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I quickly messaged my potential playmate, urging him to meet me at Central Park by the bridge before I could reconsider. I stormed out of the party, too furious with Dominik to bother seeking him out for a farewell. Now, here I am, wandering through the dark, eerie park in the dead of night. Normally bustling with life, tonight it’s deserted. Perhaps it’s the lateness of the hour, the chill of mid-January, or simply a quiet Saturday night.
This has to be one of the top five worst ideas I’ve ever had. Might even make it to the top three by the end of the night, only time will tell.
The air is silent, the opposite of my anxious heart. I clutch my coat tighter as a chill runs through me. My hurried footsteps are muted by the soft blanket of fresh snow, and the city’s distant hum reminds me that I’m not too far from safety. But far enough. Central Park has transformed into a haunting bubble as the outside world continues to slip further away from me.
As I lay my eyes upon the bridge, my heart starts doing somersaults. I scan the surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of any signs of life, perhaps a figure or a man waiting patiently. However, all that greets my gaze are mere shadows. Doubt creeps in—am I losing my sanity? Should I reconsider and head back home?
What home?
I don’t have a home.
Aaron’s? Occupied by my neglectful parents.
Dom’s? I bet he’s changed his locks by now and has my things outside his door. Even though he said some possessive shit earlier, I’m going to chalk that up to him wanting to look like he’s in charge in front of his buddies.
Tough shit, Lewis. I’m not scared of you. Life has thrown way worse at me, so give me your best shot.
Walking up and down the bridge for what feels like an eternity, I halt, leaning my back against the cold stone and gazing up at the night sky.
Everything is so still. So incredibly quiet. Just me and the vast nothingness.
Sometimes, I wonder what it would feel like to float up above. To find another universe with an alternate life. I always think about what it would be like to be someone else. To slip into another body and write a different ending. Would I be happier if I could start over? To be someone else for a day? Or will my past always weigh me down, reminding me who I really am? That I am unwanted and unlovable.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop grieving over the person I could have been. The woman I would have turned out to be had I been given a different start. Most just learn to live with it, but I’m not sure I’ve really done that either. I’ve just avoided it and tried to do things to forget. But my past continues to pull me back like a magnet. Unescapable. Unavoidable.
The buzzing of my phone in my pocket pulls me back to the present.
“Fucking Christ,” I mutter, seeing Dom’s name written across the screen.
Dom
Where are you?
Leaving you on read, that’s where I am.
Tucking my phone away, I do another sweep to see if anyone has arrived. He’s almost an hour late.
I’m definitely being stood up.
My phone buzzes again. It’s Dom, and he’s calling me this time. I hit decline, not remotely in the mood to talk to him. Instead, I tap the Rabbit Hole app and begin typing.
flutteringaway — 11:03 p.m.
Guess you’re not coming. You could have told me you were bailing an hour ago. Your loss.
A new message from Dom pops up instantly.
Dom
I’m not playing games here, Zoe. Answer your fucking phone before I come get you.
Me
I’m on my way back. Calm your tits.
Dom
You’re in so much fucking trouble.
