“Hi,” I said to Alice, sinking onto the couch beside her, rubbing sleep from my eyes. I tucked my knees into my chest, hugging them tight. I pulled the sleeves of my hoodie further down my arms, trying to trap what little warmth remained.
“Sweetheart, you need a shower,” she said, her voice gentle. She set her book aside and raised an eyebrow, assessing me.
“I know. I just…don’t want to do anything,” I groaned, the words muffled against my knees.
Alice looked me over, then stood. “I’m going to start dinner. If you feel up to eating, that is.”
I stretched my back and nodded, a small concession.
“Why don’t you take a walk?” she suggested. “I need bread from the market. It’ll do you good, and maybe you can get ice cream—we could have a movie night.”
I shrugged, taking a deep breath. I didn’t want to agree, but she was right. I needed to move.
I exhaled slowly, a sigh of surrender, and pushed myself to my feet. “Okay,” I said, and started toward the stairs. The bathroom door felt cool under my hand. I paused in front of the mirror. Dark circles shadowed my eyes, and my hair was a mess. I turned on the faucet, and the cold water jolted me awake, a smile tugging at my lips as it warmed. Stepping into the shower, letting the water cascade over my skin, was a small, blessed relief. Alice had created a new playlist for me, cheerful songs filling my phone.
I showered quickly, towel-drying my long blonde hair and applying just enough makeup to feel…less invisible. I pulled on clothes, then headed downstairs to say goodbye before slipping out the front door.
As my hand reached for the handle, I realized what I was doing. I was leaving the house for the first time in days. A flicker of pride warmed me.
I opened the door and stepped onto the dull gray pavement, walking towards the store. I glanced up at the sky, a vibrant, crystal blue, and imagined how it would look if I could actually feel happy. I took a deep breath of fresh air, and exhaled, managing a small smile. I looked down at my feet, watching my faded black Vans kick pebbles down the sidewalk. Footsteps ahead made me turn. And there he was. Not just *a* boy. *My* boy—or, more accurately, my ex-boy. Ethan was almost right in front of me. I stopped, frozen, my eyes widening.
“Marie, I was just heading to your house,” he said, running a hand through his shaggy dark brown hair.
“Ethan, what the hell,” I choked out, my voice barely a whisper. I nervously twisted a strand of wet hair around my fingers and stared at the ground.
“I really wanted to talk to you.” He moved closer, his hand resting on my waist, gently pulling me towards him.