Chapter 14 lexie
I paced the main room of the safe house, my boots whispering against the worn wooden floor as I moved back and forth, back and forth, like I could somehow walk away from the knot tightening in my chest. The room wasn’t small, but it felt that way now—crowded with worry, with waiting, with the kind of silence that presses in on your ears until every thought sounds too loud. Destiny sat at the table, watching me with a mixture of patience and mild annoyance, her fingers drumming lightly against the surface. She had been calm through worse situations than this—through battles, ambushes, betrayals—but even she couldn’t completely hide the flicker of concern in her eyes. “Calm down,” she said, her voice steady, grounded, like she was trying to anchor me in place. I stopped for half a second, just long enough to glance at her, then started pacing again. “It’s been too long,” I said, my voice tight. “It’s been a month,” Destiny replied, leaning back in her chair like that settled it. “Actually, it’s been three,” Mimsy chimed in from the couch. I froze mid-step and turned to look at them both. “Three?” I repeated, the word feeling heavier than it should. Mimsy gave a small shrug, her expression softer than usual. “Three months,” she confirmed gently. The air seemed to shift around me. Three months. Three months since he left. Three months since I last saw him, last heard his voice, last felt the warmth of his presence beside me. I sank down into the chair across from Destiny, running a hand through my hair as I tried to steady my breathing. “It doesn’t feel like that long,” I muttered. “That’s because you haven’t stopped thinking about it,” Destiny said, not unkindly. I let out a quiet breath, staring down at my hands. She wasn’t wrong. Every day had been filled with the same thoughts, the same questions, the same fear that I refused to fully acknowledge. I pushed myself back to my feet before the silence could swallow me again and walked to the window. The glass was cool against my fingertips as I looked out at the empty road beyond the safe house. The world outside was quiet—too quiet. No movement, no sign of life, no indication that anything had changed. “What if he didn’t make it?” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. The room went still behind me. “He will,” Destiny said firmly. I turned my head slightly, enough to see her out of the corner of my eye. She was watching me closely now, her expression sharper, more serious. “He will be here when he can,” she added. I nodded slowly, though the doubt didn’t ease. “He better be,” I said, trying to force a hint of confidence into my voice. Destiny let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You act like he has a choice.” I didn’t respond to that. Instead, I turned my attention back to the window, scanning the horizon again like something might suddenly appear if I looked hard enough. Behind me, I heard the soft shift of fabric as Mimsy stood. A moment later, she was beside me, her hand warm and gentle as it rested against my back. The simple touch grounded me more than I expected. “He’ll make it,” she said softly. I closed my eyes for a second, letting her words settle in. “I know,” I murmured, though it came out quieter than I intended. But the truth was, I didn’t know. Not really. Every day that passed made the uncertainty grow. Every night made it worse. I would lie awake staring at the ceiling, replaying the last moment I saw him over and over again—his expression, the way his voice sounded when he told me he’d be back, the way I had wanted to believe him without question. I turned away from the window and walked back toward the center of the room, slower this time. The pacing had lost its urgency, replaced by a heavy, lingering tension. “What if something happened?” I asked, looking between them. “What if he’s hurt? Or worse—” “He’s not,” Destiny cut in, her voice sharper now. “Don’t do that.” I frowned slightly. “Do what?” “Spiral,” she said. “You’re making it worse in your head.” I crossed my arms, leaning against the edge of the table. “I’m being realistic.” “You’re being anxious,” she corrected. Mimsy gave a small nod in agreement. “There’s a difference.” I let out a quiet sigh, rubbing my temple. “Easy for you two to say.” “No, it’s not,” Destiny said, her tone softening. “We care about him too.” That made me pause. “I know,” I said after a moment. And I did. This wasn’t just my worry. It just felt heavier on me, sharper somehow, like every second of waiting carved deeper into my chest. I moved back to the window again, drawn to it like I couldn’t help myself. The sky had shifted slightly, the light changing as the day stretched on. Time was passing whether I wanted it to or not. “I just…” I hesitated, searching for the right words. “I hate not knowing.” Mimsy stepped closer again, her presence quiet but steady. “That’s the hardest part,” she said. I nodded faintly. Not knowing if he was safe. Not knowing if he was coming back. Not knowing if the last time I saw him was really the last. My chest tightened at the thought, and I pushed it away before it could take hold. “He said he’d come back,” I said, more to myself than to them. “And he will,” Destiny replied without hesitation. I glanced back at her. “You sound pretty sure.” “I am,” she said simply. “Why?” I asked. She held my gaze for a moment before answering. “Because he wouldn’t leave you like that.” The words hit harder than I expected. I looked away quickly, back out the window, blinking against the sudden sting in my eyes. Mimsy’s hand returned to my back, slow and reassuring. “She’s right,” she said. “You know she is.” I swallowed, my throat tight. “Yeah,” I whispered. Silence settled over the room again, but this time it wasn’t as heavy. It felt… steadier. Like something was holding it together, even if just barely. Minutes passed. Maybe longer. I lost track of time as I stared out at the empty road, my thoughts drifting in and out of memories. Then— Movement. My breath caught. At first, I thought I imagined it. Just a trick of the light, or my mind playing games with me after staring too long. But then I saw it again. A figure in the distance. I straightened immediately, pressing closer to the window. “Wait—” Destiny was on her feet in an instant. “What?” “There’s someone,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Mimsy moved to my other side, peering out. “Are you sure?” I didn’t answer right away. I couldn’t. Because the figure was getting closer. Step by step. My heart started pounding, loud enough that I could hear it in my ears. “Is it—” Mimsy began. “I don’t know,” I said quickly, though my voice trembled. Destiny narrowed her eyes, focusing. “Stay back,” she said automatically, though she didn’t move away either. We stood there, all three of us, watching as the figure came closer into view. Closer. Closer. And then— I saw him. My breath left me in a rush. “It’s him,” I said, the words breaking free before I could stop them. Before either of them could respond, I was already moving. I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate. I ran. Out the door, down the steps, across the open space between the safe house and the road. My feet barely seemed to touch the ground, my heart racing faster with every step. He stopped when he saw me coming, like he hadn’t expected it. For a split second, everything slowed. And then I crashed into him. My arms wrapped around him tightly, like if I let go, he might disappear again. He staggered slightly from the force but caught me easily, his arms coming around me just as tight. “You’re here,” I breathed, my voice shaking. “I’m here,” he replied softly. I pulled back just enough to look at him, my hands gripping his jacket like I needed proof he was real. “You took too long,” I said, though it came out more emotional than angry. A faint smile touched his lips. “I know.” I shook my head, a breathless laugh escaping me. “Three months.” “I’m sorry,” he said. I studied his face, taking in every detail—the exhaustion, the faint marks of whatever he had been through, but most importantly, the fact that he was here. “You’re okay?” I asked quietly. “I am now,” he said. Something in my chest finally loosened. I let out a slow breath and pulled him into another hug, resting my forehead against his shoulder. Behind us, I could hear the door open, footsteps approaching, but in that moment, none of it mattered. He was here. And for the first time in months, the waiting was over.