The veracity of her claims was proven by the unusual darkness and bagginess under her eyes. She was still the most beautiful person to me… But she looked beyond exhausted, undeniably so. Staring at her, I thought about the concept of ‘unconditional love,’ about prioritizing her wishes over my own.
After a long, tense while of me mulling over everything, I nodded in acquiescence and she looked relieved. In truth, it wasn’t enough. Maybe someday. But for now, all I could do was learn how to live within the confines of reality, within the circumstances of existence. “‘Some things are more precious because they don’t last long,’ right?”
“You’re seriously the only person who’s ever quoted that book back to me.” She drew me into a hug and I luxuriated in the sparks I felt. “Right, but also… ‘Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic.’ That’s all this is, Cass-this is just our tragic something.”
My chin tapped against her shoulder as I nodded. Even if doing so hurt, I eased our embrace and let her go. “What happens now?”
“I’m gonna take a photo of Stanley for my group chat to serve as a ‘modern-day vitals check’… Then we can go grab a late lunch? ‘Cause I’m starving.” I agreed with her plan, and she ran toward the pond and took a picture of the ducks. Afterwards, we walked to the parking lot, back to her Jeep.
“That’s why you call this place ‘Stanley’s Park’… I get it now,” I mentioned, amused despite how broken I felt inside. “Which one is he?”
“I have no idea anymore. He used to be the littlest one, but that was a while back, so I’m sure he’s all grown up by now. For all we know, he might’ve even transformed into a swan already.”
“You say the weirdest things sometimes.”
“Shut up, you know you love me.”
“That I do, Gray, that I do.”
“Great ’cause I love you, too.”
As of now, my game plan was to take it one day at a time-I planned to go through all ‘seven stages of grief’ for the end of a relationship that never even began.
. . .
“It smells great in here,” Gray said as she entered Apartment 202. She dropped her backpack and kicked off her shoes. Yet again, she was wearing mismatched socks. “Wow, I know you said you were gonna make a special dinner tonight, but this is insane… I feel like it’s my birthday.”
I grinned as my eyes darted to the spread I’d prepared on our dining table. It was by no means a buffet. Just (un-microwaved) salad, pizza overloaded with cheese, green bell peppers and black olives, and cannelloni stuffed with spinach and ricotta. For sure, it was not a Michelin-starred meal, but I was proud of how everything turned out. Like I’d even used a rolling pin to make fresh pasta and my own pizza crust… You know, just to emphasize to Gray that I was, in fact, ‘wifey material’ in case that magically changed anything.
“I just realized we’ve never had a sit-down dinner like this.”
“Thank you, everything looks amazing.” She opened a cabinet and grabbed the expensive bottle of wine Pink Ranger and her girlfriend gifted us during the ‘Farewell to Apartment 202 Party.’ “Perfect night for the fancy stuff.”
I didn’t start eating right away. I wanted to watch her as she took her first bite of each dish. She kept sending me childlike grateful looks. Even when she was chewing with her mouth closed, it was like she was still smiling at me. Her eyes were just too expressive.
“I had no idea you could cook like this. Why have we been ordering pizza all this time?” She demanded. “This is so good.”
“My mom owns a restaurant back home and when I was in high school, I worked for her after class, so I picked up a few things.”
“How come you’ve never mentioned that?” She inquired and I shrugged. Those days seemed like they were part of another lifetime entirely. “What’s her restaurant called?”
“Not important.”
“No, what? If I’m ever in town, I’d love to drop by… If you can cook like this and it’s not your passion, I’m dying to taste your mom’s food.”
“Gray, my hometown is in the middle of nowhere, you won’t ‘drop by’ there for a detour. That’s like my family showing up here randomly. It’s not gonna happen.”
Unperturbed by my logical explanation, she pushed. “Still… What’s the name of the restaurant?”
I reached for my glass of white wine. “Cassidy’s.”
“Yeah?” I looked away, nodding. “That’s actually really sweet… Seriously though, why is this the first I’m hearing about any of this?”
“I don’t know. It never came up and I never brought it up… But that’s why she calls me Cassandra even if she was the one who gave me the nickname Cassidy. According to her, it’s to avoid confusion.”
She asked me more questions about my distant past. I told her I didn’t want to talk her ear off about insignificant things. But she pushed and prodded until I began telling her all about my high school years. Even if rehashing my teen angst era didn’t actually change anything, doing so still made me feel a whole lot better.
When we finished eating, she pushed out her usually flat tummy. She gave her exaggerated belly a pat. “I’m so full.”
“Too full for dessert?” I asked though I already knew the answer. “‘Cause I made mango tiramisu.”
She gasped, fake offended. “You know there’s no such thing as ‘too full for dessert’… Plus, I love mangos.” Her last statement was unnecessary. Of course I knew that already, like why else did I make a mango version? Or use decaf coffee in the recipe? I knew her so, so well. “Give me?”
“I got you.” I grabbed one serving from the fridge and placed it in front of her. Unlike her, I was passing up on dessert because I (sadly) didn’t have her metabolism. Since I couldn’t resist, I hugged her from behind and rested my chin on her head. Her palms found my forearms.
“Once I’m done with the dishes, wanna watch a movie in my room?”
“Not really.” I reclaimed my seat. We were running out of time and I wanted to make the most out of the little we had left. The last of the hourglass’ sand was cascading downwards, succumbing to gravity. “I was thinking if you’re up for it, we can just stay here and talk some more.”
“Yeah, I’d love that.”
. . .
My phone rang. I was expecting it to be my mom, but it was Gray. I hurriedly picked up. Even now, after everything that’d happened, every interaction I had with her still served as a pick-me-up. “Hi.”
“Hey, Cass, you home?” She asked and I answered in the affirmative. “What are your plans today?”
“Nothing really. What’s up?” On reflex, I grinned. I thought she wanted to hang out with me. “You wanna do something?”
“Uh, actually, my family was supposed to drop by the apartment tomorrow, but my dad rescheduled for today. They’ll be there in like an hour… Can you let them in? But don’t worry, I’ll head home right after my meeting,” she explained. “I’m sorry for springing all of this on you.”
“Why are you apologizing? It’ll be great to see your parents again.” She told me that it was just going to be her dad and her sister’s fiance. “Oh.” The rush of pain was immediate. “They’re um- they’re-”
When I didn’t end up continuing my broken statement, she finished it for me. “They’re gonna be picking up the furniture… I mentioned it a couple days ago, remember?” She reminded me, and I pursed my lips and closed my eyes. “Cass? You still there?”
“Mhmm,” I murmured out. “One sec, I’m getting another call.” It was a necessary white lie. “But they’ll be here in an hour, right? Got it, I’m just staying home today, so no problem.”
“Cass, I’m-”
“Sorry, I- I really gotta go,” I cut her off then hung up.
I was being rude, but there was no choice because in seconds, I was bawling my eyes out. I sunk down to my bedroom’s floor. I hugged my knees. With my back against my bed frame, I was full-on sobbing. I told myself to suck it up, I told myself I was acting deranged… But it did nothing to dry up my tears. Roses were red, violets were blue, I was losing Gray and once she was gone, all the colors would be, too. Time to face the facts, Cassidy. Today officially marked the beginning of the end.
. . .
From where I was standing, I could see every part of the cramped condominium unit I was in. Plain and generic, and the only space with four solid walls was its tiny bathroom. When kid-me had dreamed I’d be in a studio once I was all grown up, she didn’t mean studio apartment, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Although I didn’t need to vacate Apartment 202 for two more weeks, I didn’t want to run out the clock.
A few days ago, when Gray’s family had first arrived to pack up the furniture, I somehow found the strength to even give the two men a helping hand… I’d assisted them in lugging out the dining pieces, gray rug, blue couch, glass coffee table, green accent chair and multi-colored armchair. Miraculously, I’d powered through the stabbing, pulsing pain in my chest by going full autopilot. The whole thing was like ‘Tetris in reverse.’ Like long after they’d already formed a complete shape, the colorful blocks that made up my home were all being repossessed, taken away.