Chapter 42. Waiting for My Therapist

Ava

I woke up late the next day, the house too quiet, sunlight slicing through my blinds in harsh stripes across the bed.

My body felt heavy, sore from Adrian, from everything, the ache between my legs was a reminder I couldn’t shake.

I rolled over, expecting to hear Mom’s coffee maker or Adrian’s boots on the hardwood. Nothing. Just silence, everywhere feels empty.

I dragged myself out of bed, hoodie and sweatpants pulled on to fight the morning chill.

My phone was still dead on the nightstand, and I didn’t bother charging it. Downstairs, the kitchen was spotless, no dishes, no coffee mugs, like they’d erased themselves.

On the counter, two folded notes sat side by side one in Mom’s neat cursive, the other in Adrian’s blocky scrawl. My name on both, staring up at me.

I didn’t touch them. I didn’t want their words, their apologies, their promises. My chest tightened, anger flaring hot and fast.

I grabbed both notes, crumpled the