Page 75 of How To Not Need You

Leave.

Find my shoes. Grab my phone. Go back to my apartment before morning turns this into something bigger than it already is.

I stare into the dark.

Then I look down at Jake's hand resting over my stomach.

I cover it with mine.

He makes a tired sound behind me and pulls me closer without waking properly.

Fuck.

Harper was right.

About all of it.

I love him.

I love his daughter.

I even tolerate his asshole cat.

And tonight, for the first time, the thought of leaving feels worse than the thought of staying.

So I stay.

Chapter

Fourteen

Jake

I push through the glass doors of Page & Grounds and immediately get hit with the smell of coffee and old books. Warm light spills across the scuffed timber floors, catching the edges of bookshelves that have clearly seen better days.

Luca’s already at the espresso machine, pulling a shot before I’ve made it three steps inside.

Either he’s psychic or I’ve become a regular.

I’m not sure which one concerns me more.

I scan the room. Harper’s notebook sits open on the table, pages covered in handwriting that gets progressively messier the further you read. Freya’s already seated, wearing the practical, slightly resigned expression of someone who’s accepted that whatever happens in the next hour will involve at least three objectively terrible ideas. Wren’s near the back, her curly hair pulled into a messy bun, scratching beneath Popcorn’s beak while the bird regards me cautiously. I give the bird a wide berth. Last time he called me an idiot and I’m still not over it.

Then I see the cork-board.

It’s propped against the bookshelf, large enough to qualify as an eyesore. Red string crisscrosses the surface in a pattern that makes my brain stall momentarily. Printed photographs are splayed at odd angles, Rebecca, Seabrook locations, the man from the hug, pinned at intervals that make no sense. Sticky notes range from the reasonable (“Photo taken outside Seabrook Supermarket, 9:14 AM”) to the increasingly unhinged (“Rebecca wore blue dress. CODE FOR SOMETHING?”).

I stop walking and stare at it with mounting horror. “No.”

It comes out before I can stop it. Though it's not quiet enough obviously as it draws gazes from around the room.

Ben looks up from where he’s adjusting a length of string. The offence on his face is genuine. “You haven’t even let us explain it yet.”

“I’ve seen enough.”

Luca puffs his chest like he’s accepting an award. “We’ve made significant progress.”

“You’ve made a project board.”