Chapter 1: She Leaves
With the sole exception of August, she had never really had any friends. Never let anybody in, never had to push anybody away. Nobody ever fucking tried either. Who would want to? There was Neal, and being with Neal was a mistake, of course. They were together, sure, but love him? No. He was convenient. He made a shitty situation better, but it was still shitty. Then he (and maybe she) made it even shittier and she went to jail, which maybe should have been more shocking than it was. It felt more like an inevitability if she was being honest. The kid was a surprise but never part of the plan. Couldn't be a part of the plan. Her a mom? Hahah NO. So she gave the kid away, never even saw him. Just pushed, pushed, pushed, then poof; she was alone again.
She didn't necessarily like being alone but she hated people more. It felt uncomfortable and awkward, and just terrible. Having to smile and laugh and give a shit about these people who clearly wouldn't, didn't give a shit about her. It was easier to be alone, yes but it also was better, much better too. Her life wasn't great, but it was fine, just fine, and that felt great after so much.
Then this guy shows up, flirts shamelessly and constantly. Saves her in a few (okay more than a few) situations and smiles at her afterwards, like they're some goddamn team of conspirators. But he doesn't mean it, she knows that. She's just a challenge and he will get bored and moved on. They do that, men like him who are beautiful and move well in the world. So no, she doesn't open up to him, and tell him personal things like feelings and shit. She doesn't accept his invitations to dinner, the bar, karaoke, even the damn roller rink that one time, because what was the point? He would leave and she would ache for the almost something they might have had. So she leaves. She had been meaning to anyway. She needed a fresh start where no one knew her name and she needed to clear her mind and her life of a guy who wasn't going to happen.
She was there 3 months when he showed up at her work. She hadn't exactly hidden her move or her forwarding address but she also had a lifetime of experience telling her no one would try. Not parents, not friends, no one. After all, this wasn't her first move, her first new city. But there he was, walking up the sidewalk with that determined set to his face, his walk, and she panicked. She saw him coming and she panicked. She grabbed her coat and keys and ran for the fire stairs. She always knew the exits.
She called the secretary and told her she was sick. And she was. Her stomach twisted and her mind felt dizzy, foggy. She needed air and she needed grass and leaves to keep her tethered to the earth. She went to the park and her favorite bench. It was wet from the autumn weather but she barely noticed and barely cared. She sat, freezing, clutching her hands hoping that this feeling of dread and cold would leave soon.
She hoped he was here by mistake. She hoped he was looking for her and she hoped that he wasn't. A confrontation scene would be messy and a near miss would hurt like hell and she was poised so perfectly, precariously on the edge of her feelings about his reappearance that sitting here on this bench, freezing, slowly soaking her pant legs, was the only thing that made sense in the moment. She knew she should get up, walk home, change clothes and feed herself. She needed to keep moving, keep living, keep pretending everything was fine and go on. But what if she didn't? What if she stayed glued to this bench for eternity and just became another fixture in the park? She doubted the other park patrons would mind and she could finally befriend all these pigeons. She could just stay here.
She sighed and blinked, looking around. He was right there, on the other side of the path, watching her. And waiting, for something from her probably.
She closed her eyes and hoped it was a dream, a trick. If he was here, searching for her then he probably had something to say. Something that had to be said face to face so that the meaning couldn't be lost in the realm of text messages or voice mails. If he was here he probably wanted to see her and talk to her. He was probably choosing to see her, even though she had closed herself off and moved away. If he was here, she probably couldn't run away again. If he was here, she really didn't want to.
She opened her eyes. He was there, he hadn't moved either but he was smiling. It was small and tentative but it matched his eyes in a sign of genuinity that even she couldn't misunderstand.
She took a deep breath. "Killian, hi."