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Dr. Tyrell Kelly
I’m going to be back tomorrow. Would it be okay to come into work?
What? I didn’t think the gala was until the end of the week.
The team doesn’t need me anymore, so I thought I’d come home.
Is everything okay?
My eyes water.No.
I’m just homesick, you know?
I understand that. Yeah, you can come back tomorrow. I’ll let the temp know.
Thank you.
Next, I open my text thread with Gemma.
Gemma
Gemma, I hate to do this, but I’m going back to Kansas today.
Jasmine was right when she said something happened. Al raped me after the fundraiser and I just… I can’t be here.
I hope you understand and won’t be mad at me.
Please let the others know how sorry I am to leave before the gala.
Dropping my phone on the bed, I look up and find Dru watching me.
“Everything is done. I just need to finish packing.”
She holds up the sapphire necklace Jafar gave me for the fundraiser.
“Where did this come from? Was it fromhim?”
“Dru, that’s mine. Give it back, please.”
“I know you can’t afford something like this, so it’s either from him or Jasmine. Either way I’ll be keeping it. Consider it payment for keeping silent.”
She raises an eyebrow, as if she expects me to challenge her. But I just don’t have it in me to give a shit over a piece of jewelry. Jafar doesn’t care about me, therefore that necklace doesn’t mean anything to me. Without saying a word, I turn from her and finish packing. It’s difficult maneuvering three bags as I walk out of the room. I don’t even wait to see if Dru follows.
I remain blessedly numb as I make my way down to the lobby to check out. The lady at the front desk says the staff looks forward to my next visit, but there won’t be a next time. I’m never coming back to this city ever again.
Outside, my car is waiting to take me to the airport. It starts to rain as we leave, which means the ride to the airport is going to take twice as long. I stare out the window, trying not to think about anything. There’s a part of me that knows I’m avoiding the inevitable. Deep and dark emotions swirl just beneath the surface. Soon those emotions will need to escape, or they will fester. But I can’t deal with that. Not now. Maybe not ever.
At the airport, it takes forever for them to find my reservation. I’m told there was a mistake and that the only seat left is a middle seat. Middle seats are the worst for someone my size, but I take it. What choice do I have? I make my way through airport security without feeling a thing. I’m hollow as I board the plane hours later after a significant delay. There is no joy when the plane lands and I step foot in Kansas. No anger when I’m told my luggage has been lost. No irritation when I can’t find a cab and have to wait thirty minutes for one. I don’t even feel sorrow when I see that someone has vandalized my yellow door, spray-painting obscene words on it. I simply unlock the door and walk into my house.
And then I break.
* * *
He’s Angry—because I ran from him
I fled the city, hellbent on starting over without Malik Jafar in my life.
I should have known it wouldn’t be easy.
