I hear an ‘oof’ from behind me. The sound of distress pulls me away from the mirror, and I turn around. Miles is trying to fit himself and the box he’s carrying through the door frame without bruising his knuckles.
Miles Anderson, one of the finest policemen in the city, was my father’s partner and best friend when my father was alive. He helped me through the academy, saw that I was taken care of, and then he became my partner when I joined the ranks as a Manhattan cop.
He’s a handsome man, if I were into older men. With grays at the temples of his dark head of hair and a matching goatee, any woman would consider themselves lucky. I suppose his wife Rochelle does.
Aside from his rugged, aging appearance, Miles is a thin man, but I know, from being around him my whole life, that he spends time in the gym at the station.
Even though he’s mindful of his physical appearance, he isn’t about his organs, so when his deep voice comes out raspy, I’m aware that it’s from his nightly cigars. “This won’t be so bad, Charlie.”
I must be wearing a defeated expression. Even if I wasn’t, he can read me like a book. “Yes, it will.”
He sets the box next to Nathan’s and comes to wrap an arm around my shoulders. “This is only temporary. You’ll move up in the ranks and with it, earn a bigger salary.”
I breathe a sigh through my nose. “I don’t give a rat's ass where I live.” And it’s the truth. Nathan’s income from being a high-end accountant may have paid for everything I am, but I truly never needed all that. Thanks to my mother, we grew up broke. I’ve known from a young age what poverty feels like.
He sighs with me as Rochelle walks through the door, carrying a smaller box. She sets it on the floor with a look of sympathy.
Rochelle is as beautiful as her husband, and she’s thicker like me, too. With black hair that I suspect she dyes and dark chocolate eyes, she’s striking. She pins me with those eyes, reads our body language, and crosses the short distance to nudge her husband off my shoulders and fold me into a hug.
“Maybe moving was too soon,” she whispers in my ear.
Careful not to dig my chin into her shoulder, I give a little shake of my head. “There are many reasons I had to get out of there. It was too expensive for me to stay, and the end of the month was nearing, but I also couldn’t be in our shared space anymore. Staying wasn’t an option.”
“Oh honey,” she says, pulling away from him and fixing my hair in a comforting, motherly way. “He was declared dead last week. You’re moving things too fast.”
A week and a day, but who’s counting? “Maybe,” I murmur.
“For Christ's sake,” Miles mutters softly. “You guys were separated for months.”
She slaps his shoulder with the back of her hand. “But they still lived together.”
I scrape my palm down my face. We’ve had this discussion before, just yesterday in fact. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t have feelings left for him.”
Nathan and I had started out strong. We were high school sweethearts, and I saw him through college, working my ass off at a diner to support us, and he did the same for us once he got his degree and built a name for himself. He gave me everything I needed while I went through the academy to follow in my father’s footsteps. But somewhere along the way, we became two different people. We stopped loving each other, both wanting different things. Do I regret separating? No. Do I regret letting him walk out the door with his suitcase and a sailor’s hat? Yes. Yes, I do. I didn’t even say goodbye. I just glanced at him wheeling his suitcase to the door. Meanwhile, I sat on the couch, watching my favorite show with a bowl of fruit in my lap. I regret that the most.
And then they found his rented boat in pieces, and his body was nowhere to be found. It took them another week to declare him dead and another day for them to find me and give me the horrible news.
Miles nods a little and puts his hands on his hips. “Maybe starting over will be good for you.”
“We’ll see to it,” Rochelle says with a watery smile.
I give her a little hug of thanks because, right now, I feel like I owe them everything. As I pull away, I peck her cheek. “Thanks for helping me move, guys.”
Rochelle’s smile brightens a little. “Of course. We’re all you have left; we wouldn’t let you do this alone.”
I don’t think she meant to, but her words thicken the air. I have no siblings, no parents, no name for myself. Nohusband, no kids, and no pets. I have nothing to lean on and no one in my corner, except them.
Miles tries to break it by asking, “Are you ready for Monday?”
“Back to work, you mean?” I question. He nods, and I twist my long hair over to one shoulder. “It’ll be nice to get back to the field.”
He cringes as he looks away.
My eyebrows raise. “Miles?”
Scratching his goatee, he admits, “I think the captain is going to bench you until he’s sure you’re okay.”
“The fuck he is,” I hiss. “This is horrible – of course it is – but the best thing for me is to get back to work.”
