Every String Attached | GirlxGirl

Chapter Twenty Four

Waking up to an empty bed, Shawn's mind believed—for a quick, and hopeful millisecond—that when she rolled over, York would be laying beside her. And then her brain caught up with her body, and she realized that she was far from home.

And all courage seemed to disappear then. Every ounce of bravery that she had built yesterday was gone. Because yesterday, she didn't have to go out and find Hunter. Yesterday, she could envision her parents, but did not have to track them down and speak to them.

Yesterday was so much easier than today.

Shawn reminded herself that she was wasting time. Ignoring her nervous stomach, she pulled on her warmest sweater and jeans, followed by her coat, scarf, mittens, hat, and winter boots. And then she realized she had absolutely no idea where she was going.

Slipping off her mittens, she searched Hunter Murphy's name on her phone. Clicking on the first Chicago address, she briefly read through the directions. She knew exactly how to get there.

If this was her Hunter Murphy, she hadn't moved far from where she lived in high school. Shawn knew the way to her old house like the back of her hand. She knew how to sneak into her bedroom and out the back door. She knew every aspect of that house, and as she passed it, on her way to the new one, she felt a surging wave of nostalgia rush through her body.

For a moment, she saw her younger self pulling herself up the tree trunk, clinging onto the window sill for dear life; all while Hunter stood behind the glass with her index finger raised to her lips.

And then the memory was gone. Because this house no longer belonged to Hunter. The two cars that sat in the driveway were not the matching pair of SUV's that Hunter's fathers used to own.

The house that Hunter Murphy lived in was nothing like Shawn would have expected. Hunter was always the kind of person who dreamed of living in a small, tight knit house with a big family. But this house was enormous.

As Shawn ascended the driveway, noting that there was a car parked, meaning someone was home, she tried to distract herself by appreciating the scenery rather than of focusing on how scared she was.

With grey bricks, the house stood at three stories tall. Each window shutter was carefully painted a dark grey, with the front door to match. And then there was the doorbell.

Shawn's finger hovered over it for what must have been ten minutes. She did not contemplate abandoning the house. She just needed to somehow find a way to ensure herself that this was okay; even if Hunter was going to see her and slam the door in her face, she would find a way to explain. And once the explanation was out, and once Shawn felt at peace, she was free. Whether Hunter truly forgave her or not.

When the doorbell finally did ring, and Shawn took a step backwards—feeling pleased but still completely shaken—there was no answer for another minute. Shawn's heart sunk. She felt as if she came all this way for nothing.

And then the door opened, revealing a rush of warm air, and a woman who was clearly not Hunter Murphy. Instead, it was a much taller, black haired woman, with visible freckles along her cheeks and a wide, friendly grin.

"Can I help you with something?" She asked.

"Yeah, I—I'm looking for someone."

The woman raised her eyebrows, willing Shawn to continue.

"Hunter Murphy."

"Oh—can I ask why?" When she saw the confusion on Shawn's face, she explained, "Hunter is my girlfriend. I've met all of her friends and colleagues—but I've never met you. May I ask your name?"