Sweetheart

59

I raise a shoulder. "They're not my first choice."

"What's your first choice?" Davina asks me.

"Cambridge," I admit. "But they haven't written back to me yet."

Aaron takes my hand and squeezes it. "I'm sure they will."

I nod, hopeful. "They probably just have many people applying there."

"Why Cambridge, though?" Logan asks, tilting his head.

"It's one of the best vet schools," I explain. "Which is what I'm hoping to do. Even though my parents don't love that idea."

"They'd be stupid not to take you," Aaron tells me, pulling me in, and resting my head on his shoulder. "Don't worry. It's gonna work out."

I bob my head. "I hope so."

———

This afternoon Aaron is staying at Grace's place to grab some boxes he still hasn't moved. Old books, documents, and folders. It's mostly stuff he doesn't need, so I'm not surprised he left it here while he settled down back at home.

Now that he's been there for weeks, though, he's come to grab it from Grace's garage to and move it to his parents' basement.

I help him out, even though he insisted multiple times that I didn't do anything. I can't help but grimace and the number of things he has. "Why don't you get rid of this stuff? It's not like you're ever going to use it again, right?"

He picks up a heavy box, and I very evidently stare at his arms. He smirks. "You'll never know. Maybe one day I'll need this..." He glances inside his box. "This Thai recipe book. Better keep it."

I roll my eyes, but giggle. "I'll go back upstairs and grab the last box we left there. I can't stand the cold of this place anymore."

"All right. I'll finish up here."

I leave the freezing room and head back into his old bedroom. It's so empty I get chills. It makes me colder than the garage.

I fill up the already full box with the few folders that were left on the bookshelves. Some notebooks and old drawings are lying around, so I throw those in as well.

While I'm crouched down to gather some other stuff, I notice from the corner of my eye Milo jumping on the bed, a little too close to the full box. With a loud thud, the folders and books and papers fall, lying discarded on the floor.

I curse, scurrying to pick them up. "Goddamn it, Milo."

Quickly entering the living room from the house drive-in, Aaron shouts, "Everything okay?

"Yeah. A box fell," I yell back.

I bend down, picking up the things that have fallen. I pile the notebooks back in the box, collecting a series of old envelopes he owns. I look through them, setting aside the ones that are ads and publicity. "What?" Aaron shouts, not hearing what I said.

"I said—" I start, but my voice dies in my throat.
My whole body stills as my hands squeeze the edges of the white envelope I'm holding, crumpling up the pristine paper.

Aaron's footsteps sound in the empty house as he climbs up the stairs, finding me in his room. "Hey. What happened? I heard a thud," I hear him say from behind me, but his voice is muffled by my thoughts. "Lizzie? You okay? What's wrong?"

My eyes are filling up with tears as I turn around to face him. "What is this?" I whisper with barely any voice, lifting the envelope. His eyes scan it and he pales. As rage and sorrow mix, I repeat through gritted teeth, "What is this, Aaron?"