Fragments of Us

Chapter Twenty-Two: Eggs

Milo lay sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling as if it held the secrets to the universe. His body felt glued to the mattress, heavy with a sluggishness he couldn’t seem to shake. He’d barely left his room all morning, except for a few half-hearted trips to the kitchen for water, only to retreat back to his safe cocoon. The sunlight streaming through the curtains seemed like an uninvited guest, mocking his lack of productivity.

It had been a week since that dinner with Atlas’ parents. A full seven days, and yet their laughter and warm smiles lingered in his mind. He didn’t like how much he actually missed them—Ali’s cheesy jokes, Sally’s constant motherly concern. They’d been his comfort people once, a kind of second family during those college years when home felt too far and life felt too heavy.

But visiting them now, after five years, was complicated. It was like revisiting a house you used to live in, only to find the furniture rearranged and the walls painted a color you didn’t recognize. Everything felt familiar, but not entirely yours anymore. Ali and Sally were still the same—kind, funny, and loving—but the context had changed. Milo and Atlas weren’t Milo-and-Atlas anymore. That label, that history, was a ghost haunting every interaction.

He sighed deeply, turning over to bury his face in his pillow. The memory of Sally insisting he take home a Tupperware of leftover mashed potatoes tugged at his chest. He’d laughed at the time, but now it just made him feel hollow. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was the ache of knowing how much he’d missed out on by cutting ties so cleanly.

The sound of his phone buzzing broke through his pity party. He groaned, reaching for it lazily and pressing it to his ear without checking the caller ID.

   “What?” he mumbled.

   “Get up, lazy ass!” Lila’s voice snapped through the receiver, sharp and unapologetic. “We need to buy groceries. We’re out of everything, including coffee, and I’m not dealing with you cranky.”

Milo blinked, momentarily stunned by her energy. “Who even needs coffee? Just drink water like a normal person.”

   “You’re impossible,” she shot back. “Get dressed. I’m picking you up in twenty. If you’re not ready, I’m coming in and dragging you out in whatever sad excuse for pajamas you’re wearing.”

He groaned again, but this time there was the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “Fine, fine. Twenty minutes.”

Lila hung up without another word, leaving Milo to stare at his phone. He rubbed his face with both hands, forcing himself to sit up. As much as he wanted to stay cocooned in his room, he knew Lila wasn’t one to bluff. If he didn’t move, she’d be banging on his door, and he didn’t have the energy for that kind of chaos today.

As he shuffled toward the shower, Milo thought about how easy it was for Lila to boss him around. It wasn’t annoying—at least, not entirely. It was comforting in its own way. She was relentless, a force of nature, and sometimes that was exactly what he needed to get out of his head.

By the time he was dressed and ready, he felt a little lighter, though the weight of the week still clung to him. Maybe a trip out into the world—and some groceries—would help clear his mind. Or at the very least, distract him from thoughts of Atlas and the people who still felt like home in all the wrong ways.

Milo rolled his eyes, grabbing his wallet and keys from the bedside table. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

   “Insufferable and responsible,” Lila shot back, leaning against the doorframe as Milo trudged toward her. “You’d be starving if it weren’t for me.”

   “I’d survive,” Milo muttered, though even he didn’t sound convinced. “I could just order delivery.”

“Oh, sure,” Lila said, smirking. “And burn through the grocery budget in two days while eating greasy takeout. Brilliant idea, big brother.”