Evermore - Cheradine

Chapter 28

After breakfast with Kimberley, I went to Cheryl's room to see if she was back. I knocked, but when there was no answer, I let myself in. I needed to talk to her about Kimberley knowing about us. Honestly, I was relieved. If it were up to me, both Kimberley and Nicola would've known ages ago. It meant I had someone else to confide in, someone close to both of us who could offer a different perspective. It also reassured me that Cheryl wasn't ashamed of us, a fear I'd secretly harbored since she'd never seemed eager to tell anyone.

Even with that sense of relief, I couldn't shake the wish that Cheryl had told me Kimberley knew. Being kept out of the loop didn't sit well with me. I felt foolish thinking back on all the times I'd pretended we were just friends around Kimberley, not realising she already knew the truth. It was like I'd been performing in a play, oblivious that the audience had already read the script.

I lay in bed, waiting for Cheryl to return, tangled in the soft sheets as the low hum of the television blended with the ticking clock. Restlessness gnawed at me, a persistent ache I couldn't shake. I shifted, trying to get comfortable, but my eyes kept flicking to the door, hoping Cheryl would walk in and ease the emptiness that grew with each passing minute.

But the door stayed closed, and time seemed to stretch on endlessly. With each passing minute, my thoughts spiraled further. Cheryl had been gone for a while, and the lack of even a simple text started to weigh on me. She could be so absentminded, losing herself in the moment and letting everything else slip away.

I was on the verge of dozing off when the door creaked open, jolting me awake. My heart leaped as I shot up in bed. Cheryl stepped inside, moving with her usual grace, unhurried, seemingly unaware of the turmoil her absence had stirred in me. She closed the door quietly behind her.

"Where were you?" The words came out sharper than I meant them to.

Cheryl's eyebrow arched. "Good morning to you too," she replied, lacing her words with gentle sarcasm.

I glanced at the clock. "It's past morning. Where were you?" I repeated, trying to keep my tone even, but the impatience crept in.

"I went jogging with Nicola," Cheryl said, stepping further into the room. "Didn't you see the note? I left it right next to you on the bed." Her eyes scanned the bed as she moved toward it, searching for the crumpled piece of paper she'd left behind.

I watched her for a moment, noticing how her brow furrowed in concentration as she searched the sheets for the note.

"I saw it," I said, trying to keep my frustration in check. Cheryl glanced up, her gaze questioning. "But you weren't jogging the whole time, were you?"

"No," she admitted, her voice steady, her fingers lightly gripping the edge of the sheets. "We grabbed breakfast after, then Nicola wanted to hit a bookstore." She paused, meeting my eyes. "Is that a problem?"

"I just wish you'd called or something," I said, trying to keep my tone even. "I've been here all morning, wondering where you were."

"I didn't think it was a big deal," she replied, almost apologetically. "It was just a run, some breakfast, a little time out with Nicola. I didn't realise you'd be... waiting."

"It's not that," I murmured, my voice softening as I started to calm down. "I was just worried. You were gone longer than I thought, and I didn't hear from you."

"I'm sorry, babe." She moved closer, kneeling beside me. "I'm a bit scatterbrained sometimes," she admitted, her hand resting gently on the mattress as her eyes met mine, brimming with regret and that effortless charm. "Can you forgive us?" Her wide, pleading puppy eyes were almost unfair.