Moving again.
A familiar tightness constricts my throat, my chest heavy with unshed grief.My eyes burn, hot and achingly dry.It feels like a circuit blew somewhere deep inside during last night’s storm.The mechanism for tears seems broken.The intensity of the past twenty-four hours has stripped away everything soft and yielding inside me.
There’s pain, yes.Deep and solid.But it’s a dry, brittle pain.
No tears left to soften the edges.
Eventually, numbness descends like a shroud.Moving on autopilot, I walk toward the cavernous walk-in closet James loves to brag about.My side looks sparse compared to his endless rows of suits.It’s the life I tried to cram into his world.
My hands move mechanically.
Jeans folded into squares.
Sweaters stacked.
T-shirts.
Socks.
The mundane essentials of a life, reduced to folded fabric destined for the suitcase.Again.
Each movement is slow.
Deliberate.
Disconnected.
Emotionless.
Only the quiet slide of hangers and the soft thud of clothes landing in the bag.
My fingers work along the rod, pushing hangers aside.My hand closes around another hook, my fingers brushing against smooth silk.
I freeze.
My autopilot glitches.
I slide the hanger forward, revealing the blood-red dress.
Undeniably gorgeous.
Undeniably expensive.
Undeniably James.
It’s exactly the kind of overtly sexy showpiece he always preferred.
But this one is special…
Driven by morbid curiosity, I carry the dress to the tall cheval mirror near the vanity.
I hold it up against my body.The silk drapes over the heavy knit of my sweater dress.My reflection stares back.Pale face, tangled ponytail, holding this scrap of luxurious red silk.As I stare, the image flickers and shifts…
The mirror reflects a different woman.Cheeks flushed with excitement, eyes bright.
I had just gotten home from a long day at the café, my first week as owner.I was tired and looking forward to a quiet night in with James.But the apartment was empty.In the bedroom, an enormous bouquet of white lilies and red roses dominated the vanity.On the bed, scattered with rose petals, sat a white box tied with a thick scarlet ribbon, a small envelope propped against it.
The card read:
