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The tears are still falling. I thought I was over this whole crying thing. I cried all night long as I laid on those stupid purple flower sheets in my childhood bedroom, the faint smell of him still clinging to the pillow. Then, when sleep finally did come, I woke up in a cold sweat.
So, I did the only thing I could think to do.
I made a cup of coffee.
And I drank it.
Mom found me sitting on the cold back porch shivering. She's furious. She doesn't know he left me yet. She only knows he didn't show up for the wedding. After my meltdown at the lodge, I made Matt swear he wouldn't tell a soul until I knew for sure.
But I know.
I know he walked away from me.
What I don't know is why.
Why did he leave me when he fought so hard to stay close to me for all those years? He didn't go to Brown because he couldn't be away from me.
What changed now?
What made him decide to walk away from everything we've built?
He was it for me. He was my future. I don't know what to do now. How am I supposed to go on? Everything was planned out. We were going to get married and buy a house and have children and, when we were old, we were going to die together. That was the plan.
So, what? Now I have to live without him? Just like that? Like what we had didn't fucking matter?
Like I didn't matter?
The tears leak down my frozen face and splatter on the red silk dress I'm still wearing. I didn't even bother changing out of it when I got home from the reception. I couldn't bring myself to care enough to put on something warmer, less formal.
I turn off the ignition, grab my purse.
My feet carry me to the door. It's a faded pink color with the number seven on it. A peephole lined in gold. Scratches and dents from years of life walking in and out of its threshold. Does it know? Know what heartbreak looks like? Did it know when he walked out the door for the last time?
My heart hurts. Not like it did when Matt broke it. This hurt is...it's my soul aching. My hopes and dreams all snatched away from me. Nothing left. Everything is black. Everything hurts. Things that have never hurt, hurt now. My skin and hair and nails. I didn't know that was possible. For those things to ache. But they do.
I stick the brass key in the worn gold doorknob. It turns and I push it open.
I step inside. Everything looks the same. Nothing out of place.
My feet carry me down the hallway, to our bedroom. The door is wide open, but I can already sense the change. I slowly walk inside, see the empty drawers still open, like he left in a rush. His camera is gone. The pile of books on his nightstand.
It's not until I see it that I fall apart.
His pillow.
It's gone, too.
I take a few steps forward and collapse onto the bed. My body wracked with sobs, every part of me crying out for him.
I stay in the same position until the sunlight disappears, darkness filling the space around me.
Hours pass before I hear them. Footsteps coming down the hall.
"Jenny?"
I sit up, wipe the snot and tears and agony off my face. "In h-here."
Mom flicks on the light, her face livid. "Why haven't you answered any of my phone calls. Kyle's phone is disconnected. I was worr—"
