Page 109 of The Misfit

“She makes everything quiet,” I whisper, admitting it finally. “When I’m with her, counting tiles or measuring spaces or just … existing in her careful world … Everything makes sense. The noise in my head stops.”

“Then you keep her. You do whatever it takes, and I meananything,to keep her beside you.” Drew’s tone is iron, steel-threaded, and I look over. His eyes are on the road, his jaw set tight. He did whatever was necessary to keep Bel. Sebastian did everything in his power to keep Ely, even fucking married her.How is what I did to make her mine any different?

It doesn’t allay the guilt in my gut, but it hardens my resolve.

“You can take me back to The Mill,” I say, staring out the window again.

“Are we done with this little heart-to-heart?” Drew asks, his tone lighter again.

“This wasn’t a heart-to-heart, dude. It was you being a bully and me being drunk. It means nothing.”

He makes ahmmnoise in his throat and heads back to the house. Bel calls as we pull in, so it’s easy to climb out of the car and wave him off; he’s already distracted.

He has Bel. Sebastian has Ely and the baby. It’s just Aries and me, and even Aries is off doing his own thing. None of them need me anymore.

I take another swig of the Jack.None of them need me. Did they ever even want me to begin with? If I’m not partying or joking or fucking?

I slump to the top steps of the house and lean back, the sun streaming down on my face. A cold sweat breaks out over my skin as my thoughts wander deeper, darker.None of them need me anyway.If I were gone … my mother would leave Salem alone. And my friends would ensure she stayed safe; I know that, even if they think I’m a spoiled dick.

I scoot up to be able to lie across the top step. It would be too easy. A few pills, drift off to sleep, and never have to experience pain again. Even as I think about doing it, my insides clench up. No more pain. No more doubt. No more self-pity and wallowing. No more masks.

But also no more Salem. That stops all the swirling thoughts. My phone vibrates, and I fish it out of my pocket. Probably Sebastian, threatening to rip off my balls or give me another lecture about how immature I am. But as I focus my attention on reading the screen, everything stops. The world goes still, well, except this roil in my stomach. I click the message and read the words. It’s simple, but it might just be … hope?

Salem:Meet me for coffee tomorrow. I don’t like not following through on promises. But to move forward, we need to talk.

Whatever it takes.

Drew’s voice is in my head, and I smile for the first time in days.

Then I roll over and puke my guts out.

TWENTY-SIX

lee

The morning crowdat The Daily Grindhasn’t thinned yet, but I spot Salem immediately. She’s not in our usual corner—the one with perfect sight lines to all exits, the one I always clean three times before she arrives. Sadness fills the empty space in my chest. Today, she sits near the window, back to the door, like she doesn’t care who might approach her from behind.

Like she doesn’t need me watching her blind spots anymore.

She’s wearing the latex gloves again, not the silk ones I bought her. That hurts. It hits harder than expected. A deliberate step backward. A calculated return to barriers between her and the world.

Between us.

I check my reflection in the window—sober, showered, wearing the sweater she once said brought out the color of my eyes. I maneuver the garment bag I bought for her, just in case.

I’m ready to finally tell her everything.To lay my soul bare to her.Here goes nothing. She doesn’t look up as I approach or even acknowledge me until I clear my throat to draw her attention.

“Lee.” Her voice is perfectly polite, perfectly distant. The kind of polite that feels more like a punishment than a greeting.

“You changed tables.” The words come out accusatory despite my best intentions.

“This one has better lighting for studying.” She still won’t look at me, focused on arranging her books with precise movements. Not the careful patterns I’ve grown used to, just … efficiency. Distance. Walls.

“Salem—”

“Thanks for meeting me.” She finally looks up at me, and my muscles tense, the sudden fear of losing her grabbing onto me. Her brown eyes are blank, lacking the usual warmth and affection I’ve come to know.

Where is my Salem?A heartbeat passes, then another. “Please sit. We need to talk.”

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