Chapter Twenty-Six

Isat in the back seat, watching the familiar highway twisting up ahead. Alice loved to drive that road, just drive, for hours on end. And I loved when she took me with her, sweet treats for us on the dashboard, rock music playing in the background. I could almost hear her voice as she sang out of tune.

This time Brian was driving. It was a different car, a different smell, different people. We were driving to the one place I thought Alice should be. Her parent's house.

I pushed my sneakers off and pulled my feet up to the seat. The snow was melting, gray patches showed the dirt. A lead sky seemed to crush the earth.

"You know, the three of us were a couple for some time," I said.

Miranda's hand stilled as she was brushing a lock from her forehead. She turned to me.

"They were brother and sister, even though Jake was adopted," she said slowly. "Didn't you think it was a bit gross?"

"Did the three of you sleep together?" Brian asked, old humor in his voice. Hilarious.

"God, no," I said, disgusted. "They would never do that. It was separate. I was his girlfriend and hers, they never crossed over. Jake believed that I was polyamorous, that I could divide time between them, to create two separate relationships."

"It didn't work, did it?" Miranda asked.

"No." I shook my head. "I was just falling in love with Alice while dating him. He believed we could make it. Alice struggled from the start but agreed to try because Jake loved me. And I just couldn't, you know. I couldn't."

"He just didn't want to lose you," Brian said.

"But ... but that sharing concept was sick," Miranda turned to me.

I looked out of the window. I remembered three of us dressed fancily, sitting at the table, happy.

"You know, it wasn't. There were never any disgusting moments between the three of us, I just couldn't navigate it. I always ended up in her room, in her arms. Subconsciously delaying the moment I would need to break his heart. And I think I broke everything in the end," I said.

"Did Alice love you back?" Miranda asked.

Before I could reply, Brian said: "She did."

I pressed my trembling fingers to my lips as I looked out of the window. "She did," I replied.

The drive took hours, the daylight was already fading when we reached the small suburban city. The houses were bigger there, freshly painted, mostly new cars stood in the driveways. When we stopped I looked around, my eyes going wide.

"This is it," Brian said, checking the address.

We stood by a huge two-story house, a circular driveway leading to its door. It had a garage on the right, closed, a black BMW crossover was parked by the garage door.

"Wow," Miranda whispered. "Are they rich?"

I didn't know, I didn't know a lot about their family.

Brian looked through the window of the house. "The family always had money, it seems they did well with investing."

I spent only a moment imagining Alice and Jake in that house, which slightly resembled a palace. One thought pumped through my mind: there was no yellow car. It's in the garage, it must be.

With trembling fingers I opened the door, stepped out of the warmth of the car, and stopped, looking around, my hand on the car roof. The lawns would be lush green in just a few months. The immaculate neighborhood of the upper class. I could imagine Jake and Alice there, sheltered from the outside world. I could imagine the library inside where Alice devoured books written by poets in foreign languages. I could imagine Jake there on Christmas, the house easily accommodating his vast family, children running around, unpacking their pricey gifts.

I took a deep breath and walked down the driveway. My heart was beating so fast I could not hear my thoughts. She must be there.

I stopped in front of the door and looked back, Miranda gave a thumbs up from the car. The door was painted midnight blue, a rich color, with a silver knocker in the shape of a delicate hand placed in the middle. My hand went to use it, but I stopped in time, only tracing its outline with my fingers.

There was a modern-looking buzzer with a camera on my right. I pressed the button.

Nothing happened for minutes, even though I knew someone was inside, there was a light in the windows.

I pressed again and hugged my torso. I looked around, the tight darkness was lowering itself.

The door opened and a thin ashen face looked back at me.

"Hi," I said. "I?—"

"I know who you are," the woman said kindly. Even though her face was streaked with grief, I saw how lively it could have been just weeks before.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," I whispered. She shook her head, a jerking motion.

Alice looked just like her and I knew I was staring. The woman touched my wrist for a moment.

"And I'm sorry for yours."

I nodded, looking down. I could not break down in front of their mom.

"Is Alice here?" I asked.

"No, sorry, sweetheart."

I rubbed my jacket near my heart, because it burned. "Where …" I stopped, taking a shaking breath, the dreadful tears pooling again. "Where can I find her?"

There was a movement behind the woman and the door opened wider. A man was looking at me, their dad.

"Please," I whispered, catching my hand on the door frame. "I need to see her."

"She's gone," the man said.

"Where?"

"She travels, hops from place to place. She asked not to look for her," he said.

I looked up at him, he was tall, like Jake was. "How can I reach her? Please."

The woman shifted and caught a single tear running down her cheek with her thumb.

"Emily," she said quietly. "Alice doesn't want to be found."

A slow understanding was creeping under my skin. "She doesn't want to see me. She …" I looked into the woman"s eyes as mine clouded, "she doesn't need me."

The woman nodded, as fat tears ran down her cheeks.

"I see," I said and sniffed. "Please tell Alice the next time she contacts you that I love her."

"God, I'm so sorry," the woman said and turned around, disappearing inside, her back hunched.

The man walked closer to the door.

"I think it's best for you to forget her," he said.

"How can I?"

He took a deep breath and looked down, bracing himself.

"Please don't come here again," he said and started closing the door. Just before it clicked shut he whispered: "I'm sorry."

Midnight blue was in front of me again.

I sobbed, my palm spreading over the door, the cold smooth surface. I lowered my head, another sob escaping, and I covered my mouth with a shaking hand. I looked at the ground, my tears disappearing in the doormat.

Alice didn't need me. Cruel burning words flashed in my mind. I was slowly going down, my knees were weak. But before I could touch the ground, strong hands caught me. Brian and Miranda stood by my side, their faces dark.

"Let's go," he whispered and pulled me up.

I stood up, despite my legs turning into a heavy concrete. But I made one step, and another, walking away from that door. In the middle of the driveway, I turned around and looked at the house. The windows on the ground floor were lit, the shapes of windows upstairs hid in the dark. But I stopped and watched one particular window, because there, between the curtains and my tears I noticed movement, a flash of something light, like… like blonde hair. Was it my pained imagination?

"Alice," I whispered, my hand going up.

Nothing but a blank window looked back at me. In that moment my heart cracked in two, finally breaking like crystal glass on ice.

Miranda hugged my shoulders and turned me back to the car. Inside I lay down on the back seat, like a rag doll, my body going limp. We drove into the dark as I quietly broke down.