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There is an emptiness in my chest that echoes along the walls and through the hallways of my home. An endless pulse that practically hums along the floorboards as I stand at the head and stare into the space created by my parents.

I love this house nearly as much as I hate it.

When my parents were alive, coming home was like stepping into a warm bath on a cold December. Everything was bright and warm, and welcoming. Dad would be on the sofa, bent over the mountain of paperwork spread across the coffee table and Mom would be sitting beside him, curled up with her book. They’d both look up and smile. Mom would drag me into the kitchen for a light snack while we talked about our day. Suppers were always around the dinner table. Despite it just being the three of us, meals were nonstop laughter and chatter.

Now, it’s a collection of all the things they left behind. It’s silence I can’t erase even when I have the radio playing. It’s everything exactly the way they left it, including me.

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” I tell the emptiness.

I can’t be.

I can’t stay in a town where Lauren and Bron will always be yet another ghost in my life. I can’t see Lauren and not want to run to her. I can’t even look at my phone without wanting to pick it up and text her. I miss her so much the ache is suffocating.

But it goes beyond that.

I can’t stay and pretend I didn’t have the best week of my life every time I see Lachlan and Van. I can’t pretend they mean nothing to me. I can’t go the rest of my life wanting them to touch me and being deprived because Jefferson will always know. Already, I can only imagine the gossip being circulated about me and Bron. About yesterday’s altercation. Then, after Bron was thrown into holding, I ran off with his dad ... and his dad’s best friend. The hive must be buzzing. I’m partially awed by the fact that I don’t have a string of neighbors on my doorstep who justhappened to be in the neighborhood.

Joking aside though, I need to fix this. I need to free Van and Lachlan from my curse. I have to sever any connection that could be linked back to me.

Mind set, I stalk to my purse still sitting on the kitchen island and dig inside for my phone. The device takes ages to power on and flashes that it needs to be charged right before the onslaught of a million texts, emails, voicemails, and missed calls pop up across the screen. The relentless chirping has me placing the sound on mute as I scroll through my contacts.

Teddy Abram answers on the third ring. His upbeat greeting makes me smile.

“Hey there stranger! How goes?”

I’ve always liked Teddy. Even when we went to school together, he’d been that guy everyone just ... gravitated to. If he wasn’t tutoring kids after school, he was teaching them to swim. If he wasn’t running grocery orders to the elderly, he was, as captain, keeping the basketball team in shape. Even as an adult, there isn’t a soul alive who isn’t wildly fond of him ... except Bron.

“Hey, Teddy, how are you?”

I hear the rapid click of keys and I can just picture him hunched over his computer, wired glasses perched low on his nose. Hair a dark tangle of disarray.

“Just dandy. Getting some paperwork done at the office.”I hear him hesitate before asking lightly,“How are you?”

I hear the edge in the question, and I know Teddy well enough that he’s not fishing for gossip but genuinely asking out of concern.

“It’s been an interesting few days.” I force a chuckle. “It’s actually why I’m calling you.”

The clicking stops and I know I have his full attention.

“Sure thing. What do you need?”

It takes twenty minutes to finalize my decision. It takes multiple,are you sure about this,from Teddy and my absolutecertainty before it’s all said and done and I can finally hang up feeling ... lighter.

It’s weird because I always thought it would be too hard, too complicated. But with nothing holding me in place anymore, the decision happened. It clicked into place. I have no regrets.

Still, I steal a peek at the clock. I nibble on my lip as I gauge how long they’ve been gone.

I need to stop. I need to stop needing them. I need to get used to being alone. I need to accept that they will no longer be in my life.

Determined, hanging on to that resolve, I stalk to the basement and unearth every empty box I can find. I drag them upstairs and set to work tearing apart the hallway closet. I empty the cupboards, the drawers. I dismantle the bookcases and hollow out everything under the TV stand.

I’m bent over in a box of my dad’s old car magazines when the knock sounds.

“Come in!” I yell without moving, knowing without ever glancing up who it is. “I have everything—”

Strong arms band around my middle, and I’m swept off my feet. My squeak of surprise is met with a hard, bare chest as I’m carted to the sofa. My back hits the cushion. My skirt flips high around my flailing thighs with my bounce.