Between the desks

Chapter 80

Amren's POV

The moment I crossed the threshold of my apartment—well, technically rolled—I let out a deep, relieved sigh. It felt like an eternity since I'd been here, but as I looked around, everything seemed exactly the same. My furniture was still in the same places, the colors of my walls as familiar as ever, but there was something different. It was cleaner. Much cleaner.

"Have you been cleaning?" I asked, turning my head to give Lily a questioning look. She was pushing the wheelchair, but her casual side-eye told me she didn't even think twice about it.

"Girl, your place was gross," she said bluntly.

I snorted, trying not to laugh too hard because it still hurt. "You're just way too clean," I shot back, shaking my head. Lily grinned at me, that teasing, knowing grin she always wore when she had done something for my own good, even if I wouldn't admit it.

I looked around again, this time paying more attention. I did miss this—my space. The scent of my freshly cleaned apartment hit me. It smelled like lavender and something else, maybe lemon. My bed looked so inviting, the sheets perfectly washed and folded, the blankets fluffed up just right. It almost felt surreal, like I had been gone for months, not just two weeks. Those two weeks had stretched out like an eternity, though. I never thought I'd miss something as simple as walking into my own apartment.

As I sat there, soaking in the comfort of being home, my phone buzzed. I glanced down, expecting it to be a message from Lily or some hospital follow-up, but instead, it was a text from someone called Lizzie. I blinked at the screen. Who the hell was Lizzie? I didn't know anyone by that name.

Lizzie: Hi Amren, Lily told me you were going home today. How are you now? Please let me know how everything goes.

My brain worked overtime trying to figure out who this mysterious Lizzie could be. My head still ached from all the healing, and now, from the mental gymnastics of trying to place this person. I didn't know a Lizzie.

Me: Who is this? How did you get my number?

I stared at the message for a moment, waiting. Was this some hacker trying to mess with me? I had enough problems without dealing with random people popping up in my life.

After what felt like a long pause, my phone buzzed again.

Lizzie: Amren, this is Professor Olsen. I put your number in my phone after I called Lily the other day.

I exhaled a long breath, and with it, the tension I hadn't realized I was holding in. Of course it was her. Who else could it be? She had introduced herself as Elizabeth at that wedding, and now she was texting me like a regular person. I felt the wave of my own stupidity hit me.

Me: Well, hello there, professor. Bit creepy to put your number in my phone without telling me, don't you think?

I laughed at my own response. This was turning out to be one of those days where my sarcasm came naturally, where the weight of the last two weeks wasn't so heavy on my shoulders. My fingers still hurt from texting, but that didn't stop me.

"Earth to the trucker!" Lily's voice snapped me back to reality.

"Huh?" I mumbled, looking up from my phone.

"I said," she repeated, with exaggerated patience, "do you want a bagel? I'm heading to the place around the corner."

I blinked, realizing she'd been waiting on me. "Yes! Salmon and avocado, please," I said, adding a baby voice for dramatic effect, knowing full well how much it annoyed her.

Lily rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. "I'll be right back," she said, giving me a mock salute before heading out the door. I yelled after her, "Love you too!" and heard the slam of the door in response. I chuckled to myself.

My phone lit up again. Lizzie—well, Professor Olsen—had responded.

Lizzie: Well, if you want me to delete it, just say the word.

Me: No, don't do that. It's fine.

Lizzie: How are you?

Me: I'm good for someone who hit a truck. Lily's getting me a bagel.

Lizzie: That sounds delicious! Do you need help with anything?

I paused for a moment before typing my reply, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

Me: Actually, tomorrow night, I'm feeling kinda alone. Wanna come over?

I held my breath for a second, not sure how she would respond. But then, my phone buzzed.

Lizzie: Sounds good, Amren. I'll be there.

Me: Great! Do you also know my address already?

Lizzie: You're pretty funny today, aren't you?

Me: I'm pretty and I'm funny, yes!

Lizzie: Well, send me your address anyway. I'll see you tomorrow.

Me: I will! Bye, professor!

I stared at the screen for a few seconds, smiling. It felt good, this banter, this ease between us. I wasn't sure what it meant—where we stood—but I liked it. More than I wanted to admit.

Lily came bursting back through the door, bagels in hand, and before I knew it, I was devouring mine like I hadn't eaten in days. She snorted at my eagerness, watching as I took another massive bite. "You're gonna choke, you know."

I grinned at her with my mouth full. "Worth it," I mumbled, enjoying the familiar warmth of food that didn't come from the hospital.

Later that night, around 10 p.m., we decided to call it a day. Lily helped me into bed—well, more like wrestled me into bed, considering my cast and general clumsiness—and then snuggled up beside me like she always did. Her presence was comforting, like a security blanket I hadn't realized I needed.

As I lay there, her arms wrapped around me protectively, I felt something I hadn't felt in two weeks—peace. Real, honest peace. My eyes grew heavy, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I fell asleep without pain, without fear. Just the quiet knowledge that I was home, surrounded by people who cared about me.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow, Professor Olsen—Lizzie—would come over. And maybe, just maybe, I'd figure out where we stood too.