Sixty-Four

James Sinclair

I stood there, frozen, as the door slammed behind Olivia.

The echo of it reverberated in the silence, and I couldn’t move. My legs felt like lead, rooted to the spot, and I couldn’t bring myself to follow her. Part of me wanted to chase her down, to fix things, but another part of me—something deep and unyielding—held me back. Was it pride? Fear? Hell if I knew. All I knew was that I had screwed up royally, and now, I was left standing alone in the aftermath.

I replayed the moment in my head, the way her face twisted with frustration, the way her voice wavered when she asked me what we were. And what did I say? "Happy." God, what a joke. That wasn’t an answer; that was a cop-out. I knew it the second the word left my mouth, but I couldn’t take it back. I couldn’t bring m……