taste | e.d

twenty-two

A hand forces me awake.

"Hey. Kendall?"

"Yeah?"

"You've been sleeping all day."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"You need to take your medicine."

I groan. "Did I miss work?"

"Yes. I called in for you."

"I need to quit that job. She's too nice to fire me."

He moves a strand of hair from my forehead and I shiver, the ghost of a gesture I had felt many times before, from another hand in another world.

"I don't think you should do that. Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"I'll make you pancakes."

"Wait. No, can I have something else?"

He grins a little and says, "All right. Waffles?"

I give him a tiny nod.

Once he leaves the room, I sigh and try to push myself to go back to sleep.

A few minutes in, I decide it's not going to work.

I check my phone for the time, and find Ethan's text in one of the notification bubbles. He made a habit of sending me a rose emoji every morning.

I never answer.

I've tried to get Shannon to tell him to stop, but she keeps telling me that it's his only way to cope.

"But I never say anything back. What's the point?"

"It works for him," she always says. "Trust me."

I get mad whenever she says this. He was the one who walked away from me.

He was the one who sent me to the hospital.

So much of this is his fault and that's not something I'm going to forgive.

He never pulled the trigger. I'll give him that. He didn't kill me.

He saved my life about a year ago. I already thanked him enough for that.

Meanwhile, the only things keeping me from moving on are the daily roses, both virtual and real.

Tuesdays are the days he does things a little differently. He doesn't leave the real rose with the blue ribbon. He leaves the origami rose in the blue box, like he did after I left him those many months ago.

With the way he's acting, I have no clue of when—if—he'll ever move on.

When the door opens, Luca comes through, a tray in his hands.

"Breakfast in bed," he says, grinning. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," I say.

It's difficult for me to express my gratitude when he does sweet things. I have to force a smile as he puts the tray in my lap.