Happier With You.

Chapter 22

**TRIGGER WARNING**

I slammed the back door behind me, not caring if it echoed through the house. My feet hit the steps before I even realized I was outside, my heart racing faster than my thoughts.

"London, wait!" My mom's voice cut through the cold night air, and I heard the door creak open again.

I didn't stop. I couldn't. Not after everything that just happened.

"London!" Her footsteps grew closer, and then she was in front of me, her hands on my arms, forcing me to face her. "What happened? What's going on?"

I wiped at my face, my cheek still stinging. "Dad hit me."

Her eyes widened, and for a second, she looked as stunned as I felt. "What?"

"He slapped me, Mom," I repeated, my voice shaking now. "He was mad because I-because I snapped at him."

She pulled back, anger flashing across her face. "He did what?"

Before I could say anything more, she whirled around and stormed back toward the house, shouting over her shoulder, "I'm going to deal with this."

"No!" I called after her, grabbing her wrist to stop her. "Mom, I don't care. I just need to go. I need to find Cody."

She hesitated, glancing between me and the house, her expression torn. "London..."

"Please, Mom." I begged. "I can't be here right now."

For a moment, she said nothing, her eyes softening as they scanned my face. Then she nodded. "Okay. Go. But be careful. And if you find Cody-" Her voice caught, "-just make sure he's okay, too."

I didn't wait for anything more. I ran to the car, my mom's voice fading as I sped down the driveway, her anger shifting from me to him.

-

It was almost midnight when i found Cody sitting on the park bench, staring at his hands.

I walked over to him and took a seat.

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The only sound was the distant hum of cars and the wind rustling the trees around us.

"I didn't think you'd come," he muttered, not looking up.

I glanced at him, noticing how tired he looked-the dark circles under his eyes, the slump in his shoulders. "Of course I came."

He shook his head, his hands balling into fists. "I'm so tired of everyone asking if I'm okay. Like... like everything's supposed to just magically be fine."

I swallowed, the sting of his words hitting harder because I knew he was right. "I know. I didn't mean to-"

"I'm not mad at you, London," He interrupted, his voice quieter now, but raw. "It's just-" He let out a shaky breath, "I don't know how much longer I can do this. Every day feels like a fight I'm not sure I can win."

His words hung between us, heavy and real. I didn't know what to say, so I did the only thing that felt right-I reached for his hand. He flinched at first, but then he let me, his fingers trembling in mine.

"You don't have to do it alone," I whispered, squeezing his hand gently. "I'm here. I'm always here."

Finally, he looked at me, his eyes filled with so much pain it made my chest ache. "What if it's not enough?"

"What?" I searched his eyes.

"London what if i die during surgery, or what if i come out fine but i die later.. what if-."