Rolling over onto my side, I reach out, taking hold of a pillow and pulling it tight to my chest. Wrapping my arms around it, I lower my head, inhaling deeply. Hank. It still smells like him. That’s when I let the tears flow. I let out every emotion I’m feeling. My heart breaks again as I replay everything that’s happened. The strain I put in their relationship. Especially Luke and Hank. They were close. Why couldn’t I just be honest from the beginning? I should’ve talked to Hank about my feelings before now. If I’d known in the beginning, then I could’ve pulled away. Ended it before it ever really started.
I wake up feeling like I’ve just been on a drunken bender. But I haven’t. Not even one drop of alcohol. My throat burns, and my eyes feel heavy and swollen. The pillow I’m gripping tightly under my head is damp, not from sweat or drool, but my tears. There’s a dull ache in my chest, and I feel like the weight of the world is pressing down on me.
I don’t move at first. I just lay there, frozen, wishing myself back to sleep. But it doesn’t come. Instead, I stare off into space wondering what my life would be like if I had never offered to take care of Hank. If Ash was never taken and I wasn’t placed in close proximity with Josh.
But I can’t. Because those things did happen.
My body feels stiff as I roll over onto my back. My eyes focus on the ceiling, the tiny popcorn cracks of the paint as I swallow. It hurts, but it doesn’t match the pain in my heart. I place my hands on the bed, shifting slightly to my right as I swing my feet off the side of the bed and sit up.
My head throbs and my chest tightens. I sit there for a moment, my eyes not focused on anything as I chew on my bottom lip. The quiet is deafening.
I let out a sigh knowing what I need to do. But not wanting to do it because it’ll make it final.
Standing up, I walk to the bathroom and keep my head down. I don’t want to see my reflection in the mirror. Not yet. My hands grip the porcelain sink and I inhale deeply, calming myself. Only then do I lift a hand and flick the lights on, lifting my head at the same time.
If you ever want to know the truth, the mirror won’t hesitate to give it to you.
Red-rimmed eyes with puffy lids gaze back at me. Black mascara in tear-dried tracks adorn my cheeks. My hair hangs in a tangled mess around my shoulders. I’m a fucking sight. Turning on the cold water, I place my hands under the stream, splashing it on my face. The cold water shocks my system, helping me finally accept what I’ve only been playing at accepting.
“I have to let them go,” I tell my reflection, hoping that by doing so, the words will finally sink in.
Because if I don’t do it now, I won’t. Josh will for sure find a damn way to weasel himself back into my life.
Picking up the hand towel, I dry off my face, taking a little extra time to make sure to wipe away all my makeup. When I’m done, I head back to my bedroom and open the closet. Sitting in the bottom is a crate filled with old shoes I haven’t worn in years. Ones that I’ve been debating taking to Goodwill, but couldn’t part with them yet. Picking it up, I dump out the contents onto the floor.
It has a new purpose now. It’s going to hold all the items of Hank’s still in my apartment. I need to make a clean break. Holding on to his belongings will only keep me in the past where there’s still a chance of there being an us.
I decide to start with the bedroom. Stepping over to the dirty laundry basket, I take out the only things still left in it. An old pair of grey sweatpants and a shirt. Picking them up, I hold them to my nose, and inhale, taking in his scent for the last time, then drop them in the crate. On the dresser he has some knives and a bottle of cologne, and they join the clothes.
I open the drawer I cleaned out for him in my dresser, and take out the clothing inside of it. There’s a couple pairs of jeans,some shirts, socks, and boxer briefs. Another pain rips through me when I stare down at the empty wooden rectangular object.
The hoodie draped over the chair. The one I told myself I’d give back weeks ago. It still smells faintly like him, or maybe that’s just my memory filling in the blanks. I press it to my face for one dangerous second before forcing myself to fold it. It goes into the crate.
I leave the crate on my dresser and go back to the bathroom, collecting all of his toiletries. Then I take the crate with me to the living room. By the door are a pair of sliders he would wear when he went on the balcony. He hated them when I bought them for him, swearing he’d never wear them. That lasted about a day. Now he loves them. Finally, the mug he claimed from my stash for his coffee. There’s no way I could use it again and not think of him.
Taking one final walk through my apartment, I’m confident I’ve gotten everything. Even the teddy bear he gave me to remind me of him. I take the crate and set it by the door so I can take it to him at the bar tonight.
My apartment has never felt as lonely as it does right now. I drop down on the couch, shifting my body to the side as I pull my legs up and cover up with a throw blanket. Picking up the remote, I turn on the television to watch The Traitors. Anything to keep my mind occupied with something else.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table and I ignore it at first. Then it buzzes again. And I know I can’t. It could be Ash or Arizona and I promised to not go radio silent on them again. Leaning forward, I stretch my arm out, my fingertips barely grasping the edges of it and pick it up. My thumb hovers over the screen.
Messages are waiting. Opening the app, I see it’s a new chat that includes Josh, Luke, Hank, and me.
What the fuck.
Josh: Veronica. You’re not going to get out of talking to me.
Luke: To us.
Then my heart gets another crush.
Hank left the group chat.
My stomach twists in knots and I feel like I’m going to be sick.
Maybe it’s for the best. He’s setting his boundaries and making it clear. We are over and he doesn’t want or need any further communication.
I drop the phone on the couch and pull the blanket up tighter to my chest. I try to tune out everything except the idiots on the show who are being strung along by a traitor.
