I had to pee.

My feet slid from the warm sheets and collided with the cold floor.

When I'd finished, I stood at the sink letting the sensation of the blistering water rush over my senses.

I glanced up momentarily and startled at the strange figure in the mirror. Her features were sharp and skin gaunt. Her greasy hair erupted from a bun that looked liked it'd given up days ago.

With one finger, I tore the rubber band loose and the remaining hair coiled limply around her shoulders.

I stared at the exhausted hair tie in my hand until I absently flung it and watched as it skittered across the tile floor.

My hands still dripping, I shuffled back into the bedroom. On the nightstand was a mug of coffee and a note written in Tom's neat handwriting.

I took the coffee and left the note.

The mug was cold to the touch and the acidic liquid disagreed with empty stomach.

In the kitchen, I emptied the cup in the sink. There was one already sitting there, presumably Tom's own cup from this morning.

My ribs ached as I imagined Tom going through his morning routine alone. His evening routine, too.

At least he can escape during the day.

I left the cups in the sink and turned to return to the bedroom. My eyes skipped over the calendar hanging in the entry way barely taking in the photo of a snowscape—

I stopped in my tracks and slowly turned to look over my shoulder. Sure enough, the month's picture featured a pine forest blanketed with snow.

I shook my head. It wasn't possible. There was no possible way it could be, and yet the month's name clearly read 'December.'

The room began to kilter then and I staggered back to the safety of the bedroom.

My nails dug in to the wood of the doorframe as I attempted to support myself.

December.

But Alice... it had all just... where the hell had time gone?

My eyes lifted to the unmade bed waiting for me.

December. Six months since July, since Tom & I...

With greater effort than my weakened muscles were prepared for, I pushed myself from the doorframe and stumbled forward. I just barely caught the edge of the bed before I lunged for Tom's note I'd left discarded on my nightstand.

Meeting with the board this afternoon. Won't be home late.

Love you,

Tom

A tear rolled from my cheek and dotted the scrap of paper.

"You don't deserve..."

I crumpled the paper in my hand before chucking it in the bin.

I changed my underwear and pulled on a stiff pair of jeans. I knelt beside the bed and pulled out the duffel bags Tom had tucked there the night I returned from Kerry.

I ruthlessly yanked my hair into a pony tale and affixed a baseball cap over my head. But immediately I felt as if I were drowning in memories of her and her sparkly knit cap.

"You didn't deserve this either," I murmured.

I slung my arms into my old winter coat and stepped into my boots. I hadn't been outside since... but I assumed it'd be necessary.

That's all I could focus on—what was necessary.

And at the top of that list was protecting Tom.

I couldn't save her, but I could save him.

Save him from me.

💕