No strings attached / Leon s. Kennedy

Chapter 15

Amber

I'm sitting in my car, parked just outside my apartment building, my head resting heavily against the steering wheel. If anyone were to walk by, they'd probably think I was either dead or passed out from exhaustion. Maybe I am. My hands grip the loose fabric of my pants so tightly that I know my knuckles must be white, but I can't bring myself to look.

How the hell did I let that happen?

The steering wheel presses hard against my forehead, grounding me in the moment, but my thoughts keep spiraling. Why did it feel so good? And why, despite everything, do I hate him even more now?

The frustration inside me twists like a knife, sharp and relentless. Leon. Of all people. How could I have let myself get caught up in that moment with him? Everything about it feels wrong now, but at the time... god, I didn't want it to stop. And that's what scares me the most.

I swallow hard, the weight of it pressing down on me, suffocating me. I hate him. I hate him for pushing me away, for making me feel so exposed, so vulnerable. I hate him for making me lose control like that, and for making me want something I know I shouldn't.

I close my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. In and out, Amber. Just breathe. The tightness in my chest loosens, if only slightly, but my hands are still trembling, still gripping my pants like they're the only thing keeping me from screaming.

After a few moments, I raise my head, the cool air in the car brushing against my skin. I blink, staring out the windshield at the empty street in front of me. Whatever. It felt good, and that's all it was.

It doesn't matter why it happened or how messed up it feels now. All that matters is that it's over, and I'm going to forget it ever happened. I reach for the door handle and step out of the car, the cold night air hitting me as I stand on shaky legs.

I walk up to my apartment complex, ignoring the elevator completely. The thought of standing in that cramped space, feeling the walls close in, doesn't appeal to me. I don't live that far up anyway, so I take the stairs. Each step feels heavier than the last, but I keep moving, forcing myself forward.

When I finally reach my door, I slip inside, closing it behind me with a heavy sigh. The silence of my apartment feels both comforting and suffocating at the same time, but at least it's familiar. 

Without wasting any more time, I walk over to my desk and turn on the PC, my fingers moving mechanically across the keyboard. My heart sinks a little as I pull up the file. The letter. The damn letter that's been haunting me for days.

It wasn't at Leon's. I tore through his place, and it just wasn't there. As much as part of me still wants to believe he has it, that he's playing me somehow, the reality is sinking in. He might not have it.

Maybe this really was just my own stupidity, my own carelessness. I won't find it, not now. So, I do what I should've done from the beginning. I print the document out again.

The hum of the printer fills the quiet room, and I watch as the page slowly emerges. I exhale, feeling a strange mix of relief and dread. It's done.

I push the freshly printed document into the folder on my desk, where it belongs. It's time to pretend it was never gone. I smooth down the folder, making sure everything looks as it should, then step away. The weight that's been sitting on my chest feels lighter now, but not gone. Just tucked away for now, hidden like everything else I've tried to bury.

I make my way to the bathroom, flicking on the light and staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face is tired, a little hollow around the eyes.