Chapter 4: Fractures

On my way home, shivering and hollow, I passed the Clark/Lake L stop—Jason’s usual. The crowd outside was thick, red lights flashing. Firefighters and EMTs hustled people out, blankets wrapped around shivering shoulders. Chicago felt stretched thin, the storm making everything worse.

I stopped dead, heart thudding.

My phone buzzed, the screen lighting up through the drizzle.

[Hey, my phone got soaked. Just got it fixed.]

[Brought you some cake. I’ll be home soon~]

A cartoon puppy holding a heart winked at me. [The little puppy likes you best]

I stared, rain dripping off my chin. My mind blanked, then rebooted, disbelief settling into my bones.

After a long, shaky breath, I typed back:

[I’m at the subway station, Clark/Lake Exit.]

Jason showed up soon after, weaving through the chaos like he belonged there. He was tall, lean, so pretty people did double takes—red lips, sharp cheekbones, skin almost glowing under the streetlights. Even soaked, in a plain tee, gray hoodie, and jeans, he looked like he belonged on a magazine cover.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay home?”

He scolded, but his voice cracked. He peeled off his hoodie and wrapped it around my shoulders, careful and gentle.

“You always get sick, and you still came out in the rain.”

His scent—clean pine and aftershave—wrapped around me, warming my skin, stinging my eyes. I pressed the hoodie closer, trying to keep it together.

“I thought you died in there.”

I pointed at the subway entrance, hand shaking.

“You said you were on the subway, then nothing.”

“The news said it was flooded.”

“I was terrified. I walked in the rain for ages to get here.”

“Someone tried to stop me, wouldn’t let me go down.”

“I said no, my boyfriend’s still inside—if I die, I’ll die with him.”

“Jason Carter—”

I looked up, eyes red and swollen, locking onto his. My fear reflected in his gaze—or maybe just my desperation.

“When I was so worried about you I nearly lost my life, where were you?”

He ducked his head, hiding behind his lashes. The cocky glint was gone. Maybe the game had gone too far, or maybe he was just tired of pretending.

He turned away, smile barely there, and said, “Of course, I was out buying you cake, babe.”

No—you were out drinking with the rich kids, trampling my love into the gutter, grinning the whole time.

Before I could answer, he crouched, back to me.

“Come on, let’s go home. Don’t get sick for real.”

Jason scooped me up piggyback and slogged through the waist-deep, grimy water. I rested my head on his back, numb. Sirens wailed, the city’s heartbeat relentless.

In my ears, my own voice echoed, hollow.

“Go home for what? Jason Carter, our home is gone.”