Patient A-3

Chapter 19: Click, Click

Avalyn

With each passing day, life has become more manageable. Cierien and I have fallen into a comfortable routine. He ensures that I'm up no later than noon, prepares my breakfast, and then embarks on various little activities throughout the day with me. So far, we have successfully completed two puzzles, crocheted six bucket hats, and explored nearly every board game in my collection.

Recently, I've had the pleasure of teaching Cierien how to utilize his new cellphone, which somehow ended up in his possession courtesy of Wrath. He never fails to send me a good morning text, even though he's just downstairs preparing my breakfast. As the day turns to evening, we'll finish the night with either a movie or a few chapters of the book we're both engrossed in.

Each day has felt surprisingly normal, blending into the next, all filled with joy and anticipation. The reason behind this newfound happiness was him. Even Wrath, who's known for his temper, has been transformed into a more pleasant presence. Although our encounters are infrequent, which I prefer, the moments we do share are peaceful. He's often in his room, his head in a new book each time I see him.

It's just past noon when I muster the resolve to reach out to Mrs. Jackson. My state of mind has finally improved, and I now feel ready to make the call. With a deep breath, I dial her number. The phone barely has time to ring once before the resounding voice of the older lady filters in through the speaker. "Christ! Where have ya been, child? Do you know how worried I've been?" She exclaims, the concern in her voice palpable through the crackling phone line.

"I'm sorry," I whine, guilt gnawing at me. "I've been going through it lately, but I should have at least checked in."

"That would have been nice, Avalyn," Mrs. Jackson replies sternly. "You haven't even been talking to Sophie, I hear?"

I wince as a pang of regret hits me at the mention of Sophie's name. I've given her just enough to keep her from pounding down my door, but her constant messages have been full of worry. I've never gone so long without speaking to Sophie. She's probably in her head, thinking she's done something wrong. The truth is, I've been so occupied with Cierien that I haven't felt the need to call her.

I'm a shit friend.

"I know. I plan on calling her soon. I don't want to worry either of you," I reply, my tone hinged with shame. I pause to collect my thoughts before continuing, " I've been out of work for far too long, but I'll be back soon. I just-

"Stop," she interjects firmly. "We don't need to talk work, kiddo. I'm not worried about work; I'm worried about you. We've been over this."

Her firm tone eases my anxiety, and I find solace in her genuine concern. However, that lingering of disappointing the only family I have left nags at the back of my mind. "I'm alright, I promise," I assure her. "I'm going to check in more, okay? I'm sorry for worrying you."

"Even a text message will suffice. I might be too old to figure out how to reply, but at least I'll know you're okay."

I snicker at her comment. "Okay, Mrs. Jackson. I'll-"

Before I can finish my sentence, Cierien suddenly cuts me off, falling silent when he sees my wide-eyed expression, "Hey, Av, why don't we start that-"

"Avalyn Rose Adair, do not tell me the reason you've been ignoring everyone is because of-" She takes a deep breath, her voice filled with exasperation, "a man," she spits out the word, drawing it out with dramatic disgust.

I turn away from Cierien, leaving him in the kitchen, and take a seat on the living room sofa. I chew on my lip nervously, my mind struggling to find the right words in response. I never wanted to be the girl who grows distant from everyone she knows because of a new relationship, but it's partly true. Cierien, of course, isn't my partner and our situation is a lot more complicated than simply spending time with a new man, especially considering he has fangs in place of his canines. I wish I could explain it so that it doesn't sound unusual. However, telling the truth isn't an appropriate response. So, I settle on, "No, ma'am. He's just a friend, I swear."