Page 29 of Atlas Uncharted

The house was heavy with grief and the kind of quiet that felt like it could crush you if you weren’t careful. Ashlen was upstairs, deep in a medicated sleep. Atlas had been drinking since noon, after he finished work.

I could smell the whiskey on him as soon as he walked into the kitchen. I looked back, and he was strangling another bottle of beer by the neck like it was his lifeline. He was wearing the same jeans and T-shirt from yesterday. I was finishing up the dishes. I’d made dumplings—Ashlen’s favorite.

I heard him move behind me, the sound of his footsteps uneven, then he was close. Too close. I could feel his body heat on my back. And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t affecting me.

"I'm heading back to my hotel. I’ll bring my things with me tomorrow," I said, not turning to face him. Ashlen wanted me to stay an extra week, but in the house. She had to get a hysterectomy and needed me to help her more hands-on. It was the least I could do. We hadn’t gotten a chance to talk much because she was sleeping. I wondered where all her new friends from the baby shower were now.

I went to sidestep Atlas and leave the kitchen, but his hand shot out, gripping my arm. “I’m tired of you running, Kairi,” he slurred, his words thick from alcohol. “You know you didn’t justcome here for her. You came to comfort me too. I can see it in your eyes. Comfort me.”

I swallowed hard, trying to shake off his grip, but he held firm. “Atlas, you’re drunk. Let go.”

“No. Sit down and talk to me,” he demanded, his voice low, desperate. “Give me something to think about besides planning a funeral and all this shit that’s been tearing me apart. Tell me about your new book.”

I hesitated, but something in his eyes—in the way his fingers tightened on my arm—made me comply. I sat down at the table, folding my hands in my lap. He sat across from me. For the first time ever, I noticed the hair on his chin was red too. I had never thought about it because he was always clean-shaven—I’d never even seen him with stubble.

“It’s about a woman who inherits her grandmother’s brownstone,” I began. “There’s a ghost—a man who loved her grandmother. They’d been friends since childhood. Her new boyfriend, who was a contractor for her, killed him and stuffed him into the walls because he wanted her all to himself. He ended up marrying her, and she lived thinking her best friend had disappeared. Now the ghost of the friend thinks she’s her grandmother. There are so many elements of African Ameri—”

He cut me off mid-sentence, his eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you answer the door that night?” he asked, his voice sharp and accusatory.

“Why are you bringing up old shit, Atlas?” I shot back, trying to deflect, but he wasn’t having it.

He slammed his hand down on the table, the sound reverberating through the space. “Answer me, Kairi!”

“Because people would have gotten hurt!” I shouted back, my voice shaking with frustration. “Is that what you wanted?”

He stared at me, his eyes filled with a kind of anguish I hadn’t seen before. “Look at me, Kairi,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “Does it look like I’m not hurting? I can barely keep my head above water. If you had just opened the door that night...”

I shook my head, trying to keep the tears at bay.

He continued, “But you’d rather write fictional versions of us who get a happily ever after, while I’m here burying babies because you wouldn’t open the door. Because you wanted to punish me for being a scared kid who couldn’t tell the girl he fell in love with at second sight how he felt, because he was afraid his parents would disown him.”

I was in no mood to be his scapegoat. “So what, Atlas?” I shot back, my voice filled with bitterness. “You played with my emotions from day one. I had to deal with you getting mad and rubbing your relationship with Ashlen in my face. You don’t think I know you sabotaged me with every guy I liked or who tried to date me? You'd rather me be lonely than without you, but you didn't want me—not really. Not enough to say it out loud. And because I decided to be the petty one for once—to not give you more power to hurt my feelings—I’m responsible for your heartache? For all of this? Your life going to shit?”

“Yes,” he laughed, but it was a hollow sound.

“Fuck you. I came here despite all that’s happened, despite Ashlen being a shit friend. Because I’m trying my hardest to be a good person. I feel bad for what’s happening to you all, but I’m not going to be a punching bag for you to take all your grief and regrets out on,” I jabbed my finger in his direction.

He glared at me, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and sorrow. Then, in one swift motion, he threw the bottle against the kitchen wall, the glass shattering into pieces, mirroring the tension between us. Without another word, he stormed out of the room, leaving me alone in the wreckage—my heart pounding, my mind racing.

Chapter 19

Kairi

Moving into their house was stupid. After the debacle with Atlas, I said I wasn’t coming back, but then Ashlen called me, begging me to move in, claiming she was lonely. Living there was like stepping into a fog. The air was thick with grief and resentment. I kept trying to convince myself to leave, but guilt and obligation kept me there.

I carried a tray of soup upstairs, hoping to get Ashlen to eat. The sooner she got better, the sooner I could leave. But as soon as I stepped into the bedroom, I knew it was pointless to have even cooked.

Ashlen lay in bed, her eyes vacant, staring at the ceiling as though she could see something there that wasn’t visible to anyone else. I set the tray down gently, trying to keep my voice soft.

“Ashlen, I made you some soup. You need to eat something.”

She didn’t respond, didn’t even glance in my direction. The only movement was the slow rise and fall of her chest.

“I’ll leave it here for you, okay?” I tried again, but I was met with the same cold silence.

Finally, she spoke, her voice flat and lifeless. “I don’t want it.”

My patience was wearing thin. I had been trying to help, trying to be there for Ashlen despite everything, but her not trying to get better was getting under my skin. “Ashlen, you have to take care of yourself,” I said, my tone firmer now. “You can’t just give up.”

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