Oblivious

8. alone

I packed a few more things, ignoring the chaos I felt inside, the chaos inside my bags and the chaos left in the room when I was done. Slinging the bulky backpacks over my shoulders, I glanced at my room one last time. I would miss this place, but mostly I would miss Ayden. Despite his attitude and the unfairness of the situation, I would still unpack my bags if he just gave me a sign. It didn't have to be much—a flick of his hand, a shrug, anything would suffice.

The grayish walls might not have been the most stylish ones and the bed was definitely bordering on uncomfortable, but this place had the first one to feel like a home after Dad died. It would take a while until I felt comfortable somewhere else. Sighing, I closed my eyes for a second longer than necessary and turned around. Hopefully, he would come to his senses.

Ayden sat on the sofa, fiddling with the remote control as I passed behind him. He didn't even look my way—he barely flinched in fact. I had the urge to stop behind him and shout something in his ear just to get a reaction, but I wasn't that stupid. It wouldn't help my situation.

Clutching my bags, I walked away from the only person who truly meant something. Each step carried too much weight, too many unspoken words and repressed emotions, but Ayden wouldn't listen.

"Leave your keys on the way out." Ayden's words felt like hands latching around my throat. It became hard to breathe. Anger and frustration fought the waves of sadness, and I managed to search the pocket of my jeans. The rugged end of the key dug into my palm. I didn't have another one—I had no other home. Straightening my back, I put it down on the small hall table, opened the front door and stepped out into the corridor.

The door shut with a click, and before I had gathered the strength to walk away, I heard footsteps approaching on the other side. Stupidly holding on to the faint hope that he had changed his mind, I waited. My heart jolted in my chest, but it turned into a fearful beat as I heard the unmistakable sound of a lock turning.

The sense of finality left me hollow.

I hauled a cab off the street, threw my bags into the trunk and got into the backseat.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

"Just drive."

He gave me an odd stare through the rear view mirror.

Slumping against the seat, I got out my phone. I had one person to call, one who probably waited for me to get in touch, but I couldn't call her. Staring at her name made me remember all the good times we'd had together in between the bad. It didn't matter. It would be unfair to both of us to rekindle something which had no future. I tucked the phone away and leaned my forehead against the cold window.

"Drive me to a cheap hotel."

The driver nodded. "Do you have one in mind?"

"No. Anywhere is fine." I stared back at the building, finding the windows alight with warmth. I felt as much anger as regret, and together the two emotions whirled into a strange kind of resignation.

I ended up at a run-down hotel on the outskirts of town. It was a dingy place where the only items that looked remotely clean were the sheets. I had a feeling they had to buy new ones on a regular basis judging by the small vending machine for condoms parked just outside the entrance. It was slightly depressing to know that others used these rooms for sex, but it was the end of the month and my wallet was empty. It was this place or the street.

I threw the bags into a faux leather chair and lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. My thoughts kept returning to Ayden, regardless of how much I wanted them to silence. Everything about the situation left me unsettled. He was hurt, and here I was, incapable of helping him.