Chapter 24 A slower life

Chapter 24 A slower life
Alex stayed outside far longer than any reasonable person would.

Every few minutes, I cracked the door open just enough to tell him—again—to go home. To give her space. To respect her boundaries.

He didn’t budge.

He stood there with that same tense, restless energy, pacing, running his hands through his hair, muttering to himself. Not angry. Not pleading. Something in between. Something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Inside, Sarah kept glancing toward the door, guilt and fear twisting together on her face.

“Maybe I should just talk to him,” she whispered eventually.

“Sarah, no,” I said immediately. “He’s not listening. He’s not respecting your space.”

“I know,” she said softly. “But he’s been out there for so long. I feel bad.” she was already standing.

I followed her to the door, heart pounding. She opened it, and Alex stepped inside without even looking at me—like I was invisible, like I was just an obstacle between him and what he wanted.

“Let’s talk,” Sarah said quietly.

He nodded once, jaw tight, and followed her into her room. The door closed behind them with a soft click that felt far too loud.

I stood in the hallway, staring at the closed door, every instinct in me on edge.

I went back to the kitchen, but I couldn’t focus on the food anymore. I kept glancing toward her room, listening for raised voices, footsteps, anything.

I changed into something comfortable and sat on the edge of my bed, letting the quiet settle around me. Sarah and Alex were still talking—murmured voices behind her closed door, too soft to make out, too tense to ignore.

But I couldn’t keep hovering outside like some anxious shadow. So I lay back on my bed and stared at the ceiling, forcing my mind toward something solid, something I could control.

I had few months left. Few months to prove myself, secure a permanent position, save money, and finally go home. Marfa wasn’t just a dream—it was my escape route. My reset button. My chance to build something that belonged to me. I repeated it like a mantra Finish residency. Get a job. Go home. Start over. And somewhere in that list, I added one more line. Forget Marco.

Forget the kiss. Forget the way my body reacted like it had been waiting for him. Forget the message that cut deeper than it should have. lose this number.

Fine.
I would.
I had to.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to believe it. To believe that I could just… walk away. That I could outrun whatever pull he had on me. That I could choose the safe path, the predictable path, the one that didn’t leave me breathless and confused.

But even as I tried to settle into sleep, a quiet truth whispered at the back of my mind: Forgetting Marco wasn’t going to be as easy as pretending he didn’t exist.

I decided to check on Sarah after getting ready for work. The moment I opened my door, I froze.I was instantly greeted by loud moans, Sarah calling Alex's name repeatedly.

Last night she was terrified, heartbroken, doubting everything. This morning… she was calling his name like none of it ever happened. I guess whatever storm they had yesterday…whatever fear, whatever tears, whatever secrets…it was clearly over now. Or at least, she’d convinced herself it was.

I grabbed my bag, took one last look at the closed door across the hall, and let out a slow breath.

I locked the apartment door behind me and stepped into the hallway, letting the cool morning air hit my face.

When I came back from work, the apartment felt strangely still. I called out for Sarah, half‑expecting her to pop out of her room or yell from the kitchen, but nothing. Her door was open, the bed neatly made, no sign of her.

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. A message from her. She said she’d gone to visit her family.

She never talked much about them—just that they were in California, that things were “complicated,” and that she didn’t go home often. So the sudden trip caught me off guard. But she said she might spend the whole week there, and I told myself she probably needed the break. After everything with Alex, maybe distance was exactly what she needed.

Still… something about it felt abrupt. Too abrupt.But I let it go. People cope in different ways.

The week passed faster than I expected. Work was relentless, the kind of busy that leaves no room for overthinking. I threw myself into it—rounds, charts, cases, late nights, early mornings. And before I knew it, another week had slipped through my fingers.

I was grateful and heartbroken Because I was so close. Just a few more weeks and my residency would be over.

The thought made my chest tighten. It was bittersweet—like standing at the edge of something I’d worked years for, only to realize how much I’d miss the chaos, the adrenaline, the people, the version of myself I’d become here.

But I’d also saved enough money to finally breathe.
To go home for a few weeks—maybe a month.
To rest.
To reset.
To figure out my next move.

Marfa was waiting for me. A slower life.A quieter life.
A life that didn’t involve black cars, cold messages, or men who made my heart race for all the wrong reasons.

But Some things…some people…don’t stay behind just because you leave the city.