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I need to find Dominic.
I whirl around again, deciding to pick a new direction. But I’m too distracted, and my foot catches on something, stopping its motion while the rest of my body continues forward.
I trip over the front wheel of a baby stroller. And there’s enough time for me to let out a little shriek as my hands stretch out, and I catch myself on the rough gravel with my palms.
The sting of sharp rocks meeting skin is instant and causes me to lose my battle against the tears.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” A woman crouches down next to me. “I’m so sorry.” She apologizes, even though we both know I was at fault.
She grabs my arm, helping me up. “Are you alright?”
I nod, using the backs of my hands to wipe at my cheeks. “I’m okay.”
The words sound anything but, but I don’t have it in me to explain that my crying has nothing to do with falling. So I hurry away.
It only takes a few steps to notice that my knee is aching. I must’ve landed on that hard, too.
I wipe at my cheeks again and blink. But still, none of the faces around me are familiar.
My lower lip trembles with the urge to yell Dominic’s name. If I focused on taking a breath, I could probably yell it pretty loud.
But what if I yell for him and he doesn’t come?
He didn’t leave me.
Dominic is here; he didn’t leave me.
But no matter how many times I tell myself that, I can’t drop the disgusting worry that maybe he did.
I stumble a few more steps.
What if he left me?
There’s a part of my brain that knows I’m fine. A part that knows this is just a trauma response. More shit I need more therapy for.
But the other part of my brain is in charge right now. And that part is spiraling.
I suck in another jagged breath.
I can’t see the faces around me anymore. My vision is too fuzzy.
If they were people I knew, they’d say something. They’d get Dom.
But even with all these people, no one recognizes me.
What if everyone left?
I spot a break in the crowd ahead and push through it.
I keep going, not turning, until I find the edge of the market.
No one stops me.
No one calls my name.
I cut through the final flow of people and find an unoccupied bench on the outside of the last aisle. I lower myself onto it slowly because my knee is really starting to hurt. Once I’m seated, I set my purse in my lap, then—careful not to bump my injured palms—I pull the bowl I just bought out of its bag.
When I fell, I felt the bowl get smashed between my elbow and the ground, and I need to check to make sure I didn’t break it.
