"I'm staying." Not a question. Not an offer. A fact.
She went to her car. Came back with an air mattress, a blanket, and a paper bag that turned out to contain two gas-station donuts and a bottle of cheap wine.
"Emergency kit," she said.
We sat on the air mattress, backs against the wall, passing the wine bottle between us. The apartment was cold—the heat hadn't been turned on in weeks—and we pulled the blanket over our legs and sat in the silence that only worked with a person who'd seen you at your absolute worst and stayed.
"He ended it," I said.
"I figured."
"Jessica was there. His ex-wife. She said—" I stopped. Took a drink. "She said he'll always choose work over me. And then I confronted him about it andhe just... shut down. Told me the arrangement was over. That I was free to move on."
"What an asshole."
"He's not an asshole. He's scared. He does this—Elena told me he does this. He runs when it gets real."
“Ugh, that’s an excuse —and deserve better.”
I took another drink. The wine was terrible. I didn't care.
“I never told Callum that the shop is closing.”
Mika was quiet.
"And my apartment's been ready for days. I never told him that, either."
"Why not?"
"I didn't want to introduce the mess. I wanted to keep the good part good for as long as I could. And now the good part is gone and all that's left is the mess, and I'm sitting on an air mattress drinking gas-station wine in an apartment that doesn't feel like mine anymore." I stared at the ceiling—patched, smooth, boring. "I had everything, Mika. For a few weeks, I had everything. And now I'm right back where I started."
"That's not true."
"It feels true."
"Feelings aren't facts. You taught me that."
"I was wrong. Feelings are terrible facts that ruin your life."
Mika put her arm around me. I leaned into her.The wine sat between us, half-gone, doing its meager job.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"Tonight? Drink this wine, eat a stale donut, and ugly-cry on this air mattress."
"And tomorrow?"
I closed my eyes. Thought about the coffee shop with its dying equipment and its end-of-month deadline. Thought about the man in the beautiful suit who'd told me I was free to go. Thought about Elena's number in my phone and the hug she'd given me and what she'd called herself:backup.
"Tomorrow I'll deal with it," I said. "All of it. The shop, the apartment, Callum. Tomorrow."
Mika squeezed my shoulder. "I'll be here."
"I know."
"And Willow?"
"Yeah?"
