Eight Weeks (Unfrozen Four Book 2)
Eight Weeks: Chapter 55

“I’m so sick and tired / of feeling sick and tired”—I THINK I’M LOST AGAIN by Chase Atlantic

“Suck it up, dude,” Miles says as he seats himself beside me. “She said it wasn’t a goodbye.”

It’s been a week since Sofia left, and all I did was sulk and drink myself to oblivion.

I never said this was a goodbye, then why does it feel like one?

She doesn’t even respond to my texts. I mean, she reads them but apparently responding takes up too much of her time.

“Have you ever been in love?” I lean my head against Miles’s shoulder, and maybe if I weren’t as drunk as I am, I would have been smarter than to ask him this.

He brings an arm around me, patting me on my shoulder. “You do know I have a daughter, right?”

“Mhm. But Brooke wasn’t planned, so that doesn’t guarantee you were in love with Millie. And you’re not in love with your wife either.”

“Alright.” I hear Colin chuckle just before he’s in my face and takes my beer away from me. “Think you’ve had enough.”

“Nah,” I say, “I think I could use another beer.” Or another five. I don’t even like beer, tastes like piss. Colin walks away with my beer in his hands, ignoring me wanting another one. Fuck him, nobody needs Colin anyway.

That’s not true, love that man. But fuck him anyway.

“So, Miles, how’d you get over Millie?” I look at him with half-opened eyes, barely even seeing him though. He’s all blurry and I’m not exactly sure why.

“Ah, well, you know, she died.” He snaps his fingers against my forehead, and I fall back on the couch like an old sack of potatoes. “Took some time to adjust.”

“Then you fucked her twin sister,” I comment, then immediately slap a hand to my face. Not because I regret saying it though. “Miles-y has a type.”

“I dated Em even before I was with Millie, Aaron.”

“Like I said, you’ve got a type. Blondes with green eyes.” I gape at him at the realization. “Do you have a thing for my sister?” If he does, I’m sure Colin won’t like hearing about it.

Miles sighs deeply, shaking his head.

“For me then?”

“I don’t like dicks.”

“Good, because I really don’t like you that way man. Like, I love you, but I definitely love Sofia way more. And I—”

“Shut up, Aaron.” Grey laughs, laying his hand on my shoulder as he stands in front of me. “You’ll regret all the shit you’re saying right now.”

Probably, yet I ignore him anyway and turn back to look at Miles. “Do you miss Millie? Because I feel like I will never not miss Sofia. And she is alive.” Just shut up, Aaron. You’re not helping anything.

He hesitates to answer, his head slightly tilting. Miles doesn’t talk about Millie much. To be fair, neither of us knows her personally, only from what he did tell us about her.

Alright, I know Millie, because my sister used to be friends with her but other than that, not a clue who she was as a person.

“Aaron, stop bothering Miles. He’s got enough shit going.” Grey pulls me off the couch, hooking an arm around me to lead me away from my fellow blond friend.

“But he hasn’t answered me yet.”

“She is dead. Of course he misses her.” He leads me around the couches, making the room spin like a merry go round.

Can he stop making the room spin? It really makes me want to puke.

Then, out of nowhere, my head snaps back around to look at Miles. “Where is Brooke anyway?” Maybe I’m blind, but I don’t see her around, nor do I hear her being here. She’s always giggling or making some noises to make her presence known.

I love her little giggles, they’re so pure and pain-free.

Why do humans grow up and their laughter’s automatically no longer honest? Why do we have to suffer when nobody even asked us to be on earth anyway?

And why the hell am I becoming a philosopher?

“She’s with Emory so I can be here and help our friends take care of your drunk ass,” Miles answers.

Hm. Checks out.

“Do you miss Izan?” I slurp on my words, feeling my head pounding a little.

Grey shakes his head at me, I think? Could be the room spinning, too.

“I’ll take it from here,” my sister says, coming up behind me as Grey and I reach the stairs.

“You sure? He’ll be a pain in the ass to get upstairs.”

“Why am I going upstairs?” I ask, almost falling into my sister’s arms.

“Because it’s late and you should go to sleep,” Grey tells me. But he is lying because it is still light outside. Not daylight-light but enough to see the streets still, and the trees and sky and everything.

Whatever, right? Maybe catching some sleep will do me good. Though, probably not because the second I close my eyes, all I see is Sofia. She is everywhere, haunting me.

Lily leads me into my bedroom, right over to my bed so I can fall down on it with a huff.

So now I lie here, my legs dangling down the side of my bed while I stare at my blurry ceiling with stupid salty tears just casually leaving my eyes like I gave it permission to do so.

The mattress slightly dips next to me as Lily takes a seat. “It’s only seven more weeks until graduation,” she says, taking my hand in hers.

“Seven too many.”

What does it change if I fly to Germany and get my Sofia back now or in eight weeks? Alright, seven, now that one has passed already. What does Sofia need eight weeks for? Talking to her father shouldn’t take this long.

Right—she didn’t even give me a specific time period in which she’d be back, or I could come visit her. I made that time up because when she said she’d leave, in my head, I knew I’d be coming for her the second I’m free to leave the U.S., no longer bound to school.

“You’re whinier than I was when I wanted to kill myself.”

I laugh, once. One little “Ha”, like what she said was the unfunniest of funniest things I have ever heard. And maybe it is. She may joke about her depression, but to anyone that loves her, it’s more like a mini heart attack every single time she jokes about it.

“Because you have room to talk,” I mutter under my breath. “Your boyfriend didn’t run away from you.”

“Sofia didn’t run away from you either, Ron. She is trying to fix her life and become someone you can love without her making it unnecessarily difficult.”

“But I already love her,” I groan. “I love her, Lily.” I sit up a little too fast, my head spinning like crazy, but I don’t care enough to lie back down. I look at Lily, my lungs fighting for air when all I take are shallow breaths. My voice small and quiet when I repeat, “I love her…”

“I know you do.” She rests our hands on her lap, her eyes staying on the ribbon around my wrist. “That Sofia’s?”

I look down, blinking a couple of times to make my eyes focus on the wisteria fabric. “She loves this stupid ribbon.” I groan in pain. Not physical pain, the shit that’s invading my heart. “Why do I feel like this, Lils?”

“Because you drank a little too much and your girlfriend is kind of an ocean away.”

Like I didn’t know that. Can’t she just gaslight me into believing I’m alright? “Thanks for making all this more depressing.”

“Aaron, you will be all right. You’ll stay sad for a while but it’s going to be forgotten the moment you see her again.”

“I’d rather be angry.” Anger seems less painful. I could be mad that Sofia just left me, and I have no idea if she’s ever coming back. Sure, she said it wasn’t a goodbye, but that still doesn’t guarantee me she will be back here.

In addition, she could at least answer my goddamn texts. Perhaps that would be enough to stop me from crying like a baby.

“You don’t. Anger is basically sadness in fight-mode.”

“You seemed to prefer anger to sadness.” I raise my eyebrows at her, or one. Maybe I don’t even raise one. I’m not sure how much control of my own facial features I have at this point.

“Yeah, because I was suicidal and needed my feelings to stop in order to keep myself alive. It was exhausting to be angry at everyone and everything.” She gets up from my bed, letting go of my hand as well. “Sadness is a bitch that pulls you under water, expecting you to be able to breathe. Anger just likes to hurt everyone around and yourself. Anger makes you forget whereas sadness lets you feel. I’d rather be sad than feel nothing at all, and so should you.”

Lily makes her way to my door, ready to leave. Only as she reaches the door do her words finally settle in.

Perhaps she’s right.

“Lils?” I call out louder than expected. Her hand halts on the doorknob. She turns around, waiting. “Did you talk to her?”

She nods. “Yesterday.”

“Is she okay?”

“As okay as it gets. She misses you, Aaron. It’s not easy for her either, but I bet you know as much as I do that Sofia needs to figure out her situation before there could ever be a chance for you two getting a happily ever after.” Lily smiles at me warmly, maybe sympatric even. “You’ve gone thirteen years without talking to Sofia, I think you will survive eight more weeks.”

“Seven.”

“Seven then.”