Dead love in my hands (Troy Otto story/ Fear the walking dead/ ftwd)

Im not like everybody else

I woke up in my bed. In the first seconds, I couldn't believe that this was reality. I'm here again. At the ranch.

The September sun was beating on the window, which still had no curtains. We need to hang them... Now I'm going to stay here for a long time. I turned around and realized that I was lying alone. Troy wasn't there, but as soon as I noticed it, he immediately appeared in the doorway. Again in military uniform and with a rifle in his hands, as before. It seemed to me that we had never left here.

"Good morning," I smiled, stretching slowly.

"Hi. I'm going on a sortie with a squad," Troy was clearly not in the mood for a pleasant conversation, "you can still sleep for a long time, it's only 7 in the morning.

"Immediately on a sortie? You won't even train with new people?"

"I've already been trained."

"But when did you get there?"

"At 5 we were already with them in the hangar. Now I went to get my backpack. That's all, until tonight."

"Maybe you can come back at least for lunch?"

"No. We need to clear the area of walkers and look for the source. Alisha and the others came back with nothing. But it's good that she's here. You won't be so bored."

"Troy, can I come with you?"

"No."

"But..."

"I already said. No."

"Why?"

"Because there are only men there. I don't want to take you for a walk where everyone is risking their lives with a crowd of strangers."

"But you're going to leave me here alone all day? You don't know half the people on the ranch, and you're leaving, leaving me here."

Troy thought about it. But after a couple of seconds he answered my argument:

"Jake will be with you."

"I heard you arguing yesterday. Now you're in charge of the ranch and you think everything's okay? Will he leave it like this?"

"He has no choice. The militia is on my side."

"When you leave, the militia will not be here."

I silently turned away from Troy. He started to pack his backpack. My thoughts were filled with anger and a bunch of questions. Now I have a new rhythm of life: to sit and wait for him to return from a sortie, hunting or something else? 

"Dell, please let me prove that I really am the leader of this place. I need your support. I want you to trust me!"

"I trust. But I want you to include me in your plans."

"You're always included in them."

I so wanted at least some kind of note of attention from him. For him to hug me... for example. 

After about 5 minutes, Troy finished packing and headed for the exit. The floor creaked under his feet. At the very door he stopped.

I held my breath in the hope that he would turn around and come to me. "Well, well! Come on!" — flashed through my head. But that didn't happen. Troy left without a word, closing the door behind him. I don't understand why, but I started crying. After a couple of moments, I ran to the window. The gate was clearly visible from it. Troy was already standing there, leaning on the fence, and saying something to the militia. There were two cars parked near the ranch, one was driving away at that moment. While the guys were sitting down, he stood and looked at them. Then he suddenly turned sharply in my direction and made a farewell gesture. There was a smile on his face. I raised my palm in response. I don't know if he noticed it.