Page 14 of No Mistakes
I clear my throat and open the car door, climbing inside. “I don’t care,” I say, lying through my teeth.
Mandy looks at me, giving me her ‘that’s bullshit’ look and smirks. “Oh yeah, sure you don’t.”
She pushes herself off the hood of the car and walks to her door, but the second I close mine, I feel like I’m being swallowed whole as the eyes across the parking lot stare after us.
The drive is quiet, too quiet. The hum of the engine doesn’t soothe me like it usually does. I roll the window down, letting the wind sting my face, hoping the cold will distract me from the fire in my chest.
I stare out at the city streets as we pass through them. Familiar buildings blur past, brick storefronts with faded paint, an alley I once hid in during a rainstorm, and neon signs flicker against the night sky like dying stars.
After we got our hot chocolates, I told Mandy that it was time we went home and not just the temporary home. Our home, in Boston.
Little did I know that Mandy already had our bags packed and they were in the boot waiting for the right moment.
Regret pangs in my chest at the thought of her already planning the return home after the way I spoke to her, but I can’t get rid of the anger, knowing that she lied to me. She wouldn’t have done it for no reason; she would have done it to protect me.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Mandy asks, breaking the silence.
I turn to her and shrug, “Not really. I’m just glad we’re finally going home.”
She drums her fingers against the wheel. “Me too, but… You know I’ve got your back, right?”
I take this moment to really look at her. Her jaw’s tense, like she’s holding back ten different things she wants to say.
“I know,” I whisper. And I do. Even when I’ve got nothing left, Mandy’s always been there. That’s the difference between her and Axel. One stayed. One didn’t.
We roll to a stop at a set of traffic lights, and she looks over. “You think it’s over?”
The question knocks the breath out of me. “I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “But if he thinks he can just come back and expect forgiveness…” My voice trails off. “He’s going to learn the hard way.”
Mandy smiles, slow and wicked as the lights turn green. “Nowthat’sthe Eva I know.”
I close my eyes for a second and let myself feel the weight of the day. The sound of Axel’s voice. The look in his eyes. The way my hands wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how much I told myself I was fine. And beneath all of it… the craving. The stupid, reckless, heartbreaking part of me that still wanted to run back into his arms and scream at him all at once.
I hated myself for that.
“We’re nearly there,” Mandy says softly, like she knows I’ve been holding my breath.
The car slows as we pull onto the street where our old apartment sits, tucked between a bookstore and a laundromat that always smells like warm cotton.
The building looks exactly the same, run-down bricks, ivy curling along the crack, the faint buzz of the neon sign from the corner shop next door.
“Home sweet chaos,” Mandy mutters with a half-smile. I don’t smile back. Instead, I stare at the doorway leading to the apartments. Everything we left behind is waiting upstairs inside our own sanctuary. The old photographs, the case files, and no doubt that damn pile of clothes.
Mandy grabs the bags from the boot while I walk ahead, opening the door. I look towards the lifts and giggle with excitement when I see the out-of-order sign has been removed. It’s been months since we were able to use them, and for some reason, I see it as a sign from my mother that everything will be okay.
“Thank fuck for that,” Mandy says from next to me as she pushes past to bring the lift down.
Once at our door, Mandy rushes forward. “I’m gonna shower, I feel like I’ve been dragging guilt and gunpowder for the last three days.”
I nod, pushing through the open door, stepping into the living room, letting the door close behind me. The sound is final as it clicks shut, like drawing a line between past and present.
Inside, the air smells stale and untouched. Dust motes swirl in the light shades as if we’ve disturbed their peace. Nothing’s changed. Our blankets are still on the couch, the mugs are still sitting on the edge of the sink waiting to be put away, and the stack of books I never finished reading is sitting on the coffee table.
My eyes land on a photo tucked into the mirror frame on the wall opposite. Mandy and I were at Coney Island, both of uslaughing with ice cream dripping down our hands. We were so happy that day. No lies. No blood. No secrets.
I sit down slowly, curling my knees to my chest on the couch, and for a moment, I let the quiet settle over me as I listen to the faint sound of water running from the bathroom.
A buzzing sound appears from my bag, and I lean over, pulling my phone free from the side pocket. I stare at the screen, not moving when I see his name pop up. The buzzing stops, and I turn my phone off, tossing it on the coffee table. He doesn’t get to do this. Not now. Not after everything. But deep down, I know it’s not over.
