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"I'm ready to declare my major," I tell her.
She starts typing on her computer, "And what have you decided on?"
"Business Management with an emphasis in Accounting."
She raises her eyebrows, intrigued. "Wonderful. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
I shake my head. "That's it for today."
She makes me wait while she enters the information into the system and then sends me on my way.
I grab my backpack off the floor by my feet and rise. "Good luck to you, Miss Kearns."
"Thank you," I tell her as I head out of her office.
The walk through campus is slow and torturous. It's like the weather knows. It knows he's gone, too. Snow. Rain. Ice. Grey skies. I adjust the beanie on my head, tighten my scarf as a frigid breeze blows. I'm stuck in a never-ending winter when all I really want is the sun, warmth, heat.
I stick the key into the door of Danny's truck, mentally cursing myself for giving up that SUV with remote start and heated seats.
Should have kept it as payment. For all the misery he's caused me.
At least until the weather warmed up.
Doesn't matter now.
I start the engine, rub my hands together in an attempt to warm myself as I wait for the heat to crank out of the vents. I let out a deep breath, watch as a steam cloud of white fills the cab, then disappears seconds later. Like Kyle.
The tears don't come as often anymore. After crying for two weeks straight, I've pulled it together. But moments like this, when something reminds me that he didn't stay, that he didn't want me, that I wasn't worth fighting for, cripples me.
I place a hand over my chest, sighing when I feel my heart beating rapidly away in there. It doesn't ache or hurt anymore. It's numb. Hollow. Empty.
There's...nothing in there.
Like my heart burst into flames and all that remains is ash and black and soot. I can't feel anything.
The heat spills from the vents in puffs as it warms my arms first. Then my face. I feel my skin start to thaw, if only it could penetrate my heart. Put some life back into me.
As I back out of the parking space and head across town, to the bedroom I'm renting from a girl I met in my women's history class last semester, I feel different. Not better, but resigned, accepting, content. My life is slowly coming together, even if it doesn't look anything like I want it to.
I'm picking up all the pieces.
By myself for a change.
—
I set the caramel latte in front of Chantal before untying my apron and taking a seat across from her with a cup of black coffee. It's not sweet like hot chocolate. It's bitter, strong. What I need right now.
"You declared your major, found a new place to live and you're working here now?" she asks in amazement.
I quit the Gallery. Gave Kelsey my two weeks’ notice. She told me I should stay on, continue doing whatever it was I was doing there. Like I was going to let him continue to sign my paychecks when he left like a coward. No, thank you.
And how could I keep walking in there every day? Seeing his images on the wall? Being reminded that he loved me, that he claims he still does, but he left anyway?
Why did he leave?
"I like it here," I shrug as I look around at the tiny coffee shop closer to campus. It's smaller, less crowded, but it's what I needed.
I make coffee, warm pastries and clear off tables. When my shift is over, I go home. It's simple and easy. I get to be a barista—a college student—nothing else.
