3. The only place left

Lena POV

The taxi smells like cheap air freshener and old seats and something else I don’t want to name. I sit there staring out the window and my hands won’t stop shaking so I shove them under my thighs like that will fix it. It doesn’t. Nothing does.

“Where to,” the driver asked earlier, and I said the address like it wasn’t a place I hadn’t been in months, like it wasn’t the only door left that might open.

I keep thinking any second now my phone is going to ring. Ethan. Or his parents. Or someone telling me this is a misunderstanding and I should turn around. The phone stays quiet a dead weight in my lap. Just plastic and glass and silence.

When the car stops, I don’t move right away. The building looks the same. Beige. Boring. Keenan’s place. Third floor. I’ve laughed here before. I’ve cried here before too, but not like this. Not shattered like this.

“You good,” the driver asks.

“Yeah,” I say, too fast. “Thanks.”

I get out, grab my bag, slam the door harder than I mean to, and immediately feel stupid about it. I stand there for a second staring up at the building, heart beating like I just ran five miles instead of sitting for twenty minutes.

I almost turn around.

I don’t.

The elevator is slow. Always has been. I wipe my face again. My eyes burn. I don’t even know if I look human anymore.

When I knock, my hand hurts from how hard I do it.

The door opens and Keenan’s smile dies the second he sees me. “Oh no,” he says. “No no no. Lena.”

That’s all it takes.

I step forward and grab him and I’m crying into his chest like I’m twelve again and everything is too big and I don’t belong anywhere. He swears quietly and wraps his arms around me, tight, solid, real.

“What happened,” he says. “Who hurt you.”

“Ethan,” I choke out. “He divorced me.”

Keenan goes stiff. “What.”

“He made me sign papers,” I say, words tumbling out wrong and fast. “He called me names. He said I cheated. He said I used him. I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, pulling me inside and slamming the door shut behind us. “Sit down before you pass out.”

I collapse on the couch, my bag sliding off my shoulder, my whole body shaking like it finally noticed it’s safe enough to fall apart.

He crouches in front of me, eyes searching my face like he’s trying to see if I’m bleeding. “Did he hit you.”

“No,” I whisper. “He just… destroyed me.”

Keenan stands up and starts pacing. “That asshole. I swear to God. After everything you did for him. After everything his parents did for you.”

“I don’t understand it,” I say. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“You didn’t,” he snaps. “Something else is going on. People don’t flip like that for nothing.”

I pull my knees up to my chest. “Maya blocked me.”

His head snaps toward me. “Your Maya.”

“Yeah,” I say. “She said I deserved it. Called me a whore.”

Keenan lets out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a growl. “I always hated her.”

I sniff. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” he says. “Quietly. Like an adult.”

I almost laugh. Almost.

He stops pacing and looks at me like he’s made a decision. “You can’t stay here.”

“I know,” I say quickly. “I just needed somewhere to land for a minute. I need to get away. Like really away.”

“How away.”

“Disappear away,” I say. “I don’t want anyone finding me.”

He nods once. “Okay. My parents’ vacation place. Small fishing town. Nobody there unless they’re born there or hiding.”

My stomach flips. “I can’t drag you into this.”

“You’re not,” he says. “I’m already in it.”

He pulls out his phone and starts making calls like this is just another favor. “Yeah, hey. I need something. Fake ID. Don’t ask. I trust you. Tonight if possible.”

I stare at him. “Keenan.”

He looks at me. “You saved me a hundred times when I didn’t know how to save myself. Let me do this.”

I nod because I can’t speak.

He grabs my phone. “SIM card.”

I hand it over without thinking.

He pops it out and snaps it in half, then again, then again, like he’s angry at it. “There. Dead.”

Something about that makes it real. Terrifying. Free.

He starts packing. Tossing clothes in a bag. Calls his brother. “Yeah, I got a call from my editor. No, I’m serious. I’m heading home for a bit. Don’t freak out.”

At the airport, I keep my head down. Sunglasses. Hat. My name feels dangerous now, like it doesn’t belong to me anymore.

When we sit on the plane, my hands finally stop shaking.

“I don’t know who I am without him,” I whisper.

Keenan looks at me. “Then you get to figure it out.”

The plane lifts off and the city shrinks and something inside me cracks open just enough to breathe.

I don’t know where this ends.

I just know I didn’t stay.