Doll Parts (The Game 4)

“Why did you come?”

He didn’t respond right away.

The silence wasn’t tense or awkward per se, but there was something. The resignation hadn’t left his expression.

“I wanted to see you,” he said quietly. “You were right. I’m asking your mother for a divorce—tomorrow. And I wanted to see you one more time before she undoubtedly demands you take her side in the divorce proceedings.”

She could fucking dream!

I shook my head, suddenly a bit queasy. “I love her, but I’m not choosing anybody’s side. You’re both my family, KC.”

Why didn’t he look relieved at that? He winced instead, and it filled me with dread. The sensation came so fast and so heavily that I nearly choked on my next breath. There was something he wasn’t telling me.

Oh my God, was he gonna divorce me too?!

“I’ll still have you in my life, right?” I demanded.

“I—fuck.” He blew out a breath and flicked on the turn signal. I wasn’t ready—shit, shit, shit—we were almost at my apartment. “It’s complicated, Noa. I’m not in a good place right now, and maybe it’s for the best if we—”

“No!” I yelled. I couldn’t stop it. All of a sudden, a ball of anger erupted within me, and he couldn’t fucking do this. “Don’t say what you’re gonna say. I’ll fucking cry. You can’t leave me.”

He reached over and squeezed my hand. “Please don’t see it that way, freckles. I beg you. The last thing I wanna do is make you feel abandoned. I’m talking about a break. I need time to sort out the utter clusterfuck that is my life.”

“We can sort it out together!” I argued, already getting weepy. I couldn’t help it. This hurt. My chest felt all tight, and my stomach was rolling and twisting uncomfortably.

I instantly recognized another sensation building up. Desperation. I could already picture future weekends when I went home to see Mom. It would be just the two of us. She’d feel sorry for herself, I’d feel guilty for resenting her behavior, and the loneliness would follow.

The city lights stole my attention, as well as the all-too-familiar neighborhood we entered. In less than a minute, we’d be outside my building.

“I’ll be staying with Lucian for a while,” he said.

I sniffled and wiped at my cheeks, refusing to look his way. Instead, I counted the parked cars along the street, each one bringing us closer to what felt like a more permanent goodbye.

A break was never a good thing. It was a coward’s slow exit.

That thought killed something within me. I stopped crying, and I clenched my jaw. He wanted to leave? So fucking be it. I didn’t need him. Twelve years of being family—let’s just ruin that! I still remembered the first time I met him. He’d recently started dating Mom, and she had him over for dinner. He’d been very polite—and keen on getting along with me. He’d been prepared with tickets to a hockey game and a set of drumsticks as a gift. Not that he’d needed any of it. I’d looked at him in amazed wonder from the beginning, drawn to his easy demeanor and casual smiles. He had the most beautiful laugh. Infectious and warm.

KC stopped the car, and the memories of his laughter faded into a cold void.

“Thank you for the ride.” I grabbed my duffel, opened the door, and stepped out immediately, having no desire to draw things out. “Have a good life, KC.”

“Noa, wait—”

Nope. I was gonna be as brutal as he was. Well, I was gonna fake it till I made it.

My street was brownstone central, lined with several narrow, four-story buildings that’d seen better days. I ran up the stoop to my entrance, hearing a door slam behind me, and that shot my pulse through the roof. I didn’t want him to chase after me as much as I dreaded the disappointment if I turned around and discovered that it wasn’t him at all but someone else.

“Noa!”

But it was KC, and I was already failing at faking it. I couldn’t. It hurt too much. I wasn’t merely losing a friend or my mom’s husband; I was losing a dad. And someone I was mildly obsessed with. He was my security blanket.

“You realize I have a key to your apartment, right?” KC said irritably.

“Don’t use it!” I yelled. Then I ducked inside the building, ran up to the second floor, and unlocked the door to my place. My little studio apartment that he had managed to score for me. Finding a rental in DC that didn’t force you to declare personal bankruptcy after the first month’s rent was damn near impossible, but he had connections, and he hadn’t hesitated to shell out a deposit.

I’d rather live at home or out in some Podunk town that I could afford if it meant I’d still have him in my life.