Page 99 of No Place Like You

“No,” he urges, gripping the sides of my face. “I told you, you’re my home. And this is…it’s killing me just the same.” He pauses to swallow a lump in his throat, and when he talks again, it’s raspy and weak. “But we’re going to figure it out, Lucy. We have to.”

When I finally look up at him, I realize he’s having as much difficulty saying goodbye as I am. He may be keeping his composure, assuring me with future visits and focusing on the silver lining of our separation, but all of that’s just on the surface.

I nod, a sad up and down motion of my head, and his hands stay cupped to my face. “You should go,” I say softly.

He looks up at the gate, where the line of people boarding has started to grow thick. “We’ll talk to each other soon.”

We part, our fingers refusing to let go of each other until we have no choice but to pull apart. I watch as he stands in line, taking occasional glances back at me, and then he disappears.

45

Dexter

I’ve watcheda lot of those apocalyptic movies like zombies taking over the world or some other end of world type calamity, leaving behind only a smattering of survivors and life. But they never show what life after a catastrophe is like. The movie usually ends, leaving those moments where people have to pick up everything and somehow go on with their lives behind scrolling credits.

It’s the aftermath.

That’s what this feels like. Walking into my empty apartment, too quiet and dull without Lucy’s presence, feels like I have to pick up the pieces of my heart and learn to live my life without her in it.

I already got a message from her, a quick snapshot of her in her window seat with the light streaming into the cabin. She looks so beautiful with the light reflecting off her glowing skin. And her sweet smile makes her look even more stunning, regardless of her red-rimmed eyes and inflamed tip of her nose.

I wander through the living room, looking at parts of my apartment. Like where she sat on my couch, editing her photos on my laptop. Or at the kitchen counter, standing in front of the microwave while she waited for a bag of popcorn to finish popping. I can’t even bear to look in the empty spare bedroom. It’s too much to see how she no longer occupies the space. I’ll never be able to look at that room and not feel the gaping hole in my chest.

I walk into my room, where my sweatshirt is draped over the edge of the bed. It’s the one Lucy wore a few times. I run my fingers over the material. It feels cold and bare. I bring it to my nose and take a deep inhale. While it doesn’t feel like her anymore with the coldness taking over the warmth she weaved into the fibers, it smells like her.

How did I end up here? I feel so lost and empty.

I sit at the edge of my mattress, hoping the feeling of my own bed will help something familiar course through me. Something that reminds me I’m home and I should just settle back into my life as it was before, but I can’t. Everything feels out of place.

This isn’t home.

I’m back at the office Tuesday morning, still feeling a little discombobulated with the time differences and jet lag. I stopped by the nearest Starbucks on the way into work, ordering Lucy’s usual order with the assistance of the handy dandy order sticker in my wallet. It’s one of the things that makes me feel like I have some kind of connection to her from two thousand miles away. I’ve already sent Lucy a screenshot of my drink and a quickI miss youtext message. I’ve refrained from telling her just how much I miss her. HowI want to quit my job and move across the country to be near her. Even go as far as demanding space in her full-size bed and the apartment she shares with her roommate. Maybe even partaking in ownership of the cat.

“You got a tan.” Margaret, my boss, eyes me curiously before she fixes her gaze on her screen, where I emailed her a file of data for her to review. She called me into her office for a quick catching-up since I was gone for almost a week. “Where did you go?”

“Hawaii,” I answer with a nod. “I was the best man at my friend’s wedding.”

She smiles warmly. “That’s nice.” We stay silent a moment longer as her eyes return to her screen. “Everything looks good here. We’re going to have our weekly staff meeting today instead of Thursday, so bring the material with you so you can present it to the team.”

I nod again, a little curter than intended, and shut my laptop I had open on my lap.

“Was everything okay with Jacob filling in?” I ask, hoping there were no hiccups while I was gone.

“Yes, everything was fine,” she answers. “But I’m glad you made it back in time for this week. We have a few things we need to cover before month end and while Jacob’s been great, we need you here.”

I smile politely. “Just let me know if there are any adjustments you need me to make on the report, and I’ll go over them before the meeting.”

“Great.”

I stand to leave her office, but when I get to her door, I turn back to face her. “Actually, Margaret,” I say hesitantly, watching her fingers tapping a mile away on her keyboard. “I, uh…”

She stops typing and crosses her arms in front of her. “Was there something else you wanted to discuss?”

I run my fingers through my hair. “Just something I was curious about,” I answer, unsure if this is even okay to broach. “There’s nothing set in stoneor anything really even happening yet, but…” I pause, considering backing out. But with the distance between me and Lucy eating away at me, I can’t just sit here, thousands of miles away from her, and not make any sort of plans. “I was wondering about transferring.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Transferring?”

“More like relocating. Los Angeles,” I clarify. “Like I said, nothing’s been decided, but there have been some changes in my personal life. And I know we have a fairly large branch in Los Angeles, so I would like to have the option if needed.”