The leaving was about to begin.
I had done this many times before. It was nothing new to fill the boxes. To tape them shut. To load them in my car and drive away. To a new place. A new life.
A new purpose.
However, things had changed.
Elian.
He was the point of all of it.
When I had searched for him, I had a plan. A very clear one.
Ingratiate myself into his world.
Get to know him.
Let him know me.
The parts that he wanted to see.
And then he would love me.
They always did.
There had been others before. There would be others after. None of them had mattered.
Elian was different.
It was because of her.
Amelia.
“Help me!” she screamed. Her green, green eyes pleaded with me. Amelia. Poor, poor Amelia.
She was mine.
Daddy had gotten her just for me.
Something had happened on the way to the end. Something that in all my planning, I hadn’t anticipated.
Love.
Or what I assumed was the elusive, indefinable feeling.
I had nothing really to compare it to.
Nothing healthy anyway.
I fell for the liar with the dancing green eyes. He had filled a corner of my lonely heart.
For a while.
But then he changed. He started to unravel. The game had altered and became something else.
I found him at his weakest. But he wanted to be strong. For me he would be everything.
Anything.
But he could only fail.
Because in the end, our hearts would never be enough.
I let myself into my apartment. My home for another few hours. I was happy to leave.
I dropped my purse on the counter in the kitchen and got myself a drink of water. I thought about Elian. What he was doing.
What would I find when I went back?
Would he be ready?
Was I?
I felt a familiar sort of longing in my gut and the buzzing in my ears.
Buzz…
“Layna, dear, are you in here?”
Mrs. Statham had bad timing.
“In here, Mrs. Statham,” I called out. No way to avoid it. She had to be dealt with. She wasn’t a bad sort. She just wasn’t someone who had any lasting impression.
She would be forgotten. Just like all the others that had come and gone. Secondary. Intermittent. Temporary.
“I brought you some more cookies.” The old lady stopped and looked at the boxes on the coffee table. She frowned. “Are you moving?”
I tried not to snap at her. I had to maintain the fa?ade to the very end.
“Yes, Mrs. Statham. I’ve decided to move home.” Almost the truth. Just barely.
Mrs. Statham looked upset. She liked me. She had come to regard me with a lingering affection. I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
“Where’s home?” she asked. Another dig for information. She was always, always digging. I was glad to be free of her constant prying.
“Away from here,” I said with a smile as I took the cookies from her hand. I lifted one off the plate and put it in my mouth. It was vile. The most disgusting thing I had ever tasted. I swallowed it, suppressing a gag.
“I hate this. You’re the best neighbor I’ve had in years. None of that obnoxious rock music at all hours of the night. No strange visitors. You keep to yourself but you’re nice. A nice, sweet girl. It’s a shame. I had hoped you were putting down roots here.”
If anything, I had played my part well. I could take satisfaction in that.
“No. It’s time for me to move on, Mrs. Statham. This was always just a stop along the way. Nothing more.”
Nothing more.
Another chapter in the story.
The most important story of all.
“When are you leaving?” she asked. The old woman looked so forlorn. So unhappy.
“Immediately. As soon as I can finish packing,” I told her honestly. I ate the rest of the cookie. Hating every bite.
“Well, bring that plate back up before you go so I can say goodbye.” She sniffled. Her rheumy eyes wet with tears.
And then she hugged me. Tight.
“I’m gonna miss you, Layna. Take care of yourself,” she said thickly. I nodded.
I’d always take care of myself.