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ANYA

Three Years Earlier

I AM SO ANXIOUS. I’m jumping at every minor movement and sound, whipping my head around so fast each time the door opens that my neck is sore. I’ve been waiting and waiting for Mason to show up. To return one of my calls. To send a text message. Anything . It’s been two days of radio silence. My brother has dropped off the face of the earth. They must be together. I don’t know what’s going on. I have never felt so distant from them. So isolated. So alone.

‘Chin up, buttercup,’ Phoebe says, running her hand over my hair when she notices me staring at the front door. I keep imagining them walking in, laughing, throwing the football around as usual. Mason’s eyes catching mine, his crooked smile lighting up the room, the air evaporating as he walks towards me. ‘I’m sure they’re just out doing what they usually do. Having fun.’

‘It’s weird that neither of them has reached out to me. They didn’t seem to be acting weird the night of my birthday, did they?’

Phoebe shrugs, her long hair pulled back into a high pony. She loves swishing it around, and today it’s driving me nuts. ‘I wasn’t really paying much attention. You know I don’t care for Mason. He’s a dick.’

‘Can you not?’ I grumble, pushing her hand away and getting to my feet.

Phoebe is literally the only other person who knows what happened between Mason and me, and she is going out of her way to be as insensitive as possible. It’s almost like she’s angry with me for some reason. I’m already so stressed and anxious about what happened, and then about not hearing from Mason or seeing him. I don’t need her making it worse.

‘I’m just saying, you can do so much better, babe. You have boys drooling over you, stop wasting your time.’

‘Maybe you should go,’ I say, the tight knot of anger in my chest threatening to explode any second. I can’t do this right now.

She blanches at my words, spinning to face me. ‘What?’

‘You should go. I’m tired.’ Getting to my feet, I don’t even look back at her as I head to the stairs, climbing up them, my feet feeling heavy.

Two hours later, my phone rings, jolting me from sleep. I lunge for it, seeing my brother’s name.

‘Where the fuck have you been?’ I snap.

‘Hello to you, too, little sis.’

‘Seriously? I haven’t heard from you for two days.’

‘I haven’t slept. I’ve been partying non-stop. I just charged my phone. I’m kind of spiralling. About Mason. It was just so ... out of nowhere.’

My heart climbs up my throat. He knows?

‘M-Mason?’ I stammer, struggling to get the words out.

‘Did you know?’

I pause, brow furrowing. ‘Know what?’

‘Oh shit, you don’t know.’

‘Is this a stupid game you’re playing with me right now? Whatever it is, I’m not in the mood, and it’s seriously not funny,’ I huff, exasperated.

‘He left.’

The boom of my heartbeat is all I can hear. My throat tightens. My chest constricts. There’s a strange buzzing in my head. ‘What?’ A broken whisper leaves my lips.

‘Mason. He left. Packed his bags and ...’ Zayden trails off, ending the sentence with a low whistle. ‘Gone.’

Tears swim in my vision as I sit bolt upright. ‘He’s gone ? Gone where?’

‘Italy. That’s the first place on his list, apparently.’

‘Are you joking right now?’

‘No.’

‘Mason can’t have just left without saying goodbye to me,’ I say, panic welling inside me, making me sound hysterical. ‘He didn’t even say goodbye to you ?’

‘No, he didn’t,’ my brother replies, voice firm and wounded. ‘I’m fucking gutted. I don’t know if something happened with his dad, but he just went all fucking weird and left. I don’t know what the hell is going on with him. He’s been out of sorts for weeks.’

‘I can’t wrap my head around this,’ I choke out, unable to control the tears and the shake in my voice.

‘He’ll be okay. He needs to get away for a while, do his own thing, and then he’ll be back. It’ll be like he never left.’

‘Yeah,’ I say, my voice sounding far away, unlike my own.

‘I have to go. Let’s meet for coffee tomorrow. I’ll text you.’

My brother hangs up before I can say a word, and my phone slips from my hand.

He left.

Choking on ragged breaths, I wipe and wipe at my cheeks, trying to rid the flood of tears, but it’s no use. They keep coming, clogging my nose, my throat, my lungs. I can’t see. I can’t fucking breathe.

He left me .

All of this – years of banter, tension, lingering stares, forbidden touches. All gone after he got his one thing from me. The only thing he cared about.

Every word. Every touch. Every kiss.

It was all a lie.

I’m naive and so damn stupid; I want to scream. He had me in the palm of his hand and tossed me aside once he was done with me. My best friend. The person who consumed not just my mind, but my heart. Gone. No goodbye.

Nothing.

My lungs burn. My chest heaves. Each inhale is like an icy needle stabbing into my heart, over and over. My soul feels broken. Crushed. Demolished.

He promised me we would be together. He promised me this was real.

He promised ...

Collapsing back into my bed, the tears spill down my cheeks and into my mouth, making me feel like I might just drown in them. Turning, I roll onto my side, staring at the photo frame perched on my bedside table. It’s a set of three. In the final photo, Mason has me in his arms, bridal style. He’s staring down at me, and I’m beaming at the camera, my hand thrown up into a peace sign. Sobbing, I bury my face into the pillow, letting the pain eat at me until there is nothing left.