35

Rai My breathing slows as I spin around. Kyle is here. He’s…back. I stare up at him, at how his hair is styled back, at how his shirt is still meticulously tucked into his pants like when he left earlier. There’s no visible injury on his body, no bruising or even dirt. He appears as impeccable as always. He’s back. Those words spread through my body like wildfire, violent and potent. It’s not like seven years ago when the impersonal messages were the last thing I heard from him. His brow furrows as he glides his thumb under my eye, wiping away moisture. “Hey…what’s wrong?” Despite my need to stop the tears, the weakness, I have no power to do so. They’re trapped in my lids, like a reminder of that day—the day I stood all alone in this room, when he never showed up. He never snuck up on me from behind and asked if I missed him. “You left,” I murmur. “You knew I did.” He keeps on wiping my tears as if, like me, he doesn’t like the meaning behind them or the fact that I can’t find the wil