Chapter 35 His town, his past

Chapter 35 His town, his past
Daphne stepped off the bus with a backpack that wasn’t hers and a direction she’d only pieced together through stubbornness and Finn’s sleepy voice on the phone. The town was small in the way stories were small, tight-knit, sun-washed, and full of people who knew each other’s middle names.

She stood there for a moment, lost and trying not to look it.

Finn had grumbled when she called him at dawn, but he still found the information she needed. He always did.
“St. Miriam’s Hospital,” he’d said. “Fifteen minutes from the bus stop. Don’t die.”
And then he hung up like he was offended by his own helpfulness.

Now she followed his directions, pulling her jacket closer. Each street felt like a piece of Michael she’d never been invited to touch. His childhood must’ve happened here. His memories. His bruises. His joys. All the versions of him she’d only caught glimpses of.

She kept walking.

The town opened up in front of her, brick storefronts, a bakery with a crooked sign, kids on bikes weaving around her like she wasn’t in the middle of her own silent panic. Someone on a porch waved as she passed. Not at her. Past her.

And then she saw why.

Michael was across the street and was walking, His hands were in his pockets and his eyes were focused on something ahead she couldn’t see.

And the strangest thing happened.

One after another, People greeted him. A man sweeping outside a hardware store called his name, A woman watering her plants blew him a kiss, Two teenagers ran up to bump fists with him, grinning like he was a legend returning home.

Michael nodded at each of them, muttering quiet hellos he would never use with strangers. He carried himself differently here, softer, but somehow more guarded.

Daphne froze on the sidewalk, watching him belong.

He never told her that. He never told her he had a place that cared about him. All this time, she thought the whole world had been as vicious to him as she’d been. As he’d been to her. But these people looked at him like he mattered and he never said a word.

She didn't know if she should be jealous or angry but she felt something quieter. Something softer. Something she didn’t want.

She kept her distance as he turned toward the hospital at the end of the street, a small building tucked between a pharmacy and a park. The sign was faded, the parking lot half-empty, but it felt anchored, like it had witnessed generations of the same families coming and going.

Daphne hesitated before pushing the door open. The scent of antiseptic and warm coffee hit her at the same time. A TV murmured in the waiting room. A nurse answered phones at a desk too large for the small lobby.

And there he was.

Michael stood with his back to her, shoulders hunched now instead of tight. He was talking to someone she couldn’t see, Then the girl stepped into view.

She was pretty in a simple and natural way, her dark hair was tied back, her smile was gentle and then She lifted her hand and touched Michael’s arm. Familiar. Easy. Like she’d done it a hundred time. Michael let her, He didn’t move away and He didn’t tense.

Her hand slid down to his wrist, holding him there while she whispered something Daphne couldn’t hear. Michael’s head bowed, and the girl wrapped her arms around him,He leaned into her arms like he needed it.

Daphne didn’t breathe.

She stood in the doorway, hidden behind the frame, watching something she shouldn’t see, it felt too intimate and too telling.

They broke apart eventually. But the girl stayed close. Very close. Her hand lingered on his arm again. She tipped her head toward him, saying something that made him smile.

And Daphne felt her stomach drop.

It felt like her heart was being torn, she didn't want to acknowledge the truth,not yet. She watched too long, but she couldn’t look away, she couldn’t move, she Couldn’t breathe, it felt like the truth settled.

Michael had a world here, Michael had people here and Michael had… someone here, she was the outsider. Again.

The girl brushed a stray piece of hair from her own cheek, shy and warm at the same time, and Daphne suddenly couldn’t stand it, she couldn't stand the fact that it hurt. She stepped back and walked out of the hospital.

Outside, the sun had climbed a little higher, turning the sidewalk into pale gold. Children laughed in the park across the street. A dog barked somewhere. Life went on like she wasn’t breaking in the parking lot of a small-town hospital she had no right being in.

Daphne pressed a hand to her chest.

It didn’t help.

She walked, Just… walked. Each step lighter than she expected, like her body had decided to move even if her heart hadn’t caught up.

She kept walking until the hospital was gone behind her, swallowed by trees and houses and a world she didn’t belong to.

Finn had warned her, half-asleep on the phone.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he’d mumbled.

Yes, she’d thought then.

Now… she wasn’t sure of anything.

The town blurred around her. She passed a grocery store. A row of mailboxes. Someone’s laundry flapping in the wind. Ordinary things. Things that belonged to someone else's life.

She wasn’t his emergency contact, She wasn’t anything official, She wasn’t the girl who could slide her hand into his and have him melt into her.

She was the mistake he kept walking away from. Daphne inhaled slowly, her eyes sting and her chest tightened, she made a mental note, and every step she took, the note rang in her head

“I’m done.”

She didn’t look back at the hospital, She didn’t look back at Michael, She didn’t look back at what she wished had been hers. She walked toward the bus stop, toward the road she came from, toward the next choice she’d have to make.

One thing settled hard and clear inside her.

Whatever Michael’s past was…

She wasn’t going to stand in it, waiting for him to decide if she mattered.

She was done.