With the icy wind biting at my skin, she left me there, alone. The bitter northern wind howled, cutting through my jacket like it wasn’t even there. Yet, she expected me to walk home, barely dressed for the cold.
By the time I reached my apartment, my fingers were stiff, and my face stung from the relentless wind. But that wasn’t the worst of it. By the time I reached home, the distinct scent of someone else’s perfume still lingered in the air—one that certainly didn’t belong to me.
I opened the windows to let in the frigid, cleansing air and began packing my things. It took less than an hour to gather everything Odessa had left at my place: clothes, makeup, books she claimed she’d read someday but never did.
By the time I finished, I had delivered every last item next door to her apartment.
Her place, as always, was pristine and untouched. Not a trace of me remained there, just as it had been from the beginning. Odessa never allowed me to leave anything behind—no toothbrush, no sweatshirt, not even a stray pair of socks.
That is, except for one glaring inconsistency in her closet—a pair of men’s underwear that didn’t belong to me. She must have been in such a rush that she forgot to hide it.
It took me the rest of the day to restore my home to the way it had been five years ago. The couple’s items we bought but never used—trinkets meant to symbolize a love that never saw the light of day—I had them hauled away by the junk collector.
By the time I was finished, it felt like everything had been reset. Aside from the door I walked through, Odessa and I were right back where we started—at square one.
Just as I was about to call a contractor to undo the renovations we had made together, Odessa came home.
“Leif, why haven’t you been answering your phone or replying to my messages? I went out of my way to have dinner with you, and now I have to pick you up too?”
I glanced at her, noting the faint red marks under her collar. My voice was flat as I replied, “I’ve been busy. Cleaning up the place. Didn’t check my phone.”
She scanned the room, her expression quickly souring. “Busy with what? I cleaned up this place just yesterday.”
“Throwing out some things I don’t need.”