Eventually, she signed the clearance even though it was clear she wasn’t convinced, but she couldn’t prove I was lying.
When I got homethat evening, I didn’t notice it right away.
I tossed my keys in the bowl. Dropped my jacket over the chair. Opened the fridge and grabbed a beer.
Quiet.
But she’d said she had a meeting. Something about a young artist needing space. I pictured her in some gallery somewhere,hands moving while she talked, eyes alive the way they always got when she believed in someone.
I took a drink and walked down the hall.
Something felt… off. I couldn’t name it yet. It was just a pressure at the base of my skull. Instinct before thought. I opened the closet.
Empty hangers.
I stared at them without understanding. Then understanding hit all at once.
The drawers were half open. Cleared out. No scarves. No perfume. No shoes kicked off in that careless way she always left them.
Just space. Too much space.
The beer slipped from my hand and hit the carpet without breaking.
That’s when I saw the envelope on the dresser. My name. In her handwriting.
I didn’t sit to read it. Didn’t breathe either.
Tariq,
I tried to stay.
God knows I tried.
You’re right here with me every day, but somehow you’re already gone. I can feel you pulling away even when you’re holding me. Even when you say my name.
I know you’re hurting. I know that fire took something from you. But it’s taking you from me too.
And I don’t know how to compete with ghosts.
I miss you while you’re standing in front of me. I miss you when we’re in the same bed. I miss you when you look at me like you’re trying to remember how to feel.
I love you. That hasn’t changed.
But I can’t keep reaching for someone who won’t reach back.
So I’m going. For me. And maybe for you too.
If you ever find your way back to yourself… you know where to find me.
— Sanaa
I read it twice.
Then I sat down on the floor because my legs stopped working.
The apartment smelled like her perfume. The one she always wore. Byredo Bal d’Afrique that always clung to her fabric and skin.
It was everywhere. And she wasn’t.
