Chapter 28: Uncertain

ELOWEN BENETT

I was in the shower when the thought hit me again.

Not suddenly, nothing about it was sudden anymore. It was always there, lingering at the back of my mind like a shadow that refused to leave. The sound of water rushing over me should have been calming, but instead it only made everything louder. My thoughts. My memories.

Him.

I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the warm water run down my face, trying to focus on something—anything—else.

Today mattered.

Not because of school. Not because of Alaric. Not even because of the awkward, unfinished apology that still sat heavy on my chest.

Today mattered because my mom was going on a date.

The idea felt strange, unfamiliar, like trying on clothes that didn’t quite fit yet. It had been so long since she had even considered something like that. For years, it had just been the two of us, navigating life carefully, quietly, like stepping around broken glass.

And now… this.

I reached for the soap, my movements slow, thoughtful.

I hoped he was nice.

Not perfect. Not extraordinary. Just… kind. Gentle. The kind of man who didn’t raise his voice over nothing. The kind who didn’t make you feel small just for existing. The kind who didn’t turn a home into something you feared.

My chest tightened slightly.

I still couldn’t afford to live in those memories.

Not today.

Not ever, if I could help it.

So I pushed them away the way I always did—firmly, quickly, like shutting a door before something ugly could slip through. I focused on the present. On the steady rhythm of the water. On the simple act of breathing.

When I finally stepped out of the shower, the air felt cooler against my skin, grounding me. I wrapped a towel around myself and moved to my room, opening my closet and picking out something clean and comfortable. Soft fabrics. Neutral colors. Safe choices.

Something about routine made everything easier.

I changed quickly, brushing out my hair and tying it back loosely. My reflection stared back at me from the mirror—tired, maybe, but steady.

That was enough.

I had just sat down on the edge of my bed when my phone buzzed.

The sound was sharp in the quiet room, instantly pulling my attention toward it.

My heart jumped.

For a split second—just one—I let myself hope.

Alaric.

I grabbed my phone quickly, a small, stupid spark of anticipation lighting up inside me before I could stop it.

But the universe had a way of reminding me not to expect too much.

It wasn’t him.

Of course it wasn’t.

The screen displayed a reminder notification.

Dax’s birthday.

The name alone made something in my chest twist.

My grip tightened slightly around the phone, my jaw clenching as a wave of irritation—and something deeper, something more complicated—washed over me.

Dax.

I hadn’t thought about him all day. Not consciously, at least. But now his name was right there, impossible to ignore.

I almost threw my phone across the room.

Seriously.

The urge was sudden and strong, my arm tensing as the thought crossed my mind. If I let go, it would slam into the wall, maybe shatter, maybe take a small piece of this frustration with it.

But I didn’t, I just exhaled slowly instead, forcing my fingers to loosen Because breaking things didn’t fix anything.

It never had, Still, the thoughts came anyway.

He was probably celebrating right now, No... definitely celebrating.

And he wasn’t alone, with liora .

Of course it would be her.

Abitter taste settled in my mouth at the image that formed in my mind, him smiling, laughing, maybe doing all the things he used to do with me. Like nothing had changed. Like I had never mattered in the first place.

I hated that I could picture it so clearly, I hated that it still affected me.

Another buzz interrupted the spiral before it could sink too deep.

I blinked, glancing back down at my phone.

Probably just another random notification.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

But when I unlocked the screen, a different name appeared.

Andrew.

I hesitated for a second.

Then I opened the message.

You survived English today. I’m impressed.

A small breath of laughter escaped me before I could stop it.

Trust Andrew to show up at exactly the right moment—unannounced, unexpected, and somehow… helpful.

I typed back before I could overthink it.

Barely. You got us kicked out, remember?

The reply came almost instantly.

Wow. Blaming me already? I thought we were a team.

I shook my head slightly, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

You talk too much.

And yet you keep listening. Interesting.

I rolled my eyes, but the heaviness from earlier had eased, if only a little.

What do you want, Andrew?

There was a short pause this time before his next message appeared.

Just checking on you.

I stared at the screen for a moment longer than necessary.

Something about that felt… genuine.

Not teasing. Not sarcastic.

Just simple.

Just real.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard.

I’m fine, I typed.

Then, after a second, I added:

Why wouldn’t I be?

Another pause.

Then—

You seemed off today.

I swallowed lightly.

Of course he noticed.

Andrew noticed everything, even when he pretended not to.

I leaned back slightly on my bed, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at my phone.

Just tired, I replied.

It wasn’t a lie.

Just not the whole truth.

Hmm, he sent back. I don’t believe you.

I let out a quiet breath, shaking my head.

You don’t have to.

Good. Because I don’t.

A small smile returned despite myself.

Then another message came through.

Anyway, if you suddenly decide you don’t want to think about whatever you’re thinking about… I’m available for distraction services.

Free of charge.

I huffed out a soft laugh.

Wow. How generous.

I know. Try not to get used to it.

For a moment, I just stared at the screen, the corners of my lips still slightly lifted.

The tension in my chest had loosened, replaced by something lighter. Not gone but manageable.

And maybe that was enough for now.

I glanced at the earlier notification again—Dax’s name still sitting there like a stain I couldn’t quite erase.

But it didn’t feel as sharp anymore.

Not with Andrew’s messages pulling my attention somewhere else.

Not with the quiet reminder that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as alone in my thoughts as I felt.

My phone buzzed again.

So? Andrew texted. Am I distracting you yet?

I exhaled softly, my fingers already moving to reply.

Maybe the universe didn’t hate me.

Maybe it was just… complicated.