The house swallows me whole as I step inside.
The space is too big, too quiet, just like always. The walls echo with the absence of the people who should be here. My parents I mean , my adoptive parents, have left again.
This time, their excuse was something ridiculous, something about "chasing off a ghost."
Maybe I should be used to it by now, the way they come and go like the changing seasons, but it still stings.
They didn't even try to make it sound convincing. They just disappeared, as always, leaving me behind with Mrs. May, as if I were still some helpless twelve-year-old who needed babysitting.
I let out a slow breath, slipping off my shoes and dropping my bag near the stairs.
The house still smells like lavender and the faint trace of my mother's perfume, not my mother, I correct myself. My adoptive mother. Even after all these years, I can't bring myself to call her that without it tasting strange in my mouth.
Valentine's Day is in a week. And Dan has decided to act like I don't exist.
The thought claws at my mind as I make my way to the kitchen, each step feeling heavier than the last. I yank open the fridge, more out of habit than hunger.
The cold air rushes out, chilling my skin, but my mind is elsewhere. My fingers tighten around the handle as I stare blankly at the neatly packed containers inside.
"And why is he looking at me? And smiling? Then looking away?"
I say the words out loud before I even realize it, frustration lacing my voice.
The memory of Dan's lingering glances at school today loops in my head like a song I can't turn off. It doesn't make sense. If he's ignoring me, why does he still look at me that way? Like he's waiting for something?
I grab the container of rice and turkey Mrs. May must have prepared for me earlier.
My stomach twists at the sight of it. I know I should eat, but my appetite has been nonexistent for weeks.
"Helen, is that you?"
Mrs. May's voice breaks through my thoughts. I had almost forgotten she was here.
"Yeah," I answer, placing the food on the counter.
She appears in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron as she studies me.
Her sharp gaze sweeps over me, taking in every detail, the tired slump of my shoulders, the way my fingers tremble slightly as I open the microwave. She always notices things, but she never pries.
"You're back early?" she asks.
"Yeah, I was feeling sick, so they told me to come home."
The lie rolls off my tongue easily. It's not the first time I've said it, and it won't be the last.
Mrs. May watches me for a moment before nodding. "That means the medicine the doctor gave you must be working. It's been a while since you've eaten properly."
I force a smile, though it doesn't quite reach my eyes. She's right. I haven't been eating, but not because of any illness. The truth is, I haven't taken any of the pills. I hate the taste of medicine, but more than that, I know what's really wrong.
It's Dan.
I keep my expression neutral as I take the warmed food from the microwave and set it on the counter.
I don't want to talk about this. Not with Mrs. May, not with anyone. But she sees more than I'd like her to.
"Your parents called," she says after a beat.
I don't turn around. I keep my eyes fixed on the steam rising from my plate, my hands tightening around the fork.
"Which one of them?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.
"Both," she says at first. But I don't move, waiting for the real answer.
A pause. Then, softer this time, "Your dad."
Mr. Edward.
I nod slowly, stabbing a piece of turkey with my fork. "They're worried about you, Helen."
I let out a short, humorless laugh. "Worried? From halfway across the world?"
Mrs. May doesn't respond. She knows better than to argue.
"They'll be back tomorrow," she adds, voice calm but cautious.
My hand freezes mid-air.
Tomorrow.
Six months. That's how long they've been gone this time. The time before that, two years. Before that, a year and a half.
At some point, I stopped counting. I don't even remember what it feels like to have parents to have them in the same house for more than a month at a time.
"Hmm." It's the only response I can manage.
I take a sip of my juice, letting the memories rush in like a flood I can't control.
I remember being a child, wrapped in my dad's arms as he carried me around the house, laughing. I remember my mom in the kitchen, preparing my favorite meals while my dad hovered between helping her and playing with me. I remember bedtime stories, warm kisses, the feeling of being wanted.
And then, suddenly, I remember the silence. The way they started leaving for longer and longer stretches of time.
The calls that became less frequent. The feeling of being a burden rather than a daughter.
I shake the thoughts away and glance at my phone. Still no response from Dan.
I've sent him almost fifty messages, apologies, explanations, anything to get him to talk to me.
And still, nothing.
My fingers hover over the screen. I shouldn't text him again. I know I shouldn't. But my hands move on their own, typing out the words before I can stop them.
"They'll be back tomorrow."
I press send before I can second guess myself, then drop my phone face down on the counter, my heart pounding. I tell myself I don't care if he replies. But I do.
God, I do.
I bite into a chunk of turkey, savoring the familiar taste of Mrs. May's cooking. I don't even remember what my mother's food tastes like anymore.
I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. The loneliness presses against my ribs, heavy and suffocating.
And then, a notification.
My breath catches. My fingers fumble as I flip my phone over, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Dan.
"You want me over?"
Relief floods me so quickly it almost hurts. A slow smile spreads across my face as I type back, "Yes. Please."
I push away from the counter, my body moving before my mind fully catches up. I need to freshen up. I need to see him. Three weeks. It's been three weeks since I last saw him, since I last felt him. No calls, no texts,
nothing.
Selena has her man. Everyone else has their person. But me? I only have Dan.
For the first time in weeks, I hum under my breath.
I even find myself dancing as I pick out a dress, something girly, something that will make him look at me the way he used to. I style my curls, apply my gloss, my hands shaking slightly from anticipation.
And then the doorbell rings.
I fly down the stairs, heart racing. The second I open the door, his amber, warm, familiar scent washes over me
I don't hesitate. I wrap my arms around his neck, burying myself in him, in the comfort he brings.
I don't want him to leave again. This is the longest we've been apart, and I swear to myself, it will be the last.
But something is off.
He doesn't hold me tightly like he used to.
Then, after a moment, his arms wrap around my waist, hesitant at first, then firm.
Finally.
I pull back just enough to look into his face. He won't meet my eyes.
He's scanning the room like it's the first time he's been here, like this isn't the place where we had our first intimate moment, where we shared so much more than words.
Something in my stomach twists, as I begin to talk,
"Dan, I'm sorry. I was just mad that you ignored my calls, so I ignored yours too. I didn't think—"
"You don't do that to me, I could be busy with real life issues," he snaps, avoiding my gaze
Tears fills up my eyes again,
'i shouldn't have been mad at him'.
Dan draws me Closer to him, noticing the guilt am feeling, I sit on his laps, he takes my lips closer to his, I can feel his hot scented fresh breath,
'I miss you '. I utter as we kiss, I can feel my heart racing, my chest beating loud, I know, he can hear my insides,
My body is screaming 'take all of me',
It seems he could hear me, Suddenly, he brings his soft plumpy lips on mine. And take my tongue into his mouth as he sucks it gently.
Dan pushes me towards my bed, I want him badly, I can feel him harden
His hands drifts downwards, I can hear a knock, then I hear a voice say,
"Helen, are you alright there? ".
It's Mrs May.
Dan stops immediately, and returns back to the couch in my room,
" Yes, Mrs May". I answer a bit rudely, She opens the door, looks at Dan suspiciously, then at me.
She leaves the door wide open and then leaves,
And that is my cue not to close the door again, Unless my parents would hear of this and they never approved of Dan, especially Dad.
" I should go ". Dan stands to leave,
I quickly move to him " I am sorry about this, Are you mad at me ".
"I don't think so, but we sure need privacy ". Dan says with a frown on his face, as he bends down to wear his shoes.
I smile, that's just his way of saying I miss you too.
"So no more Sabrina ". I quickly chip that in
"You pushed me into the hands of Sabrina." He shoots at me
The words hit me like a slap.
I feel myself break, piece by piece, as his meaning sinks in.
I may have lost him to Sabrina.
And it's all my fault.
"You wouldn't want me to toss her aside just like that, would you?" Dan says, stepping forward to close the distance between us.
Every fiber of my being screams, Why not?
But instead of saying it, I shake my head slowly.
A flicker of a smile crosses Dan's lips as he pulls me into his embrace. His arms tighten around me, and instinctively, I hold on just as tightly.
I wasn't ready to let him go—not to Sabrina, not to anyone. I'd do anything to keep him.
Tilting my head up, I rise onto my toes and press my lips to his, kissing him deeply.