Zara brushed her hands along my arms like she needed to warm me up. “You don’t have to do anything right now except get some rest. It’s the weekend and then everything’s going to be closed for Christmas.”
My stomach twisted. A Christmas I was supposed to spend with my new boyfriend opening the presents I’d gotten for him and finally getting to see what he’d gotten me. “You’re right.” I nodded and climbed onto the bed, getting under the covers still wearing my clothes. My energy was zapped, and there wouldn’t be much I could do until after the holiday.
She was still in the room, but I stared off into the distance. Snow began to fall again. It stuck to the windows before melting against the glass and dripping down in streaks. Some gathered at the corners, piling up.
“I’m going to order you some soup and a sandwich. Why don’t you take a shower and get into your pajamas? You’re still in your clothes from tonight.”
Snapping myself out of it a little, I lifted the sheets and stared down at the hunter-green dress I’d put on for our big Christmas date night. Had I chosen the color because of him or because Christmas was right around the corner? Either way, I needed it off. I dragged myself out of the bed and grabbed my bag.
Opening it, I stared at the contents I’d shoved inside. Perfect, I had ten pairs of underwear, three t-shirts, one sweater, a pair of pajama pants, and a pair of jeans I’d been meaning to get rid of because the muffin top was getting out of control. At least I had enough for me to figure out where I went next. In a moment of clarity before I’d left I’d rushed into my room to get my laptop.
Taking a t-shirt and pajama pants, I went into the bathroom and closed myself in the floor-to-ceiling glass shower. It was a lot like the one in our—no, his bathroom. Working like I’d forgotten how to use my limbs, I stepped under the spray and let the water roll down my body, trying to warm up.
This would be the perfect time for a bath in the deep tub on the other side of the bathroom, but I didn’t have the energy and would probably fall asleep inside it.
However long I was in there, it was long enough for Zara to knock on the door and announce the food had arrived.
My fingers were waterlogged and wrinkled. I dried off and dressed, not wanting to see my reflection. If it was anywhere near as rough as I felt, I didn’t need the visual.
In the room, Zara had the food set up on the desk and stood beside it while I sat, like a babysitter expecting me to dump it all over my head.
Chicken noodle soup and a ham and cheese on a crusty roll. Basic and beautiful comfort food. After barely eating my dinner, I was hungrier than I’d expected. Maybe my body was trying to fill the hollowness in my chest.
“It’s a big sandwich.” I offered Zara half of the monster-sized meat and bread combo.
She took it and nibbled on it, probably only taking it to make me feel better.
We both ate in silence. The warm broth and chicken chunks helped settled my stomach, trying to undo some of the damage from too much wine and my boyfriend accusing me of being a homewrecker.
The tears welled back up in my eyes, blurring the food in front of me. I set the spoon down.
“I’m finished.”
I climbed back into bed, curled up into a ball, and pulled the blankets up to my chin.
Zara clicked off the lights. The bed dipped beneath me, and her hand ran up and down my back. “I’ll be here tomorrow.”
I flipped over. “Zara, no.” Even though I’d just had half a bowl of soup, my voice sounded croaky and on the verge of being lost. “There are only a few days left until Christmas. I’ll be fine by myself.”
“The room’s in my name and it’s not like you can stop me from visiting.” A small, sad smile lifted the corner of her lips. “You might not want to talk about it, but I want you to know you’re not alone, okay? Just because I’m Hunter’s friend—although I’m thoroughly reconsidering that right now—it doesn’t mean you’re on your own, okay?”
My throat tightened. “Thank you for everything, Zara. I swear I’ll pay you back. The next check I get—”
“Nope. I don’t want to hear about it. It’s not costing me anything other than my time, and you could use it. We’ve been through the Cat Embassy Pub Crawl trenches, we’ve got to stick together, right?” She leaned over and hugged me tight.
That happier, insanity-filled night felt like it had happened in another lifetime. Then, I’d felt like my design career had finally had a big break. I’d been spending a night out on the town with my oldest friend and a new one, and my reunion with Hunter awaited me less than twenty-four hours later.
“I’ll put the tray outside so it doesn’t smell up the room, and you’ll have breakfast delivered in seven hours. Get some rest, Sabrina.”
I looked at the clock on the nightstand: 12:01a.m. The day felt like it had been a week long.
“Tomorrow. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”
I nodded, knowing if I tried to speak, I’d burst into tears again.
Zara left and the whoosh of the heater and distant sounds in the hallway made me feel like I’d never been more alone. For once, I wished for the pounding drum solos coming from Hunter’s room. But his room was across town in the apartment I used to call my own. And now I was here with my head throbbing, trying to figure out what came next.
38
Hunter
Instead of spending Christmas morning with Sabrina, watching her open the presents I’d gotten her, I’d sat in the armchair in the living room, staring at the twinkling lights that only a few days ago had felt so magical.
I ripped the plug out of the wall and sat with the darkened tree while I finished the last of my not-tar-like coffee. The kind that sent caffeine blazing through my veins and made me feel like I could lift a truck. The kind I’d gotten used to when Sabrina got to the coffeepot first. The kind I missed.
Sabrina hadn’t come back to the apartment. I’d sent her a message, but she hadn’t responded and my phone calls went unanswered. It was all for the best, right?
Less than a week ago. It felt so long ago, but it had been fewer than four days since she’d walked out.
The numbness was better. Her handwriting was scrawled on little notes sticking out from the tops of the boxes under the tree, although we were the only ones with presents down there.
Where had she gone when she left? Was she safe? Maybe it was best she hadn’t responded to my calls or messages. What exactly was I supposed to say to her?
But I needed to know she was safe and sent another message.
Me: Just let me know you’re okay
The bubble popped up and disappeared a few times but no response came through.
She hadn’t come for her things yet, which gave me hope, but did I even want it? This was why I had stayed away from entanglements and relationships. The worry. The fear. The desire to change things that were immutable facts of life. The endings.
I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts aside. I needed to bury them deep down, and soon I wouldn’t worry about her. I wouldn’t want to know what she was doing, wouldn’t want to hear her laugh again. I wouldn’t want to sleep beside her at night.