Submerging myself completely, I hold my breath until my lungs burn.

How am I going to face Grayson now?

* * *

A week later, I pause as I step into the kitchen to get a bite to eat. Mom is wiping down the already-pristine kitchen counter. Her blonde hair is up in a tight chignon, and her knee-length skirt and suit jacket are free of creases. She knows I’m here but doesn’t acknowledge me as I step deeper into the room, wondering what I ever did to deserve her cold shoulder. Why she hates me so much that she won’t even look at me.

“Mom?” I slide the chair out at the island. She continues wiping.

Tears bead in my eyes the longer she ignores me. “Mom?” I try again, but she puts the cloth down on the drying rack and shuts the cupboard to her right before walking out without another word.

The front door slams shut shortly after.

I release a shaky breath, and the tears blurring my vision spill over, trailing down my cheeks. I quickly wipe them off with my sleeve, then dig in my jeans pocket for my phone.

Me: Message me when you arrive home so I know you’re safe.

My fingers move over the screen before I swipe away more tears from my cheeks.

Me: I miss you. I miss you so fucking much.

An automatic message pops up, notifying me that the message failed to send. My lip begins to tremble, and my eyes burn as I continue staring at the screen. She truly is gone. I know she is, but a small part of me still can’t accept it. How long will grief have a tight hold on me? When will I stop listening for her laughter and expecting my phone to buzz with an incoming text?

She’s never going to reply to my latest message.

Pocketing my phone, I jump off the chair and leave the kitchen, walking toward the front door. I need fresh air. I need to get out of this silent house.

The late afternoon sun is nowhere to be seen. Instead, it’s a cold, gray winter’s day. The thin layer of snow on the sidewalk, which began to melt after lunchtime, is now icing over. I’m on my porch, rubbing my hands together and blowing on them to keep warm, when a taxi pulls up outside of Grayson’s house. With my heart in my throat, I watch him exit with a beautiful woman in tow. I can’t take my eyes off her long, amber hair, flushed cheeks, and green wrap coat as he smiles at her while unlocking the front door.

They disappear inside his house, and I stand there for a long moment, unaware of the cold that seeps through my thin clothes. My fingers begin to tingle and I soon lose feeling in my toes. I’m torn from my stasis when a car speeds by, and a guy sticks his head out, letting out a wolf howl.