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He supposed that was it, then.

He stood up, off the wall.

He didn’t want this. He wanted to be safe. He wanted to be with Lily, but he couldn’t. She didn’t want it.

But maybe there was still something. Maybe the moment was still lasting.

“Listen… uh…” He said, sparing a glance back at her. “If you want me for anything I’ll… be in one of the other rooms here.”

He looked down, as he walked. He didn’t want to say goodbye. He knew that this was probably going to be the last time that they ever saw each other but still… he didn’t know. Maybe there was still a chance. Maybe tomorrow he’d wake up and she’d be near and she’d be warmer and she’d be the Lily he knew and she’d want to be friends with him and they’d group up and there wouldn’t be any fights and there wouldn’t be any lies and there wouldn’t be any death and maybe that moment was still there he knew that he was going to do as he said and stay here for the night and maybe things would change and maybe things would finally turn around for-

He turned around, walked into the room with Abby inside.

Barry’s bag laid in the centre.

And that was when he realised that no, he couldn’t. He couldn’t be with Lily. The moment was over. She’d find out and she’d scream and she’d run from him and then her warmth would never come back and then they wouldn’t be friends anymore. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want her to find out and for her to have that happen, but he knew it would. Eventually she’d see the bag. Even if she didn’t, he knew that she wasn’t going to go to him. He wasn’t going to wake up with her near. It wasn’t going to happen. She had changed. He had changed. She was colder. He had killed. He knew that as much as he wanted it it wasn’t going to happen. She wouldn’t go in a group with him. Even if she did, she’d eventually find out about what he did. And then she wouldn’t want to be in a group anymore. There was a chance, though. If he hid the bag, put it somewhere she wouldn’t see it, then maybe she wouldn’t know. He had lied. He could lie again, and since it was about something important, he knew that he could do it.

And then he remembered. Back to when Mr Graham’s head had been shot off. The man on the stage. He said something. Every day. He’d give an announcement and say who killed and who was dead.

She’d find out, whether he liked it or not.

And when she did, she’d…

He didn’t know.

He didn’t want to know.

So he picked up Barry’s bag off the ground, and walked out of the rooms.

He spared Abby one last glance before he closed the door.

((Alvaro Vacanti, continued elsewhere))
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Would You Believe? This Isn't Me. · One-on-one Therapy