Vacant Heart

Chapter Thirty-Two

"Jo."

The room is still dark. The curtains are still drawn, probably to preserve the aspect of night. I'm positive it's early, but way past dawn considering the traces of light between the fabrics are so desperately trying to seep in through them.

Aidan is seated beside my legs on the edge of the bed, freshly showered and dressed. His clothing is different which means he's been up long enough that he went to his car to retrieve his things. Realizing his coat is already on his back, I pull my aching arm out from beneath my head, blinking in surprise.

"You're going?"

His gaze is soft. "Yes."

This can't be good.

I want to ask him whether I should be scared, whether I should be preparing for something that hasn't come yet. Pressing my lips together resignedly, I begin to sit up, uncomfortably.

"It's still early. You don't have to get up."

"I'll walk you to the door," I say, planting my feet onto the ground. He towers beside me, and walks with graceful strides to retrieve his bag from the chair in the corner.

"I spoke to Mel this morning," he says, his mention of Nora's father brings back the confessions he spoke of his morbid past like a tidal wave. "Told him the name of the officer, and what precinct he's in. He said he'll handle it."

Pushing my tangled mane of knots away from my face, I watch his movements, which are calm and calculated. He's not rushing out of here. I wonder how long he's been awake...if he even slept.

Usually, I forget my nightmares by morning, but I feel the effects of the dream today, impending doom clinging to my skin. The fact that he's leaving doesn't do much to entice positivity, although I'm trying. At the sight of breakfast made, laid out across the counter for me, I don't know whether to smile with relief or be nervous that he's leaving everything here so organized, so in order.

Possibly it's because he knows he turned my life upside down. It may be that he knows leaving at the crack of dawn doesn't inspire trust in this. I know all about sneaking out at daybreak. I've perfected the getaway over the years. It's not pleasant to be on the other end, and that makes my mouth dry with the thought of Bradley, and what I've done to him over the years.

As much as he's calm, his eyes momentarily linger on the remaining ashes in the fireplace, showing me without words that he's leaving to deal with more than I can possibly know. Last night was a feat, a giant leap.

I shouldn't be frightened, not after his confession...but I am.

I'm moments out of sleep, and I'm terrified.

He places his leather bag strap onto his shoulder, watching me carefully as I lean my back into the open door frame, the hallway eerily empty so early in the morning.

"Are we okay?" I ask, catching him off guard. He should know by now that I'm not one for inaction. Last night, he told me I am all he has, and yet, he's leaving, leaving to get away. Maybe the light of day changed his mind. Maybe he soaked in his circumstances overnight and it's distanced him. Either way, I need to know if this is it.

"What do you mean?"

He knows exactly what I mean. The small smile he gives me proves that.

I try again, more frank. "Well, forgive me, but it was a shitty day yesterday, and a draining night...and you're leaving before the sun's even begun to hit the buildings, so..."

"I can't think around you," he divulges, carefully.

"What is there to think about?" I lean off my hip, my brows furrowing with suspicion. At the sight of my increasing discomfort at the way this conversation is going, his face seems to fall and he shakes his head, walking up to where I am. He slides his hands over my hair and around my cheeks.