Vacant Heart

Chapter Twenty-Two

Mrs. Castillo's grin when I step through the doors is far more exuberant than it should be. Either she's had one too many before dinner or she's just acquired some hot juicy secrets about someone worthwhile in this building.

Still reeling from a day of lingering looks and buzzing mouths, I'm instantly defensive.

I'm taking out a week's worth of mail when she finally wraps around the room, and creeps up on me.

"Any news for me, dear? How'd that new story turn out?"

I chuckle darkly, sorting through the envelopes mindlessly, discovering most of them are Christmas cards. "You forget nothing, do you, Mrs. Castillo?"

"Fit as a fiddle. And there's enough stuff going on here to keep my brain plenty occupied."

I nod, sticking my mail under my arm. "You're right about that."

"So?"

The actual occurrences I could relay to her about Aidan Hughes would blow her mind.

"Nothing of consequence. A dead end...unfortunately."

"Oh, and you missed Christmas for it," she sighs, apologetically. "Your bo came by a few days ago lookin' for ya."

I already knew that. When I plugged my phone into a charger, which took almost an hour to actually start up, I was hit with ding after ding, text message after text message.

Most of them were from him, worrying about why he couldn't reach me.

"Any plans for New Years?"

"Me and my best friend usually go to our company party. I'm not sure what I'm doing though."

"You should go, sweetheart. You're only this young for so long. Sooner or later, you'll become an old bitty like me."

"Oh, please, Mrs. Castillo. You're the bell of the ball in this building, don't you know?"

Her red lipstick is caked on her lips, and every time she talks, it chalks onto her teeth, and her clothes smells of dust and perfume, but to my amusement, she's smug enough to wink, and I envy her confidence.

I take my chance to escape when some other poor soul enters the door, skipping up the steps, wanting more than anything to be locked away in my apartment with no noise, so that maybe, just maybe, I can pretend I'm somewhere else...somewhere secluded in mountains.

However, when I shed my coat and deposit my things, the blaring sounds of ambulances and early fireworks hinder my ability to pretend. I'm not in Leavenworth. Aidan hasn't called.

I am alone and quite possibly on the verge of losing my job.

After the day I've had, I light a cigarette and pour myself a glass of wine and move out onto my balcony. My eyes, scanning the sight of uptown Seattle, the infamous space needle in the near distance, flicker to my visible breath, and I wonder whether I'll ever be able to witness certain things without remembering him.

My fingers are numb by the time I allow myself to go back inside. The feeling reminds me of the promise I made, and instantly, I grab my phone and dial the doctor's office, which is closed. I leave a message, and put the thought aside. For the next hour and a half, I soak in the bath, sitting in my own thoughts. Never in my life have I encouraged silence so much.

I'm changing into a nightgown when there's a knock at the door, soft and timid. I'm momentarily frozen, the possibilities in my brain far too positive for my taste, and shut the drawer, going to receive whoever it is.

It isn't until I've opened the door that I realize I had an immense amount of hope it would be Aidan. It isn't.

"Hi," I say to Bradley, who is definitely coming straight from work. His tie is loosened away from his throat, his hair tugged in many directions. His features are flushed and wind-blown from walking in the winter weather.