This isn't weird.

Mr. Roboto

It was close to midnight—or perhaps significantly after. Millie would know if she had her phone, but she didn't. All she had was the deafening silence of the house all around her and a pesky inability to quiet her mind long enough to fall asleep. She'd come so close to dozing off some hours ago, but then, out of nowhere, it had hit her. The realization was absurdly random; she hadn't been thinking of anything remotely related to the subject, but it came to her, nevertheless, and stole away her chances of a full night's sleep.

Tomorrow was Ben's birthday.

It was his birthday, and she wouldn't be there.

The emotional impact of this epiphany was difficult to make sense of. Guilt was the most readily identifiable aspect, of course—she was more intimately acquainted with the feeling now than she had ever been in her life. And what was this other feeling? Ah, that was it—obligation. Because if there was ever a day she was obligated to make contact, this was it, wasn't it? Surely, it would hurt his feelings worse still to go through his entire birthday without her so much as acknowledging it—this time last year, she'd been so excited to make the day special for him. But maybe calling him was the cruelest thing she could do. Maybe her fears that he was completely and totally done with her bullshit really were true, and reaching out was liable to reopen the wound and ruin his birthday entirely.

It was a decision that could, and should, wait until morning, she decided, and put it out of mind—or at least she tried to. No matter how hard she tried to will it away, though, the thought kept coming back to her. She found herself wondering who he would be celebrating the day with, and felt a hypocritical pang of jealousy.

God, she needed a distraction. But she hadn't had the foresight to bring a book to bed with her tonight. Now, it seemed too late. The library was only one door down from her room, but stepping foot out into the hallway at this hour felt as if it would break an unspoken curfew. It was so absurd—what was she afraid of? Getting grounded? Having her phone taken away? She was already housebound and divested of her cellphone.

God, she really needed to work up the courage to ask for her things back.

But then what? Who would she call if she could? Her current situation was too bizarre to explain to anyone, especially given that she didn't know when it would be over. Hi, Ben! Happy birthday! Sorry about the whole ghosting thing! How's it going? Oh, I'm just staying out at my ex's mansion. Sorry, no, I'm gonna keep hanging out here for a while. I'm not sure how long. I'm waiting for him to get back from vacation so we can talk about how he's still in love with me.

The conversation didn't sound like it would go much better with Molly or Walt. She could talk to Paul, maybe. He was the only one who knew where she was, and he was surely eager for an update. But she didn't have an update. What was there to tell him when she hadn't even spoken to Noah yet? It was pointless. None of them felt real, anyway. Nothing outside of this house did.

Maybe she was desperate enough for a distraction to break her imaginary curfew after all.

Millie slipped out of bed and to the door, turning the knob as gingerly as she could, but pushing it open sent a shrill creak echoing down the hall. She winced, waiting for someone to come and scold her, but all remained quiet. You're being ridiculous, she thought, then shook her head and tiptoed toward the library. To her great relief, this door had been left open. At least she could sneak in and out without any more screeching hinges. Holding her breath, she did just that, pilfering a book she'd left half-read on the desk so swiftly that she didn't even exhale until she was back in her room. As she reached out to close the door, though, she hesitated. It was bound to creak again when she pulled it shut. No matter how irrational she knew she was being, she couldn't bring herself to face the possibility. She left it open and climbed back into bed.