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Chapter 29

My misery was so acute that it hit me like a physical pain. Or maybe it was just the flu that had me surrendering to my bed. It was the beginning of winter, taking out both Miles and Dad, so I knew it was only a matter of time before it came for me too.

At least that's what I tried to tell myself after what happened this weekend.

On the Monday following, I had this lump in my throat, but I brushed it off as just feeling down about what went down between me and Carson. But when I got home and crawled into bed, I couldn't muster the energy to move. My limbs felt like heavy logs, and my face was on fire. Yet, amid the feverish haze, there was a name bouncing around in my head.

Carson, Carson, Carson.

I spent days confined to my bed, thinking about whether or not I should reach out to him. I wanted to take it all back, apologize, and go back to how things were.

After typing out message after message and erasing them all, I finally decided to send an apology.

Hey Carson, hope you're doing well! I've been wondering why you decided to leave town so suddenly. I know I made things weird between us, but I hope it wasn't the reason behind your departure. If there's anything on your mind or if you need to talk, just know that I'm here for you.

And this was the response I got.

Carson: Maybe for once something I did had nothing to do with you.

I clenched my jaw to kill the sob in my throat. And then my head swirled, with the feverish haze of a fever and doubts about our relationship. I was trying to fix things, and he'd shut me down time and time again. Was I in over my head? Did our kiss really mean nothing to him?

When I woke up in his bed that morning, I asked Claudia how she could just let him go alone like that. How she could be okay with him leaving without telling anyone.

Claudia gently reached out and placed her hand over mine, as if comforting a worried friend. "You have to understand, it was his choice."

"But I thought you never let him go anywhere alone, especially with his condition..." I trailed off, shaking my head in disbelief.

"He's staying with some friends there," she reassured me like I was the one who constantly hovered over him. "And Ilya's checking in on him. Don't you worry, honey. He has all his medication on him."

"It's not just about that," I choked out, my throat tight.

"Just give him some space." She was no longer reassuring me, just looking at me with a tight-lipped smile. "Carson needs time alone."

I wanted to scream, to ask why she hovered over him like he was a toddler if he needed space. But instead, I forced a smile, nodded, and shut my mouth.

Of course, I didn't listen. I bombarded him with texts, all of which he ignored. I even resorted to stalking Ilya's account for updates on him. Then, I made the mistake of clicking on his story, only to see him out at what seemed like a bar, with some girl draped over Carson's shoulder. That was my breaking point. The image was too blurry for me to make out her features, but it still was a punch to the gut, and I lay in bed for hours, wondering who she was.

I'd dream about him and some faceless girl kissing in a dimly lit bar, and then his face would morph into Harry's, and suddenly the faceless girl would become Genevieve. Then, I'd wake up, soaked in cold sweat.

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