NICK

"His finger twitched," Noah said. "About an hour ago. And there was—" He paused for a moment. "A tear. Just one."

I processed this information. It had clinical significance. Motor activity and an emotional response during an unconscious state meant the brain was present. It was processing. It was fighting its way back through the fog.

"That’s good," I said. I didn’t look up from the chart. "It means he isn’t static. The brain is working. Don’t read too much into the specific content of the reaction. Just note that it occurred."

Noah nodded. I could see the relief in the way his shoulders dropped, even if he didn’t say a word.

I finished the check and moved toward the door. I stopped before I reached the handle. A question arrived in my throat before I could decide to hold it back.

"Did anyone else come by?" I asked the door. "Any other visitors?"

I saw the slight surprise on Noah’s face. "No," he said. "Just me. Why?"

"Nothing," I replied. "I thought I saw—never mind. I must be tired."

I gave him my orders before I left. I told him the specific hours he was allowed to stay and gave him instructions on when he needed to leave. I spoke with the finality of someone who was not asking for an opinion.

Noah started to argue, but I cut him off.

"You aren’t staff," I said. "You are here as a courtesy, and that courtesy has conditions. Leave by seven." I didn’t wait for an answer before I walked out.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of activity. The work required everything I had to give, and I gave it willingly. Giving the work everything meant there was nothing left for Cyan, or the apartment, or the memory of 5:24 AM.

My body was still presenting its invoice. The headache stayed with me, a constant thrumming behind my temples. I took a second dose of medication and told myself it was manageable. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

I finished my shift, clocked out, and walked to my car in the cool evening air. I drove the familiar route home, my hands steady on the wheel.

I stopped at the grocery store on the way. It was a practical stop. I needed things for the kitchen.

I found myself in the candy aisle. I saw the chocolate on the shelf and reached out to take four bars. That was my usual quantity. But my hand paused. I took another. Then I paused again.

I stood frozen in the aisle with a dozen bars in my hand. I usually only buy four. My brain started a calculation I didn’t want it to finish. He ate all of mine. If he is still there—

I tried to stop the thought, but it was too late. The damage was done. If he is still there, he might want this.

I felt a sudden heat in my face. It was the heat of pure embarrassment. I was a grown man standing alone in a grocery store, holding eight extra chocolate bars for a person I barely knew. I was acting like someone I didn’t recognize.

I grabbed an extra bar and threw it into the basket. I did it because I was committing to the embarrassment now, or perhaps I was punishing myself for it. I wasn’t sure which.

I moved to the other aisles. I picked out ingredients... fresh vegetables, good proteins. I chose the kind of things that go toward a nutritious meal.

I found myself selecting items that would be good for a person who had been through a trauma. I was doing it without being asked. I was doing it without him knowing. I was doing it without anyone knowing.

My basket was full of evidence of a person I was not prepared to be. I checked out as fast as I could and didn’t look at the contents of the bags again.

I sat in my car and looked at my phone. There was a missed call from Lila and a notification for a voicemail. I played it because ignoring her only led to more conversations I didn’t want to have.

Her voice filled the small space of the car. She asked about last night. She asked why I had left without waking her and why I was acting so strangely. She wanted to know why I had arrived without an explanation and asked me to call her back.

I listened to the whole message. When it ended, I didn’t call her back. I set the phone on the passenger seat and started the engine. I watched the road as I drove toward my building.

I need to end this, I thought. It was a brief, sharp thought. I didn’t act on it. I saved it for later. Later is where I put everything I don’t want to deal with immediately.

I parked the car and took the elevator to my floor. I entered the code and opened the door.

The first thing I noticed was the dark. There was more of it than I expected. The television was off.

I stood in the doorway with the heavy grocery bags in my hands and listened. The apartment was quiet. It was a wrong kind of quiet. It was the silence of a space that had been occupied and was now empty.

I walked into the living room.

It was empty.

I looked at the couch. The blanket was folded neatly and set at one end. It was done with a precision that hadn’t been there this morning.

I moved through the rest of the space.

The kitchen was empty. The bathroom door was standing open, showing an empty room.

The apartment was mine again.

It was entirely mine. The order had been restored. Everything was exactly as it had been before I brought him here.

But he was gone.

The pink-haired man that had been plaguing my thoughts all day had vanished.

I felt my blood go cold in my veins.

I was still holding the grocery bags. I thought about the thirteen chocolate bars.

I thought about the fresh ingredients and the things I had selected for a person who was no longer there.

I stood in my living room in the dark. I was holding food for a man who had left without saying a single word.

A feeling arrived that I couldn’t name.