Twenty.

ISHTAR.

I was going to try preparing dinners again tonight, even though I was almost sure he wasn't going to take a bite of it. Ever since I got discharged from the hospital, our interactions had been so minor. It was almost as though he didn't live under the same roof as I did.

Damian tried to hide away for a reason I was insanely curious about. It wasn't helping that I reminded him of the death of his sister or how much he tried to question me about what happened when I passed out. I told him everything already, exactly how it happened, but I couldn't answer the questions he had.

My heart was heavy, and I clutched tightly the bag of groceries I was holding, looking up at the moon that seemed to be walking with me. At least I wasn't alone. Not entirely.

The wind slapped me in the face, and the cold air settled on my lips. It was the kind of atmosphere where everything incited tears and ill feelings, the kind of night where I wouldn't mind being wrapped up by a stranger's arms and cu