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“I can make you a tea if you want.”
When the bite crawled up my throat, clenched teeth kept it at bay. The offer made me want to snap out the truth, that all I reallywantedwas for my ex-friend to leave my house, but looking up at him made even that impossible. We were still friends, weren’t we? At the coffee shop, Tristan had apologized for overstepping boundaries at the office party, had promised me that he never intended for me to feel the way I did. One tea wasn’t going to change anything, but I had a hope it might make my work week a little easier. It would be nice to not have to spend every lunch hiding from him.
Onetea. And then it’d be over.
“Tea would be nice.”
His entire body shivered in response. A nod and Tristan was rushing to the other side of the kitchen, filling my kettle and making sure things werejust rightbefore returning to the flowers he’d left in my sink. At one time, I thought it was admirable that Tristan took making tea as seriously as I did. It would take another two months before I realized that it wasn’t the art of tea making that he’d so diligently watched over. Everything about Tristan was a transaction, and this was just another give and take.
“We were all worried about you.” My eyes batted open, and Tristan turned back to the flowers. “What happened?”
The lie always came with a lump in my chest. The story always started with the clearing of my throat. “Just an accident, I think. I was so exhausted from that Peterman case I must have just dozed off at the wheel.” A pause came with the silence, and a knotted stomach forced the next line out with a nervous laugh. “Really, I don’t remember anything. The whole two weeks are kind of blur. I just remember being downtown and flagging that officer to the side of the road.” When Tristan remained still, when he didn’t give me the same concerned look everyone else in the world gave me, I tried to focus on the kettle. If I looked at him now, I worried I’d break apart. “It’s a good thing Officer Ryles was there. I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if he wasn’t.”
“You don’t rememberanything?”
“No.”
“Someone must have—”
“Like I said, it’s really just a blur.” The snap started to pull his head over his shoulder. The lie was too easy to see through, and a boy like Tristan didn’t have the same strangled politeness the girls at the office had. “You know, it’s really getting kind of late.”
“Do they think there was someone else?” Our eyes locked when his attention finally drifted over his shoulder. “At the accident, I mean.”
My stomach knotted.
“How do you know they were looking for someone else?”
His lips twisted into a grin, and Tristan turned forward again. “Officer Ryles came to see me when you vanished,” he chuckled. “I must have been one of your last numbers called or something.”
“Oh.” The small sound relaxed him, but the knot wouldn’t loosen. “Sorry, Tristan. I’m just a little—”
When the man turned, my entire world ground to a halt. Seated in my kitchen, I was finally able to notice the one thing my eyes had refused to look at under dim porch lights. Tristan had finally arranged the bouquet— the same bouquet that had been delivered to my house, to my work, to my mother. I wouldn’t look away from them this time, and nothing would stop the panic that rose in my throat.
‘You hate roses.’
‘You said you saw someone.’
‘Birdie, someone’s out there. I’m not crazy.’
“You’re just what?”
My eyes were stuck, but when another painful knot twisted my insides, I forced my attention up. A whisper of intuition told me not to look at him. If we locked eyes, somehow Tristan would know the memories that filled my lungs. He’d know that I remembered him as clear as day, that Omar’s thrown doubt wouldn’t cast a shadow. He’d know that I remembered his voice on the night of the accident, that I felt his disgusting hands all over my body just like I did on that missing night in December. My attention turned to my unkempt fingernails, to the hem of my skirt, to the lonely mug across the kitchen.
“A little jumpy.” The sound of my dry chuckle loaned me enough courage to force a smile. “You know, maybe I’ll take a rain check on the tea,” I hummed. “This week just has me kind of wiped out.”
“A tea will help you sleep.”
I was certain he saw it— the panic that forced my teeth into my bottom lip. Still, my smile stayed the same.
Get him out of the house.
Get to safety and call a friend.
Call Michael.
“I don’t want one,” I stated. “It’s getting really late, Tristan.”
“I don’t mind,” Tristan brushed. “You know, you really shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
This time, nothing would dull the ache in my muscles. When Tristan looked at me, it was impossible to avoid those dark eyes. I would never forget the hands that groped at me, that tugged me into the grass. I’d forever know the betrayal that filled the man that night was the same that filled him now. As Tristan finished making my tea, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be alone tonight.
I had a feeling I’d never be alone again.
