All Chapters of The Things We Don't Say: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

The next time I saw Jordan was a week after the accident. I was in the lobby of St. James, waiting for another of my friends, Anna, when he sauntered out of a hallway with Heather in his arms.She seemed oddly vibrant for someone who claimed to have been in an accident. And there I was, still in my clutches, and unable to go get a new pair of glasses.Anger bobbled in my chest. I needed it to simmer.They had already walked past me, Heather giggling and clinging to Jordan, who had a blank, almost bored expression on. But he halted suddenly, turning around to face me. “It’s you,” he murmured, angling his head. “The guy from the parking lot.”Jordan took me in, from the clutches, to my feeble hands holding on to them. I'd never wished to be in a different situation more than now. I felt the heat creep up my face as I tried to look away sharply. I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there, trying to avert his gaze. “How’s your leg?”I blinked, bringing my eyes sharply to his. He

Jordan parked inside the underground garage of a huge building downtown. The second we stepped out of the car, my bladder pressed against me, and I brought my bottom lip between my teeth, clamping down. He took it in, his eyes lingering for a second too long before bringing themselves upwards. He nodded toward the elevator. “Come on.”The ride to the penthouse felt too long. Suffocating. Not because of Jordan, but because of whatever that was over the phone call. I’d noticed that he looked….smaller somehow, since that call.His hands tightened into fists repeatedly, and he seemed to be very jittery, like someone had snuffed out all the arrogance and confidence he had. The elevator doors chimed open and Jordan stepped out fist.He barely made it three steps into the apartment before halting abruptly. I almost crashed into him. The penthouse was huge. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked Los Angeles, the dull weather stretching endlessly beyond the glass. From that point, I could see o

I found his sister's room down the hall, and for the first few minutes, I was unable to go in. She was dead, and I was going to use her art supplies. It didn't feel right. Standing by the door, it was easy to assume that the youngest Arthur was loved. Every inch of the room was covered in a shade of lilac, from the sheets to the blinds, and the cute rug covering the centre of the room.She must have been ill for a while, but Jordan hadn't changed a thing. Unconsciously, I looked back into the hallway. He must have fallen asleep by now. I could imagine it. His brown hair scratching the sheets of the pillows, and the small frown I had a feeling creased his face each time he was asleep.No, Marcus. You can’t do that. You can’t.So, I did the only thing I had power over. I crossed the threshold and hopped into the room with my crutches. It wasn’t hard to find her art supplies, nestled in an adjoining room. She must have been working on something when she discovered she was ill.There was

For the first few minutes, I thought I had to be dreaming. No. Scratch that. I was so certain I was dreaming. Even before I clicked the text open, for some reason, I knew who it was.It was there at the back of my mind, scratching like a cat that wanted to be let in. Only that this time, it was a stray that wasn’t meant to come in. I knew it could hurt me. I knew what getting my hopes high could do to me. Yet, I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop my heart from lurching almost painfully when I opened the message.I swallowed, my eyes reading the words greedily at first, and then slowly the second time, careful not to miss anything.It was impossible to stop the chuckle from leaving my lips. Jordan was mourning, yet he still had it in him to throw jokes around. After you all but ran out of my car…or more like hopped out with the crutches and all… I saw someone else with crutches almost immediately. Of course, he was nothing like you, but that’s beside the point. The crutches were custo