Page 72 of Yours to Break

“No, it’s probably nothing. Just spam,” he chirped, his cheerfulness not quite reaching his eyes. As he opened his mouth to continue talking, the ringing started up again.

“Doesn’t sound like it’s just spam. It might be something important,” I guessed.

“I’m sure they’ll leave a message if it’s important.”

“Okay, so—” Josh’s phone vibrated loudly, interrupting me.

“See! That’s probably a text from them now.” He smiled brightly and reached for his phone. As he unlocked it, his face fell.

I frowned. “Is everything alright?”

Josh continued staring at his phone screen, mumbling, “Yeah, all fine. Just spam.”

I watched as he held the power button on his phone, shutting it completely off. I tilted my head, brows furrowed. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I was the one concerned about you, and now you’re asking me if I’m alright,” he awkwardly chuckled. “I’m sorry, I think I’m going to call it a night. I’m sorry for cutting this short. Maybe we could do this again in a few days?”

“It’s okay. I promise not to ghost you again. Just uh… text or call me if you need to talk or anything.”

Josh sighed, and I saw what looked like tired acceptance behind his usually jovial self. It was gone in a flash, but I knew what I had seen. Something was bothering him, exhausting him.

Hopefully, it wasn’t anything too serious. I told myself I’d try to get whatever it was out of him next time. I strongly suspected that those calls and texts weren’t just spam.

As Hayes, Hudson, and I exited the cafe, I looked down the road and spotted my store in the distance. Well, my old store. It wasn’t mine anymore.

I didn’t feel sad, exactly. When they told me that they’d sold it, I was angry, but even then, not exactly sad. I think something inside me already accepted that it was a part of my old life and that it didn’t have a place in my new one. Maybe I should’ve been sad. I actually felt a little guilty sometimes because I wasn’t.

I’d spent years convincing myself that I was happy with my little life and my little store. I told myself over and over again that I didn’t want to go to college, even though I think I had wanted to. I told myself I loved what I did, when really, I was just so resigned to it that I never considered doing something differently with my life.

Leaving such a big piece of my life behind had honestly felt freeing. It felt like the end of a story. But not my story.

It was the end of Grammy’s.

My story was just beginning.

26

Oliver

Lisbon was all color and contrast. The tiled buildings glowed in the late afternoon sun, each one a patchwork of blue, yellow, and white. The three of us were halfway up a hill in Alfama, taking a break on the worn stone steps while Hayes tried to figure out if we’d taken a wrong turn. Hudson had his arm slung across his knee, squinting at the street signs as if they were speaking a secret language only he could decipher. During moments like these, I almost forgot that they killed people on a regular basis and enjoyed it. It was entertaining seeing them trying to do touristy things with me.

I sat between them, the backs of my shoulders just brushing theirs. It was hot in that sticky, southern way—humidity clinging to your skin, the kind of heat that made you slow down whether you wanted to or not. But I didn’t mind too much. It was definitely a different climate than what we were used to.

“Are you doing okay?” Hudson asked quietly, his voice low enough to stay between the three of us. I nodded, and he didn’t push; he just gave my knee a brief squeeze before going back to his map-wrangling.

Hayes pulled a bottle of water from his bag and handed it to me without a word. It wasn’t a big gesture, but it stuck with me. They were always like that—always noticing. If I got quiet for too long or started drifting in my own head, one of them would reach out. A gentle touch on the arm, a joke to make me smile, a yummy snack pressed into my hand. Thankfully, they didn’t make a show of it.

It was just how they were with me now, especially ever since that night I’d run away. It’d been around two and a half months since then, but I could tell the threat of me leaving still bothered them.

The three of us sat there for a while, not saying much, just watching the trams rattle by below and the rooftops shimmer in the sun. Eventually, Hayes stood and offered me his hand. I took it without thinking, letting him pull me to my feet. Hudson grinned and led the way, promising me pastries and alcohol before sunset.

I followed them up the hill, the air thick with the smell of orange blossoms. At the top, I closed my eyes for a moment and listened—to the music, to the river, to the steady breathing of the people who mattered most to me. There was nothing dramatic about it, nothing remarkable, just a beautiful moment held still in time.

It was everything.

We didn’t leave the overlook right away. The breeze had picked up, tugging softly at the edge of my shirt.

Hudson sat up after a while, ruffling his somewhat sweaty hair and stretching his arms overhead. “Hard to believe we’re going to be wearing suits next month,” he said. “I still can’t believe Grey’s getting fucking married.”

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