Page 28 of Bitter Truths

Me

Leaving for the airport…

I grip the charm hard enough to leave an imprint on my fingertips.

“Bianca?” Mom appears in the doorway, brow furrowed. “We need to leave. Your dad’s done loading the car.”

I nod, not trusting my voice.

“You haven’t put that thing down all morning.” She steps into the room, arms crossing over her chest. “Everything alright?”

No, nothing is alright. I just found out I’m irreparably broken, and the four guys I’m in love with have fallen off the fucking planet.

“Just trying to reach the guys before we go.”

Her eyes focus on the bruising that colors my cheek. “Your brother said you took quite a tumble. Maybe it’s good to get away, clear your head.” She wanders off down the hall.

Everything feels heavy, pressing in on me until there’s no room left for air, and I sink down onto the edge of my bed. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never thought I’d be leaving for this trip with these words still trapped inside.

I make one last desperate attempt, dialing each number and letting it ring until voicemail picks up.

“Bianca! Come on!” Dad booms from downstairs.

The airport. The mountains. Weeks of isolation stretching ahead of me like a prison sentence.

Nothing changes as we leave. No alerts. No notifications. No them. Silence fills the car as we pull away from the curb, my childhood home shrinking in the rear window.

My eyes burn with hot tears. They always text back. Always. My phone sits dead in my lap.

Life moves forward while my heart stays fixed on four alphas who didn’t answer when I needed them most.

“You okay, honey?” Mom peers over her shoulder. “You’ve been so quiet.”

“Headache,” I say, the word bitter on my tongue, but it’s easier than the truth.

I press my forehead to the cool glass. The window fogs where I breathe, then clears.

Dark wood and strange shadows fill every corner. Pine and mothball scents hang heavy in the air.

Airports and shitty mountain roads made my head pound for hours. Now I’m stuck here with no cell service, no WiFi, no way to reach them… just trees everywhere and nothing but wind and creaking branches.

“Home sweet home for the next three weeks,” Mom sounds overly chipper as she hangs clothes in the tiny closet next to her bed. “Isn’t it adorable?”

Adorable? The cabin has one room, a kitchen with one cabinet, and a bathroom so small your knees hit the shower wall when you sit on the toilet. Two narrow beds crammed around a nightstand that looks ready to collapse.

There’s literally nothing here. No distractions from the mess in my head. I have three weeks to obsessively think about every possible scenario, what-if, and coulda-woulda-shoulda that I can conjure up.

“It’s great, Mom. Thanks for planning this.” The words taste like dirt.

Last night feels like a lifetime ago. I was in Weller’s arms, his heartbeat steady against my cheek. I can still feel his lips against my forehead, still smell the teakwood that clung to his shirt. The girl I was a few days ago is starkly different from the girl I am now.

The empty signal bars look like the world giving up on me.

By the time we landed, I was certain there would be a message. Then I hoped desperately I would hear from them before we drove too deep into the mountains. But no. Still nothing. Winston had no updates either.

They were so worried about me last night, then it’s like a light switched off.

This isn’t like them at all, but what do I know about their lives outside of me? College, jobs, whatever their fathers make them do...