Eugene always knew. Every thread of feeling I had, every tender weak spot—he knew exactly where to press.
I forced myself to stay calm.
I handed the phone back to Mom and smiled.
"You're right not to take it. Things might not even work out—who knows."
"Oh, stop that nonsense!"
Mom laughed and cupped my cheek.
"Your father was just saying yesterday—where are you going to find another boy as genuine as Eugene? You'd better appreciate what you've got."
"I know, I know."
I cut her off before she could keep going.
"By the way, Mom, don't tell Eugene I'm heading back. I want to surprise him."
Mom let out a soft laugh.
"Alright. Your secret's safe with me."
At three in the afternoon, I arrived at the apartment Eugene and I rented together.
He wasn't home.
I set my suitcase down inside the door and looked around. Everything looked normal. Nothing out of place.
The first thing I checked was the security cameras.
The footage cut to black three days ago—the night I left.
I went to the kitchen. It looked the same as when I'd left.
But a supermarket receipt was sitting in the trash can. Yesterday's date. Dish soap, paper towels, the usual household stuff.
Then, at the bottom of the list—three boxes of condoms.