Afterlight (Fanfiction) ✓

chapter twenty-nine

Chloe

     THE hotel room was suffocating, the air thick with unspoken tension. Brad's snoring rattled through the dimly lit space, each rumble scraping at my patience like nails on glass. I had endured it for half an hour, but it wasn't just the sound that drove me mad—it was everything. The room, the situation, the unbearable weight of his presence after the chaos of Stratford. I didn't want to be here, didn't want to be dragged back to California, back to the ghosts of my past. This was supposed to be my fresh start, and yet here I was, teetering on the edge of a choice I wasn't ready to make.

I turned to the bedside table, the digital clock casting its cold, unfeeling glow: 1:26 a.m. The perfect hour for escape. Quietly, I shifted beneath the sheets, peeling them back inch by inch. Every move felt like a gamble, every rustle of fabric like the crack of thunder in the silence. My heart pounded as I carefully slid out of bed, my feet brushing the carpet as lightly as I could manage. Brad's snoring continued, steady and loud, a small mercy in this tense game of stealth.

The room was dark, save for the faint golden glow of the hallway light seeping in from beneath the door. I fumbled blindly, my hands reaching out until I found my duffle bag slumped near the foot of the bed. It was heavy and soft under my touch, its zipper cold against my fingers. Slowly, carefully, I pulled it open. My breath hitched when the zipper made a faint metallic rasp, but Brad didn't stir. Thank God.

I searched the bag by feel, my fingers brushing against the worn fabric of sweatpants. I pulled them out and slipped them on, the motion awkward and slow in the dim room. Next, my hand found the familiar texture of Justin's sweatshirt. My chest ached as I lifted it from the bag, the faint scent of his cologne still lingering in the fabric. Pulling it over my head, I let the scent wash over me, grounding me. It felt like armor—warm, protective, and his.

I found my boots next, clutching them awkwardly in one hand. My other hand reached out for balance, brushing against the bedside table. There, beneath the soft glow of the alarm clock, was a pile of quarters. Perfect. One by one, I carefully plucked them up, the cool metal pressing into my palm as I slid them into my pocket.

The hardest part was yet to come. My eyes darted to Brad, his silhouette dimly visible beneath the covers. I tiptoed to the door, each step a calculated risk. My fingers found the doorknob, and I gripped it tightly, twisting it with painstaking care. The door creaked faintly as it opened, and I froze, holding my breath.

Still snoring.

Relief swept through me as I stepped into the hallway, gently easing the door shut behind me. For a moment, I stood there, my heart pounding in my chest. I pressed my ear to the door, waiting for any sign of movement from inside. Silence. A shaky breath escaped me.

I bit my nails nervously as I padded down the hallway, the worn carpet muffling my footsteps. The elevator was just ahead, its metal doors gleaming under the soft fluorescent lights. My finger hovered over the button before I pressed it, the soft chime of the elevator arriving breaking the stillness. The doors slid open, and I stepped inside, glancing back at the hallway one last time. What would I do if Brad came charging after me?

The elevator began its descent, the soft hum of the machinery filling the air. With each floor that passed, I counted silently to myself.

Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

Lobby.

The doors opened, and a rush of freedom hit me. The sterile air of the lobby felt electric as I hurried out, my eyes scanning for a payphone. There it was, right in front of me, waiting like a beacon. My hands trembled as I grabbed the receiver, my fingers digging into my pocket for the quarters. They clinked as I fed them into the slot, the sound echoing in my ears like a promise.