Before His Wedding, the Good Girl He Used Quietly Vanished Chapter 09

Before His Wedding, the Good Girl He Used Quietly Vanished Chapter 09

Winter came early to Bellwether City.

By the end of November, the sycamores outside my window were bare.

I went to campus Monday through Friday.

The local accent took some getting used to, but I could follow most conversations.

My roommate Tessa Monroe laughed. “Even the way you talk is polite. Like, aggressively polite.”

Apparently, that reputation was going to follow me everywhere.

On weekends, Tessa and I hit the farmers’ market.

I always bought tangerines. One bag, six bucks, lasted me four days.

“Why do you only ever get tangerines?” Tessa asked.

“I’m used to it,” I said.

“Used to what?”

“Used to not being picky.”

She looked at me for a second, and let it go.

My days had a quiet shape.

Up at eight. Oatmeal or toast.

Out by nine thirty.

Lectures ended at noon. Lunch in the cafeteria.

Afternoons at the library, or walking along Bellwether River.

Evenings, I made pasta and sat with my elderly neighbor downstairs. We’d share a pot of chamomile tea.

She didn’t talk much. Neither did I.

Some nights she hummed for hours. I couldn’t understand the words, but the melodies felt warm.

Mom called on a Tuesday.

“Willa, how are you doing out there?”

“I’m good, Mom. It’s been two months of classes now.”

She went quiet for a moment.

“That boy… Everett. He’s been coming by the house.”

I walked to the window, my phone pressed to my ear.

“He keeps asking your dad where you are. Your dad told him he doesn’t know.”

“Okay.”

“Willa, he…”

“He says he knows he messed up. He shows up with all these gifts, but your dad won’t let him in, so

he just stands out there. For hours, sometimes.”

Mom sighed. “Willa, maybe you should… reach out? He looks like he’s falling apart.”

“He used to be so put together. Now he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.”

I took a sip of my tea.

“Mom,” I said, “he just hasn’t figured it out yet.”

“Figured out what?”

“He’s used to someone being home when he walks in. Someone making his coffee. A girl who’s easy

to keep in line.” I paused. “He doesn’t miss me. He misses the convenience. Any girl would do.”

“Once he gets over it, he’ll just find another girl to do the same thing to.”

Mom didn’t say anything for a long time.

“Willa, are you really…”

“Mom, if he comes again, don’t tell me. I’ve got exams coming up. This semester’s hard enough.”

I hung up and set my phone on the table.

I finished the last of my tea.

Across the street, the snow had melted off the rooftops, leaving the shingles pale and bare.

This was fine.

I said it again in my head.

This was fine.

Two more weeks passed.

One day after class, Tessa held her phone out to me.

“Do you know this guy?”

A photo on the screen. A man standing outside an apartment building, looking up.

Black coat, no hat. The streetlight caught the back of his head.

“Who sent you this?”

“A friend of mine. She lives on Wrenford Lane in North Bellwether. Says some guy’s been hanging around outside one of the buildings. Number 88.” She looked at me. “That’s your building, isn’t it?”

I stared at the photo.

He’d lost weight.

His jaw was sharper.

“You know him?” Tessa asked.

“I do.” I handed her phone back. “Just ignore him.”

But the next night, I took the trash out, and there he was, standing at the end of the alley.