Chapter 24: Back With The Dread

The sun was low in the sky, casting honeyed streaks of light across the streets of Bellwood by the time Maya was done with her session, then she stepped into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind her, and for the first time in what felt like ages, she exhaled without feeling like the burden of her world was sitting on her lungs.

Her steps imitated what she was feeling currently, her state of mind, her expression and her body movements. You could see it all. 

Inside, she was still a tangle of wounds and with minor doubts, but something in her chest felt… lighter. Like the first deep breath after a tragedy, like the quiet that follows a long, aching cry. Her words were still echoing in her ears—the honesty, the pain, the rawness—but they didn't feel like burdens anymore. They felt like a major release.

Maya dug into her coat pocket, pulled out her phone, and pressed Sienna's name. The phone rang twice before Sienna picked up, her voice bright and familiar.

"Hey, babe. You good?"

Maya smiled softly, something fragile and grateful curling in her belly. "Yeah. I just got out of therapy."

A pause. "And?"

"I feel… better," Maya admitted. "Not fixed. But... lighter. I feel like I was holding my breath for months and finally remembered how to breathe."

There was a rustle on the other end, probably Sienna shifting on their couch at home. "That's good. That's really good."

"Are you home?"

"Just walked in," Sienna said. "I was gonna make something warm—maybe soup? You want me to wait for you?"

Maya looked around, watching the cars slip past, the city humming with quiet life once she got out of the building. She felt her pulse slow in rhythm to it.

"Yeah," she said, her voice gentle. "Wait for me. I'm coming."

A pause again, but this time it was laced with affection.

"You want wine too?" Sienna teased. "We could toast to mental breakthroughs and bitch-ass exes?"

Maya let out a laugh, soft and unburdened. "God, yes." She replied with her signature words.

They hung up, and Maya tucked the phone away, her hand lingering on her chest. There was still so much that was unresolved, so much healing left to do—but for now, this moment was enough.

She turned toward home, her steps a little quicker now, the sky overhead glowing like rose gold, for now, she didn't feel like she was running away from something.

She was walking toward herself.

The late afternoon sun bled gold across the hallway as Maya reached the top of the apartment stairs, a thin film of warmth brushing her cheeks. The old wood of the banister creaked under her touch, familiar and grounding. Her purse hung lightly at her side, her boots tapping gently against the tiles. She hadn't expected anything more from this day than soup, Sienna, and maybe an early night tucked under their softest throw blanket.

But as she approached their apartment door, her steps halted.

There, resting neatly on the welcome mat, was a book.

Worn around the edges, the spine curved in that way books only ever bend when they've been held with care and thumbed through a hundred times.. She caught her breath, the world narrowing in an instant. She didn't need to pick it up to recognize the cover — the faded, ocean-blue print of her favorite novel. The one she reread every fall. The one she used to tell Logan made her believe in second chances, even when she didn't believe in much else.

Kneeling down, her fingers trembled as she lifted it, brushing off a faint speck of dust. Her heart thudded against her ribs, loud and insistent.

The first page fluttered open as if coaxed by memory itself — and there, in Logan's unmistakable scrawl, was a note. Not just a note—annotations. Dozens. Passages underlined in dark pen, thoughts scrawled in the margins, circled phrases, question marks, hearts.

She flipped through, her breath catching at every scribbled thought, every quiet confession he'd left in ink. It was like walking through his heart with bare feet.

And then, at the very end—just before the last page, where the story found its peace—Logan's final words waited for her like a whisper from somewhere far away and yet achingly close.

"You taught me how to feel. That was always the danger."

Her hands shook. Her eyes stung. She turned her gaze sharply scanning the quiet hallway, the stairwell, the corners and shadows, searching for a presence she wasn't ready for and yet desperately craved.

"Logan?" she whispered, with a raw voice.

But no one answered.

The corridor remained still and empty.

Her breath hitched, and she clutched the book to her chest like it was something breakable. Her knees felt weak, not with fear—but with longing. That cruel, beautiful ache that only ever came with love.

Behind her, she heard the door to the apartment creak open, Sienna's voice light and curious.

"Maya? You okay?"

Maya didn't turn right away. She couldn't.

Because in her arms, she wasn't just holding a book.

She was holding a memory that felt like worth a message.

A memory of what they were.

And maybe this was the first sign that he wasn't gone after all.

Sienna leaned against the doorway, her hair pulled into a loose bun, a cup of tea still steaming in her hand. The second she saw Maya's face — the glint in her eyes that shimmered too close to tears, the way she clutched the book to her chest like it was a life raft — her casual tone faded.

"What's that?" Sienna asked gently, stepping closer.

Maya swallowed hard, then turned the book around slowly, revealing the cover like a secret she'd been holding close. "It's The Last Light in Autumn." Logan... he left it. I found it on the doorstep."

Sienna's brows drew together. "Wait—Logan left that? Are you sure?"

Maya nodded, her thumb brushing the corner of a folded page. "His handwriting's all over it. He annotated the whole thing... all my favorite passages. He remembered everything, Sienna. Things I didn't even think he was paying attention to."

Sienna took a careful breath and stepped beside her. "What did he say?"

Maya opened the book again, her fingers finding the final page with the ease of someone who had already reread it five times in a single moment.

"You taught me how to feel. That was always the danger."

Sienna stared at the words. Her lips parted like she might say something, but instead, she reached out and wrapped an arm around Maya's shoulder.

"Damn," she said softly. "He really dropped a whole novel love letter on your doorstep."

Maya laughed, barely, broken at the edges. "I don't know what it means. I don't know if it's a goodbye or... another beginning."

Sienna gave her a squeeze. "Whatever it is... it means he's not gone. Not fully. And maybe he's trying to find his way back."

Maya blinked hard, the weight of the book pressing into her ribs. "What if I'm not ready? What if I want him to find me but I'm still learning how to stand?"

Sienna smiled, brushing a lock of hair from Maya's cheek. "Then let him find you where you are, even if you aren't perfect as a person, and even if you aren't whole as a cucumber. Let him meet your honest self."