When the Dust Settles

Strange Feelings

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Strange Feelings

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I plucked out my fourth cigarette, the lighter's flame briefly flickering before I lit it. My left hand gripped the steering wheel tightly, the tension in my fingers strong enough to snap the damn thing, holding on as if I could somehow keep everything from falling apart. The pack was nearly gone, but I barely noticed. The windows were down, the cool breeze whipping against my face while the highway stretched on like a bad dream I couldn't shake.

She almost had me. My lips curled into a bitter, narrow grin, a sharp laugh escaping me. What a bitch. She knew. Mia always knew exactly how I'd feel if I saw her again. And damn it, she took full advantage of that. The way she slid into my car, into my life like it was nothing. After all these years, she still knew how to twist the knife.

I didn't even bother giving her key back. With a boiling rage, I picked it up, my hand clenched around it for a second, feeling the weight of the damn thing, then I chucked it out the window. It spun and disappeared behind me, gone just like the way she'd spun out of my life before, and I floored it, letting the car race forward. The speed was intoxicating—I hit ninety, maybe more. I didn't care. The road blurred beneath me, but slowly, I felt my grip loosen. My fingers drummed absently on the wheel as the rage began to ebb.

I kept repeating over and over in my head, like a mantra: There was no way I was going back to her. I wouldn't. I deserved better than that. Better than the shit we used to call love. What I had with her—it ruined me. She ruined me. And if I was going to keep living, it couldn't be in the shadow of what I used to have.

California was supposed to be a new start, a clean slate. But even here, my past kept circling back to bite me in the ass.

But I wouldn't let today break me. I took a long, slow drag of the cigarette, holding the smoke in my lungs until the ache set in. I exhaled, sighing and sinking back into the seat. What I needed now was distance–from Mia, from the past. My mind drifted to Lydia, hoping she'd still be at the apartment. I didn't know why I wanted her there so badly—maybe because after all the bullshit I dealt with today, I just needed something normal, someone steady.

Lydia wasn't Mia. She didn't play those games. I could talk to her, sit on the couch, and let the words spill out until the storm in my head finally quieted. Maybe she'd listen, or maybe we'd just sit in silence, but either way, it'd be better than the chaos Mia always left behind.

I pressed the radio button, letting music fill the car as I drove back towards the apartment. It took another fifteen minutes to reach my complex, and by the time I parked and stepped out, I felt completely drained—physically, mentally. The wind had turned my hair into a mess, and I combed through it, the cool air biting at my skin. Each step I took toward my apartment felt heavy, like the weight of everything I tried to leave behind was pulling me back down.

I didn't know what to expect when I opened that door. Part of me assumed Lydia wouldn't be there. Why would she be? I mean, I'd feel weird staying at her place if she was out meeting some ex or whatever. And maybe I was projecting all of that onto her because of Mia. Still, with every step closer, I held on to a flicker of hope that she'd be inside. Waiting.

But when I unlocked the door and stepped in, the silence hit me like a cold slap. No Lydia. No warmth. Just an empty apartment.

I clicked my tongue, rubbing my hand down my face, muttering "Of course." The door shut behind me, and for a second, I stood still, staring at the space. Something felt... off. It took a moment to actually register, but when I turned back to face the room, I stopped in my tracks.