Page 249 of Time Stops With You

“Who’ll film the videos if you’re laid out sick? Who’ll sell at the food stall if you’re injured? Just because youcanbe strong doesn’t mean youshould.”

“I’m fine,” I insist.

Mom opens her mouth as if she’ll argue and then she throws her hands up. “Be stubborn. Pass out from exhaustion for all I care.” She shakes her head.

“Mom,” I call.

She looks back.

“Have you considered what I told you? About moving?”

“Nardi, we are not moving into that man’s house.”

“Why not? We’re too cramped in this apartment. And I’m tired of sharing a bed. You hog the blankets.”

Mom rolls her eyes.

I insist, “You were complaining about my tiny dresser and the shoe-box of a closet, remember? Wouldn’t it be nice to have more space?”

“I don’t care if you want to move, Nardi. That’s your right as an adult. Butnotthere. I will not watch you live as a ghost in that man’s house. Don’t bring it up again unless you’re planning to kick me out.”

Nostrils flaring, mom stalks off.

My fingers tremble and I sit at the small four-seater table, needing a moment to compose myself. I keep thinking about Cullen’s request for us to find a bigger house. He didn’t mention us living at his place either, but I don’t want to live anywhere else.

I want to be in the house he left behind. I want to run my hands through his clothes and sleep on the sheets that smell like him. I want to sit in that ratty old computer chair that a millionaire of his caliber should have thrown out long ago.

As I do in the moments when I can’t bear the silence and the pain any longer, I pull out my cell phone.

The phone rings and rings.

And then it goes to voicemail as it always does.

I wait for the beep before speaking in an upbeat tone.

“Hey, Cullen. I’m doing amazing today. This morning, I got a message from a really big social media influencer. He wants to do a collab. And a Caribbean dancehall artist liked my stew oxtail video. The results from social media are coming fast. My follower count exploded since the viral video I mentioned lasttime. I have tons of messages in my inbox from people asking me to cater their parties. Our line at the food stall is so long the cops gave us a warning.”

The phone beeps, reminding me I only have a few seconds left.

“I’m doing amazing without you. My life is absolutely perfect and I did it all on my own. I haven’t even touched the credit cards you left me. So…” I scratch my nail against a smudge in the table. “I just thought you should know. If you were wondering about me. I’m doing great. I’m being brave like you wanted me to.”

The voicemail tone beeps.

I chew on my bottom lip, my heart hanging to the ground.

Suddenly, a voice says, “Why did you lie?”

I spin to find my little brother staring at me.

“Josiah, what…” I wipe at the tears I hadn’t even realized had fallen, “do you need something?”

“I was hungry.”

“Oh. Let me warm up some rice and beans for you.”

“Nardi.” His soft tone stops me in my tracks.

I look at my brother, noticing the worry tightening his lips.

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