His smile. Him playing guitar. The way his eyes would sparkle or darken with emotion. Him hugging Acorn. His body on top of mine. The feather against his hair.
How could he take all my favorite things in life away from me? Everything I looked forward to each and every day—just stripped away from me. I know that he must know what this feels like. In fact, I believe that he knows exactly how it feels to have everything I need and want and love so much stripped away without the slightest warning. He’s forced me to quit cold turkey and live without the high that being with him gave me.
I huddle under the tarp for hours, hoping and waiting for Blue to show up, but he never does. Exhausted with defeat and chilled to the bone, I walk back to my car, not even having the sense of mind to care that I’m walking around after midnight, in the middle of a dark road like a zombie. Numbness overtook logic hours ago.
I’m dragged out of my stupor the moment I open my apartment door to a horribly putrid smell. I gasp when I see the mess before me—dog poop and garbage strewn all over the living room and kitchen. Acorn is cowering in the corner and Archie is perched high on his cat tree with an expression of severe judgment and disapproval.
Oh my God.
I kneel next to Acorn, who’s trembling with what I can only guess is a mix of guilt and fear.
“It’s okay,” I soothe, stroking the soft fur between his eyes. “It’s not your fault.” I coax him into the backyard so he can get some air while I clean up the mess. I can’t even be mad at him because it’s my fault for leaving him alone for so long. I don’t know if Acorn’s ever lived in a house before, and now that I’m forced to think about it, he’s probably not used to being alone, either. Blue took him everywhere. Having a dog in my life is going to take some getting used to, but I’m not going to abandon Acorn like Blue did. I have no idea why he left his dog—his best friend—with me. Hopefully because he thought we needed each other, which is a lot easier to accept than the possibility that he’s a selfish bastard who didn’t care about either of us.
It takes me a while to scrub the stains out of the carpet, and I surpassed exhaustion hours ago. The new sheets on my bed are covered with the scent of Blue and the memories of our night together, so I crash on the couch to escape. I’m jolted awake by the doorbell. With a leaping heart, I run for the front door and swing it open to see my parents and sister with balloons and a flowering plant. Blinking at them, I wonder what kind of sick joke this is that they came here to celebrate my broken heart with colored balloons.
“Happy housewarming!” Courtney exclaims, throwing her arms around me. “I miss you already.”
Oh shit. How is it Sunday already?
Forcing a smile, I run my fingers through my knotty hair. “Come on in.”
“Honey, you look terrible,” my mother comments, placing the plant on a small table next to the front door. “Are you sick?”
“You have a dog now? When did you get a dog?” my father asks, prompting Courtney to run to Acorn and fall to the floor next to him.
“Oh my God he’s so cute! What’s his name?”
My brain is in a fog from lack of sleep. “Um, he belongs to a friend of mine who asked me to take care of him. His name his Acorn.”
My mom is still looking at me with growing motherly concern, and reaches out to touch my forehead. “Piper, what’s wrong? You’re pale and blotchy.”
“I just have a bad cold, and I haven’t been sleeping well.” I hate lying to people. Especially my parents. “I’m fine, though. To be honest, I forgot you were coming and I overslept.”
Her smile wavers. “We don’t have to stay, we just—”
“No, Mom, it’s fine. I want you guys to stay. Really. Just give me a minute to go wash my face.”
From the safety of my bathroom, I can hear them whispering about me, and I cringe when my father suggests I might be hung over. Does he honestly think after just a few nights of living alone I’d start drinking?
“You should have a deadbolt on this door,” my father says when I return to the living room. “I’ll bring one over and install it one night during the week.”
“Okay. This is a nice neighborhood, though.”
“You can’t be too careful. The dog is probably a good idea. Does he bark if he hears a noise outside?”
I can’t recall ever hearing Acorn bark, not even when the doorbell rang, but I’m sure he must, because dogs bark at all sorts of things. “I think he does.”