Bloodline [h.s.]

twenty-two.

BRIDGET GALLAGHER
24 Hours Ago

Autumn in New York City was one of my favourite things. So, naturally, when my father mentioned that one of us was needed at our Manhattan offices for the week, I all but elbowed Peter our of the way to volunteer. The crisp October air was a refreshing contrast from the stagnant California heat. Aside from the change in weather and the fall coloured trees all over Central Park, I got to see my friends from Yale. Most of them moved to the east coast after graduation. My trips there always left me with a warming boost of serotonin.

"Am I being selfish?" I asked Jacob as he took out my backpack from the backseat.

"Bridget, you are going because your dad needed a board member at the meetings. You are literally doing him a favour." He laughed.

"What if something happens with Megan?"

"You won't even be gone for a week. Everything will be fine. Peter or your mum will call you if anything happens."

"Okay." I said, still feeling anxious.

He unloaded my bag from the trunk of his car and adjusted the straps on the backpack on my shoulders. I watched as his back muscles flexed under his button down shirt. The past few days with him left me floating. I could not remember the last time I was so genuinely happy. Part of me was worried he would shut down again in the time I was gone. It was only a few days, but it wouldn't be the first time changed his mind.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked as I took in his features.

I loved and hated how quickly he picked up on when something was on my mind. No one ever asked or cared what I felt or if I was okay before him. If I was upset, I just dealt with it myself. The way he always seemed to know made me feel understood for the first time in my entire life.

"Nothing." I murmured, trapped against the car with his arms on either side of me.

"Tell me," he insisted as if he could read my mind.

"I'm worried it won't be like this when I get back. I feel like you will get scared again." I admitted, a little embarrassed. He shook his head.

"One, I don't get scared." He said before he closed the gap between our mouths again.

Your nightmares the other night beg to differ.

The sensation of his tongue against my lower lip ceased my snarky thoughts. The prudence in me remembered we were in public and pulled away.

"Two, I'm sorry. I'm not used to this, but I won't backtrack this time. I promise, love, no more disappearing acts."

You've broken that promise before. Ignoring my own doubting conscience, I nodded and accepted his apology.

"What are you not used to?" I wondered.

"Caring." He said with his head down and his hands in his pockets.

The confession swelled in my chest. I didn't say anymore because I knew admitting that was hard enough.

"You don't have to wait until I get through the line. I'll make you late for work. I will see you in a few days. Go."