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Three
Summer
I’m hungover.
It sucks, because it's been awhile since I've felt this shitty and I was also hoping that the past 24 hours would have been forgotten. Instead, they are crisp in my memory, including what Sloane mentioned about Shaw.
I met Shaw my sophomore year in college when I arrived an hour late to an English Lit study group When everyone else was annoyed by my tardiness, he took the time to catch me up.
I ran late to the next one as well, and again, he caught me up. We forged a friendship and only grew closer in the later years after college.
Looks-wise, Shaw is an attractive man. He’s tall, light brown hair that’s a little long on top and short on the sides, he’s got caring olive colored eyes and a strong jawline.
Am I attracted to him? I don’t think that I ever let myself think of him as anything more than a friend. When we first met, I was dating some frat guy, and he was focused on school and dated here and there, but nothing too serious until he met his ex, Natalie.
I groan and as I get out of bed. I put on the sweatshirt that lies on the chair opposite the bed.
I slowly open the door and tiptoe down the hall to the bathroom, do what I need to do and then make my way to the kitchen.
It’s a week day, so I have the house to myself and I don’t open up my store for another few hours, so I’m thankful to have the space to myself, even though I’m invading someone else’s home.
I start the Keurig and make myself a cup of coffee, after drinking a glass of water and taking some aspirin as I walk around Shaw’s home. I’ve been here a million of times, but I’m not confident that I’ve recently looked around at what makes his home, a home.
The artwork from Mason hangs proudly on the fridge and along the wall beside the eat in kitchen area. In the living room, there are a few large black and white photos of still objects, mostly landscape images. There’s a built-in bookshelf along one side of the wall where he has some random books and a million photo albums.
There are several photos of Mason, Shaw and Mason, photos of Shaw’s parents and then several photos of Shaw and me through the years as well. One of the larger photos looks to be a candid photo of Shaw, Mason and me having a picnic, laughing together. I don’t think I’ve seen the photo before now. My finger runs along the edge of the photo. We look like a family; we look so happy.
Does Shaw think of me as more than a friend?
Could I think of Shaw as more than a friend?
Looking at him in the photo, he’s very attractive and knowing his character, makes him even more attractive.
I shake my head.
He’s your best friend. Stop being ridiculous!I chastise myself and return to the kitchen to top off my coffee before getting in the shower to start my day.
Damn Sloane for putting those thoughts in my head.
My day is uneventful and half-way through when my staff comes in, I decide to leave and head to my apartment to get some things. I didn’t grab any clothes and feel gross wearing yesterday's clothing, even though nobody noticed at the store. As I enter the apartment, I realize that I’m not as upset as I should be when someone's relationship falls apart.
I’m looking around the space as if I’ve never seen it before, with clarity.
While I chose this apartment, we both combined our furniture to make this place a home. What I see now, reflects none of that to me. I grab my suitcase and a few bankers boxes from the closet and once I have constructed the boxes; I place a few sentimental knick knacks into the box, while I walk through the living room and the kitchen. I place the box beside the front door once it’s full and take the suitcase to the bedroom.
The bed is unmade, and I see Colin’s clothes on the floor beside his side of the bed. I look away from the bed and busy myself with the contents on my side of the closet. I pull down everything and fold it as neatly as possible, then place the hangers back on the rod. I move to the dresser and take my clothes out of there. Once my suitcase is full, I look under the bed and grab Colin’s suitcase. Not caring that it doesn’t belong to me, I put the rest of my clothes in the case then move to the bedside table on my usual side of the bed. I open the drawers and unceremoniously dump them into the case, one after the other, until I empty all three drawers. I look at the picture frame of Colin and I and face it down.
I look around the room and grab the art off the wall and leave the room. I don’t want any of the furniture, when I find a new place, I’ll start fresh and not have any reminders of him.
I wheel both suitcases out of the apartment, down to the parking lot, and put them in the trunk of my car. I return to the house and begin filling up the reusable grocery bags with the food that I had recently purchased, leaving him with empty cupboards and an empty fridge.
Everything else in the apartment is just things, and things that can be replaced. I bring all the groceries down to my car and on my last trip, pick up the boxes beside the door and close the door on this part of my life. I pocket the key to remind myself to to go to the property managers office and remove myself from the lease.
