Page 114 of Wells

"Yeah. Six months at an ashram in Rishikesh. I'll come back certified to teach, but mostly I just need to clear my head and live simply for a while."

We navigate the last flight. My arms shake when we set it down near the building's front door.

"That's amazing. I've always wanted to do something like that."

I straighten and catch my breath.

"I have, too. It took everything shaking up in my life to push me, but I think everything happens for a reason. It's definitely a bucket list thing."

Her friend pulls a truck up to the curb. Together, the three of us muscle the dresser into the bed. The driver hops into the back and straps it down.

She hands me five twenty-dollar bills.

"If you're selling anything else, let me know. We just got our first place together, and we need things."

"Everything left is going to Goodwill in the morning. But if you want first pick, come back up and take a look. It's all got to be gone by the weekend."

She follows me. I point out the lamp, the side table, and the mirror still leaning against the wall.

"Will you take forty for the lamp and side table? I love the mirror, but I can't think of a wall for it."

"Sure, that's fair. I love that lamp. Good luck with your new place."

When she drives off, I stand on the curb and watch the truck disappear around the corner.

The dresser is gone.

I remember buying it, how proud I was, how I thought having it meant I was building something stable. I polished it every week. Kept it organized. Treated it like proof I was okay.

Now someone else will use it and never know what it cost me.

I walk back upstairs. The apartment is almost completely empty. Just the mattress on the floor for me to sleep on until my flight leaves, the bags for Goodwill, the boxes that are getting picked up for the storage, and a stupid bocce set that Cas says he's picking up.

I run my palm over the spot where the dresser stood, the carpet still dented from the weight.

I would rather have peace than things. I spent my entire adult life filling it with things, making up for the emptiness I experienced as a child. A lot of good that did, leaving me exactly where I was, only with more shit.

Two more days.

My phone buzzes on the counter in the kitchen, echoing more than normal with no furniture to soak it up. I pull it out and see Cas's name on the screen.

My eyes roll involuntarily. I've had to tell him no twice when he's asked me out. The guy can't understand why I have no interest in going down that road with him. I even switched dry cleaners to avoid any accidental run-ins.

I did let him know I was moving and getting rid of everything, so of course he has something he realized he can't live without.

"Hey."

His voice sounds the same. Warm, easy, the kind of familiar that used to make me lower my guard.

"Cera. I was hoping I didn't miss you. I've been so crazy this week. Sorry, I didn't get by. Can I still come get that bocce set?"

"No worries. I'm here until Saturday. The bocce set is here until Goodwill comes tomorrow."

"India, huh?"

Jesus Christ. We already had this conversation over text.

"Yep."