Page 41 of Shattered

“Look,” I start, straightening my shoulders. “It took a lot for me to come and see you.”

One of his brows hikes up. “And yet you don’t even know why you came. How did you even know where I lived?”

My mouth opens and closes before answering. “I got your address from your mom.”

His face twists in thought at my answer, but thankfully, he doesn’t ask me to clarify anything. I don’t want to admit the real way I obtained his address.

My eyes flicker to the fish tank, using it as a focus point while I gather my thoughts. This is even harder than I thought it would be, and I’m starting to feel like maybe I should have had some liquid courage before coming to see him. I could really go for something right now, especially with how my mouth keeps drying up in his presence.

“Do you have anything to drink? Maybe we could sit and talk?”

His eyes narrow, as if studying the expression on my face before he steps past me and out of the room again without another word. I’m not sure if that’s a yes or a no, or whether I was supposed to follow him, but I wait this time.

Several seconds pass, but I don’t hear anything. I try to crane my head to see through the doorway, but I can’t see anything except a dining table with four chairs. When another thirty seconds pass without a sound, I decide to go through the door and find him standing with his hands braced against the kitchen counter, looking down in deep thought.

Immediately sensing my presence, he looks up, quickly schooling his features so I can’t see what might have been there. Then he pushes off the counter and picks up two glasses in front of him.

Walking toward me, he says, “This is Coke. I don’t drink alcohol.” He hands one over before walking to a glass sliding door. “There are a couple of chairs out here.”

I look down at the glass in my hand, remembering how he never used to like alcohol. Well, that’s one thing that’s still the same.

Conflicting feelings swish about through my insides while I count to five in my head, and then I follow through the glass door he exited. I glance around at the dark yard, then my eyes land on him sitting in one of the two deck chairs beside a little round table, the only light coming from the window behind him.

With a quiet exhale, I sit in the empty chair, placing my glass next to me on the table. He hasn’t asked me to leave, so I cling to that, hoping we can make something of this little reunion, and maybe I can sort through some of these unresolved feelings.

I’m still not sure what exactly I want from this, but the lack of talking is starting to make me antsy. So many unspoken words should be filling the silence instead of the city noise.

My head tips back against the chair, and I look up at the dark sky, breathing in the evening air and releasing it slowly. “It’s nice out here.”

A hum of agreement is the only response I get from Neilix.

I roll my head to the side to watch him. I still can’t believe I’m here at his house, sitting with him after not seeing him for four years. He turns and our eyes connect, but he doesn’t give me one of his shy smiles like he would have in the past. He’s not the same friendly guy I used to know—I could see that when he first opened the door.

His eyes flicker away again, but I stay looking at his side profile. There is an air about him that is closed off and unapproachable now.

So why does that give me the urge to want to try to reach him?

“So, what’s been happening with you these past few years?”

“Nope,” he replies, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t do this.”

I can feel my defenses inching their way up—right alongside his, it would seem.

“Do what? Talk?”

Eyes lit with anger, he turns to me. “This. You, coming here and asking what I’ve been up to, as if we’re old friends just catching up.”

“We are old friends. I’m just trying to get to know you again. What would you rather talk about?”

“Fuck. I don’t know. Usually, when you tell people you don’t want to see them again, you don’t want to talk to them, either.”

“And like I said, you hurt me.” I throw my hands up and slap them back down in my lap. “I’m trying here, Neilix.”

“Well, no one asked you to!”

I can feel the heat rising from my chest along with the familiar sting at the back of my eyes, and I jerk my gaze away from him to stare into the darkness.

After pulling his glasses off, Neilix stabs his fingers into his eye sockets and blows out a sigh. “I’m sorry,” he says after a moment. “I just . . . I don’t know what to say.”

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