ROOTED 7
CHAPTER 7 The change did not arrive all at once. Jonathan noticed it in fragments, in small moments that would have gone unnoticed before. The way the apartment no longer felt as suffocating in the mornings. The way he no longer avoided the sound of people passing by outside. The way his hands lingered less when he reached for things that used to belong to her. It unsettled him. Not because it was wrong. But because it felt unfamiliar. Carlie noticed it too. She always had a way of seeing things he tried not to name. “You stayed out longer again,” she said one afternoon, her voice quiet as he stepped inside. Jonathan shut the door behind him, the soft click echoing briefly before disappearing into the stillness. “I lost track of time.” “That never used to happen.” He slipped his keys onto the table, the metal brushing lightly against wood. “A lot of things didn’t used to happen.” Carlie didn’t respond right away. She stood near the window, where the light gathered gently around her, outlining her form in something almost delicate. Jonathan looked at her then. The difference was no longer something he could pretend not to see. The light no longer stopped at her. It passed through. “You’re fading faster.” The words felt heavier now, as if saying them gave them weight. Carlie glanced down at herself, then back at him, her expression calm in a way that made his chest tighten. “I think you’re just noticing more.” “That’s not the same thing.” “No,” she said softly. “It isn’t.” Silence settled between them, but it did not feel the same as before. It no longer pressed against him. It simply existed. Jonathan moved further into the room, his gaze drifting briefly over the familiar space. Everything remained where it had always been, yet something about it felt different. Less like a place frozen in time, and more like something waiting to move forward. He stopped near the table, resting his hand against its surface. “I didn’t plan to go back,” he said after a moment. Carlie’s eyes lifted slightly. “But you did.” Jonathan nodded, almost to himself. “I didn’t think it would feel… easier.” The word felt strange on his tongue. Carlie smiled faintly. “It’s not supposed to feel hard forever.” He let out a quiet breath. “I thought it would.” Carlie looked at him with a softness that carried something deeper now. Not pity. Not sadness. Understanding. “You held on to me for five years,” she said. “Of course it felt that way.” Jonathan’s grip on the table tightened slightly. “I wasn’t ready.” “I know.” The answer was gentle. Too gentle.