Page 183 of Glitched Play

Coward.

The word slips into my head before I can stop it. He couldn't even tell me himself.

Just three weeks ago...

No.

I shove the thought away.

Don't think about Arizona.

Don't think about stars.

Don't think about him whispering that he loved me.

Because if I do, I won't be able to leave.

Packing is ugly.

Nothing is folded.

Nothing is organized.

Sweaters disappear into reusable grocery bags.

Shoes land in laundry baskets.

My makeup goes into a backpack beside phone chargers and granola bars.

Every drawer I empty makes the penthouse feel less like ours and more like his. Why did I think I belonged here?

I slump onto my bed, not Witt’s guest bed. The bed I haven’t slept in for almost three weeks and text my mom.

I need to talk. Are you busy?

My phone immediately sounds with her ringtone. I snatch my phone up, pacing around the room.

“Mom…”

“What’s wrong?”

The second I hear her voice, my own breaks.

"Oh, sweetheart."

I slide down the bedroom wall until I'm sitting on the floor surrounded by half-packed bags.

"I don't understand," I say with a lump in my throat.

"What happened?"

"Dara..." I wipe at my face. "She found me an apartment."

A pause.

"And?"

"Witt never told her to stop."