Page 168 of You + Me – Against the World

He peels out, hitting the gas the second the light turns green.

I don’t say a word.

“Listen, I don’t want you to spiral because of Lancaster. I know you loved her, but she clearly wasn’t worth it. You’re out. She bolted. End of story!”

If only it were that simple…

“Pull over here, and I’ll walk the rest of the way. Keep the pickup. We can meet up tonight. Sound good?”

He sighs, then gives in and pulls over.

I’m a churning mess inside. I need to get out of this car.

After walking for just ten minutes, the July heat is already starting to smother me. With a thousand-pound weight on my shoulders, I slowly climb the stairs to my apartment. I slide the key into the lock, expecting to find the place trashed, just like the last time I saw it: cupboard doors flung open and the contents of all my drawers overturned by the cops, clothes scattered everywhere after that last night with Alma.

The last one…

I’m about to explode. I let out a furious scream as I walk through the door, but it doesn’t make me feel better.

Groaning, I take in the sight of my perfectly tidy living room. Every piece of furniture is in its place, my clothes are perfectly folded, and my dishes have been washed and left in the drying rack for far too long. I grab a mug and let it fall onto the tile floor in the open kitchen.

I need to feel something explode.

Then, my arm sweeps across the counter, knocking off everything within reach. Plates, glasses, and silverware crash to the floor, creating a deafening racket. I still don’t feel any better, but I have nothing left to break.

I know she’s the one who did this.

Alma.

Putting my life back in order before she left. Erasing every reminder of the search, of my arrest. Probably to help me, to protect me. But she doesn’t know she also erased every trace of her presence and that, now, it’s as if she never existed.

Is that what you want, Lancaster?

I slump onto the couch, and the envelope in my back pocket rustles. I take it out, smooth it flat with my hand, and place it on the coffee table in front of me. I spend what must be a good ten minutes staring at it without moving. If I read it, it will hurt even more afterward. If I don’t read it, I’ll never know.

But know what? That she loves me but not enough to stay? That she loved me, but got tired of being torn between two worlds? That the pressure from her family was too much? That our differences were too big? That it was nice and all, but she has a father to satisfy, will have a suitable, respectable husband to marry one day, and other ambitions in life than being with a loser like me?

A vise squeezes my heart.

Filled with rage, I clench my fists. I am choked by pride, and torn apart by grief.

I grab the envelope, rip it open, and unfold the pages with trembling hands. My eyes rush over the words, chasing them, devouring them. As I read, Alma’s voice speaks to me. I hear her as if she were sitting right beside me

And that hurts even more.

Vadim,

I’m leaving.

I’m not leaving you—I’m being torn away from you.

You’ll sigh and tell me again that I’m letting it happen, that I had a choice, that I let others decide for me. Actually, no, you won’t tell me anything, since we won’t speak to each other again.

Here is what I chose: to come look at you one last time and say goodbye in silence. Because I know that if I hear your voice, if you say a single word—even just my name—I won’t have the strength to go anymore. I won’t be capable of leaving you there.

Tomorrow is your hearing, where everything will be decided. Guilty or not guilty. Convicted or acquitted. Locked up or set free. I’m already shaking at the thought of the unforgiving justice system that could save your life or take it away from you for so many years.

So, yes, I made a choice. One day, I’ll explain to you how and why. You only need to know one thing: between you and us, I chose you. And for once, I didn’t hesitate.