Happier With You | ✓

Chapter 13

Cody's pov

My day was going great until the argument started. Loud annoying, and exhausting., just like every other one.

"I'm not hungry." I mumbled, turning my head away from the smell of spaghetti drifting from the kitchen. It made my stomach twist.

"You haven't eaten all day, Cody." My mom snapped from the hallway. "You want to get sicker? Is that it?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. It felt like every word I said became fuel for another explosion. Instead, I laid back on my bed, the light from my phone casting weird shadows on the ceiling as I scrolled through Instagram.

Every post felt like a punch to the gut.

Photos of people hanging out at the beach, laughing at bonfires, going to concerts. Friends hugging in group photos, people I used to talk to tagging each other in inside jokes I wasn't part of anymore. I kept scrolling-vacation selfies, matching outfits, birthday dinners, movie nights.

All of it screamed normal. And none of it felt like mine.

I blinked hard and kept scrolling.

The smell of garlic bread got stronger. I turned my head toward the wall. My stomach rolled again.

Then I saw it. A post from Mrs. Patel, Ruth's mom. She'd passed away a month ago-only twelve years old. The caption was long, raw, typed out like she couldn't stop herself even if she tried:

"Ruth was only 12 years old. Gone too soon. Everyone says it was her time, that at least she's not in pain anymore. But I want her here with me. They say she's in heaven now, with God... but why would God let my baby girl suffer like that?"

I stared at the photo of Ruth's bright smile, frozen in time, and something inside me snapped.

The phone slipped out of my hand and hit the edge of the bed. Hard. It bounced and clattered to the floor.

A beat of silence.

"Cody Taylor, are you serious right now?"

I flinched.

My mom appeared in the doorway, hands on her hips, eyes blazing. "If that phone is cracked, you better hope your rich best friend Ryan will pay for a new one. We have enough to deal with without you throwing stuff around like a five-year-old."

I didn't answer. I couldn't even look at her.

She sighed sharply. "Get up. Pick up your phone and go take a walk. You need air. Dinner will be done in thirty minutes."

I sat there for a second, still staring at the wall.

"I said get up. You can't rot away. You need fresh air."

I stood, grabbed my phone-thankfully not broken-and left without a word.

Outside, the air was cooler than I expected. It hit my skin like a slap, but at least it didn't smell like garlic or sickness or hospitals. I shoved my hands in my hoodie pocket and started walking.

-

LONDON.

I turned the key in the car to start it, but something didn't feel right.

"I can't do this." I mumbled to myself.

Sage needed me, but I needed someone else too.

As my fingers brushed the gas pedal, I saw a vision of the car accident replaying in my mind. This was the first time I was driving since that night.

I closed my eyes. "God, I really need you right now. My friend needs me, and I just need the strength to do this. Please, Lord, give me the strength," I prayed.