Invisible String

A Shoulder To Lean On

I wish I had a best friend, she thought, the ache creeping back in as she glanced down at Weather, now burying his mess.

“I do have a best friend,” she said aloud, voice soft with affection as she smiled at him.

Her gaze returned to the apartment window. One of the girls, more masculine in presentation, made her breath catch. The resemblance to Kai was uncanny, too familiar. Her heart stopped. Don’t do this, she warned herself. Just a trick of the mind, a flicker of hope, nothing more.

But the ghosts she tried to forget have a way of finding her—sometimes in the most unexpected faces.

They strolled through the neighborhood until they reached the pet park nestled in Clemmy’s subdivision. With a flick of her fingers, Clemmy unclipped Weather’s leash, and the pup bolted into the fray, barking joyfully amid the chaos—like a kid let loose at recess.

Clemmy found solace beneath the shade of an old oak tree, the distant laughter of playing pets blending with the whisper of wind through leaves. She closed her eyes for a moment of peace.

Then—a gentle tap on her shoulder. Her breath caught.

She turned, startled, only to be met by a familiar smile.

It was Rory—ruddy-skinned, reddish waves tousled by the breeze, beard neat, and eyes lit with that soft, constant kindness she’d come to rely on. He chuckled and withdrew his hand, his warmth grounding her.

“Sorry, Clem! Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said gently, his voice as soothing as ever.

Rory had been her neighbor since she'd moved in the previous year—one of the rare people who made her feel safe, seen. In a world that too often greeted her with cold shoulders and sharper words, Rory was a reminder that kindness still existed.

“You didn’t scare me. I’m always terrified,” she chuckled, nudging his shoulder with a grin. He laughed, the sound low and sincere.

Rory hesitated, then leaned in slightly. “Hey, uh... a few nights ago, I think around 2 a.m., I saw a girl riding her bike out of your garage. From my bedroom window,” he added, sheepish. “Was that your sister? Are you… reconnecting?”

The question hung in the air, heavier than intended. Rory’s face paled. “Crap, sorry—I shouldn’t have said anything. That was nosy. I feel like an idiot.”

Clemmy let out a shy laugh and touched his arm, steady and kind. “It’s okay. She’s just a new friend from work. Not a coworker—someone I met at work. We hung out, she crashed at my place.” Her voice trailed as memories stirred: the  rhythm of Kai’s breath as she slept, the tenderness of tucking her in.

A knot formed in her chest. She shouldn’t care this much.

But she did.

“Ah,” Rory said, watching her with curiosity. “So... still not thinking about reconnecting with them?”

Clemmy’s smile faltered. “I want to. I do. But... I don’t think my parents have changed.”

Rory nodded slowly. “That’s fair. It’s hard to go back when you’re not sure what’s waiting there. But just so you know, whether they change or not... I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks, Rory,” she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s easy to forget how lucky I am, but then you go and remind me.”

“I’m lucky too. We’re in this together.”

The two sat in silence, watching the chaos of dogs, a few cats, and even one domesticated raccoon darting around. They laughed at the creatures’ awkward zoomies and tangled leashes, their hearts a little lighter. As the sky faded into dusk and the moon rose like a light, the world turned on—as it always had. And in that small turning, they found something steady in each other.

Even if neither of them realized just how much they needed it.

A few seconds later, Clemmy’s phone buzzed. She fished it out of her small purse with shaky hands, her heart pounding as her eyes scanned the screen. Rory glanced over, immediately sensing something was wrong. Without a word, he gently rubbed her shoulder, then took a step back to give her space.

"Hey. I'm here. Rory's here," he murmured, voice trembling between panic and comfort. "Breathe, Clem. Just breathe."

He slipped off his headset and placed it over her ears, hoping the music might soothe her frazzled nerves.

"You like calming music, right? Uh—wait, I’ve got a stress ball—hang on..." Rory’s words stumbled over each other like the clumsy dogs they’d watched earlier. He fumbled in his bag, finally producing the squishy toy and handing it to her. Clemmy immediately started to squeeze it, grounding herself.

Rory watched her exhale, the tension in her shoulders softening just a little. But something was still off. Was she dissociating? Having a flashback? He couldn’t quite tell. He stayed quiet, just watching her stim with the toy, while their pets continued to play nearby in the grass.

Suddenly, Clemmy stood. Rory jumped to his feet, startled.

“Wha—what’s wrong?” he asked quickly.

She peeled off the headset, dropped the stress ball on the grass, and looked at him with wide, urgent eyes.

“I—I have to go.”

“I’ll let you go,” Rory said, stepping closer, “but only if you tell me what’s going on. Please. I’m worried, Clem.”

Clemmy hesitated, chest heaving with shallow breaths. Then, reluctantly, she handed him the headset back. “My... my dad messaged me,” she whispered. “He said... my little sister is dead.”

The words dropped like rainstorm. Her knees gave out, and she crumpled into Rory’s arms, sobbing.

He caught her and held her tight, not caring that his shirt was getting soaked. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sure she was just as kind and beautiful as you are. Do you want to talk about it?”

“N-no. Not yet...”

“It’s okay,” he said gently, brushing her tears away with the back of his finger, cupping her face tenderly. “Losing someone you love—especially without a chance to say goodbye—is the worst kind of pain. I get it.” He paused. “Let me walk you home?”

She nodded, wordless, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

They gathered their pets in silence and began the slow walk back, fingers intertwined for comfort. A few neighbors glanced their way, curious, but no one interrupted. Clemmy’s thoughts were far away, lost in memories of her sister, while Rory stayed close.

At her porch, Rory reluctantly released her hand. Clemmy turned back before stepping inside. He gave her a soft smile and a small wave.

She returned the smile, eyes tired but grateful, and disappeared into her home.

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A U T U M N G I R L W R I T E [2024]