I pulled my car into the driveway and cut the engine, staying in my seat for a little while. I didn't want to go inside, I didn't want to give up, but I didn't really have a choice. There was no way I was going to find Pete with how much time had passed since I last heard his voice.
He was gone.
I undid my seat belt and kicked the car door out, slipping out and slamming the door behind me. The sun was a bit higher in the sky, but the glowing ball of heat hadn't been out long enough to replace the bitter coldness that hung in the air with its pleasant and much desired warmth. I crossed my arms over my chest, tucking my hands in between my arms and my sides, and made my way to the front door.
I stuck my key into the keyhole, my hand trembling, and turned it, pushing the door in and stepping into the slightly warmer house. I heaved a disappointed sigh and slid out of my jacket, dismally announcing, "I'm home."
"Patrick!" Win's voice emanated from a different part of the house, followed by the sound of her footsteps pattering across the hardwood floors. Before I knew it, she was at the top of the stairwell, a smile on her face. "Oh my god, Patrick!" She ran down the stairs and practically threw herself at me, slinging her arms around my neck and burying her face into the crook of my neck. "You had us worried sick," She mumbled, her soft lips grazing my skin as she kept me close.
At the time, I neglected to acknowledge her use of the word "us" in her speech. I was too distraught. Instead, I just held onto her tightly, tears flooding my eyes and making my vision blurry. I sniffled and Win took a step back from me, looking at me worriedly. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
"I couldn't find him, Win," I admitted to her shamefully, the guilt I'd been trying to suppress making its reappearance and causing my stomach to turn. I couldn't bring myself to refer to him by his name, but I didn't need to. Who else would I have been talking about? "I looked everywhere for him, and I mean everywhere. I went to his apartment, I went to all of his favorite places. Shit, I even went to that old fucking church we all met at. But I couldn't find him anywhere and chances are he did it. He actually did it this time and I..." I began to choke up; it took me everything to not to break down in front of her, "...I couldn't save him."
She chuckle, to which I raise an eyebrow to. "What are you talking about, Patrick? Pete's fine. He's-"
"But he's not fine!" I interrupted her before she could get any of the words she wanted to out, "He's dead and it's all my fault!" I began to shed the tears I didn't want to and covered my face with my hands. "It's all my fault..."
"Nothing's your fault!" She tried to convince me, plucking my hands away and glancing up at me, "Look, Pete is fine. Okay? I called him right after you left and he told me he was fine! He-"
"No he's not!" I cut her off once again, "He called me! He told me he was going to do it! And that he meant it this time!"
Win crossed her arms and scoffed. "Well if Pete really did kill himself, then how come he's in our kitchen right now making breakfast for us?"
My eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, tears continuing to stream from my red and puffy eyes down my cheeks. "What?"
"Yeah, go look for yourself," She invited me to do, motioning behind her towards the room she claimed he was in. I stared at her apprehensively before pushing past her and rushing through the doorway separating the kitchen from the foyer. Sure enough, much to my disbelief, Pete was there, standing at the oven, cooking something on the stove with his back to me.
He glanced back over his shoulder, the corner of his lips perking up into a smirk. "About time you showed up. I was afraid Win and I would have to eat all of this ourselves."
