I wake at 5 a.m. on Saturday after a terrible dream, and I’m angrier with myself than I’ve ever been about anything.

Thank goodness my dorm building remained open over break. Then again, maybe I would have been better off having to stay at Charlie’s – I wouldn’t feel so terrible for what I’ve done to him. I’m also thankful that most of the students haven’t returned to campus; I’m sure I would have frightened someone, carrying my bulk of luggage in last night with bloodshot eyes and a mascara-streaked face. I don’t deserve the good luck.

Charlie texted me three times last night before I fell asleep.

The first was an apology, begging for me to call. The second was just a plea for me to assure him that I’d made it safely to my room. I replied, out of respect, telling him that I was safe. He replied then, a third text, saying that he loved me.

I don’t feel stubborn this morning, not towards him anyway, but I think I’ll be mad at myself forever. I don’t even think it was stubbornness that caused me to leave last night, but I’m still having difficulty finding another reason.

Sure, I could say that I ran away from the conflict, but he apologized. He wasn’t going to keep fighting me. I was embarrassed, of course. He made me feel like he looks down on me, like I’m not only to be taken care of, but also to be maintained. I hated that. I know that he doesn’t think of me like that, though – if he did, he wouldn’t have those shy, worried moments.

He wouldn’t have been so upset when I left, if he truly believed that I need him.

I do.

I start to realize that my reason for leaving so abruptly is irrelevant for now. I need to apologize, and then I need to be ready to go and talk to him when he wakes.

I grab my phone and open our conversation. I never replied after his third text, but I do now.

I love you, I type, I’m sorry for leaving. That was stupid of me. I want to see you in the morning. Just call me when you wake up, please?

I add another “I love you” and send the message. I assumed that he would still be in a deep sleep, so I am surprised when he answers moments later.

I have to go for a run and to the gym – work. You understand. I catch what he’s doing and my heart drops, even though I deserve it.

Before I can reply, he texts again, I’ll just call you after, okay?

I smile, because I can tell that he’s trying to be cold, but his soft heart won’t allow it.

He texts again, seconds later.

I love you.

I tell him again that I love him, and that it’s fine for him to call whenever. He has the right, if he wants to be stubborn now. I’ll apologize as much as I need to. I was ridiculous to leave him, even if just for a night. But I still trust that he’ll call, and want to talk to me.

I brush my teeth, shower, dress, apply makeup, and blow out my hair all before seven. I didn’t even eat dinner last night, but I am somehow still not hungry – and I don’t think I will be until I can speak to Charlie. I make tea and work on homework then, since school is going to be keeping me busy until winter break.

At ten, there is a knock on my door. Something in me tells me that it’s Charlie. Ten is when he would always come by the café, between his run and the gym. Maybe he’s come to pick me up and let me apologize, and then we can spend the day together listening to our favorite records and making food and maybe take a bath.

I’m disappointed when I look through the peephole and realize that he’s not there. I sigh and open the door and do my best to not appear disheartened.

“Hi,” I greet the short, brunette girl in a purple polo shirt and khakis – she looks to be wearing some kind of uniform.

“Hi, are you Stella Henry?” She smiles, speaking in a friendly tone.

“I am,” I respond, returning a polite grin.

“I’m Kristen, I work for residential life, and I’m supposed to let you know that you have a new roommate moving in!” She acts excited for me, clasping her palms together in front of her chest.

“Oh do I?” I try to keep my smile and raise my eyebrows to feign enthusiasm.

“You do! She applied for a room change for next semester, but since her parents are bringing her back from break tomorrow, they asked if she could just go ahead and move in.”

Fantastic, I think, so she’s already had problems with one roommate.

I remind myself that maybe she wasn’t the problem in her last arrangement, while also celebrating in my mind that I don’t stay here much, since I’m always with Charlie.

Kristen continues, attempting to look past me into the room, “So, is her side clear? I know that sometimes people take over both sides when there is a vacancy, which is very understandable,” she chuckles.

“It’s all clear,” I say, “You’re welcome to come in and look around.”

She obliges, claiming that she needs to check the furniture, etc. and then leaves shortly after, wishing me luck with my new roommate.

I go back to working on homework, and wait for a call from Charlie.

At two, I consider calling to make sure that nothing’s happened. Maybe he is angrier with me now than I thought, but my first instinct is to worry.

At three, he finally calls.

“I was worried about you,” I tell him as I answer.

“You were? You shouldn’t worry about me. Hey – I don’t think I can meet you today. The trainer that I’ve been trying to meet with has scheduled me in for the next couple of days. It’s a huge favor that he’s doing me, he’s high in demand and he’s not asking for payment, so I feel obligated to go,”

“Oh, okay. I understand. Where do you have to go?”

“His gym is in Atlanta. I would ask you to come, but you have school.”

Again, I feel like it’s a calculated statement.

“And I was a bitch, right?” I question. I just want him to admit that he’s mad at me.

“I can’t blame you for doubting us. We’re on very different paths. That doesn’t make you a bitch, necessarily.”

“Charlie I don’t doubt –“

“I need to get ready to go now. I’m sorry that I can’t meet with you.”

“When will you be back?” My eyes start to fill, but my voice somehow doesn’t break.

“Tuesday or Wednesday, I think,” and that’s all he says.

“Okay,” and that’s all I say.

It’s quiet for a moment. I feel like I’m in nightmare. Charlie and I don’t fight. Were things just perfect because they were so new? Maybe our beginning was our middle and end, too.

No, I think, I wouldn’t love him if we were only a nice beginning. That isn’t me. That isn’t him, either.

“Stella?” He finally speaks, “Could you just text me before you go to sleep? So I know you’re safe.”

“Sure, I will,” I answer, and I wait for him to say I love you, but he only says goodbye.

I spend the rest of the day doing homework and then I force myself to eat dinner, even though I’m not at all hungry. Campus is quiet, and I feel lonely, but only because I don’t have him.

I call my parents before bed and then I text Charlie. I tell him that I’m going to sleep and ask if he’s made it to Atlanta. He replies quickly, only to say that he’s there, and he tells me to sleep well.

I don’t sleep well, and I have to work early the next morning at Lighthouse. Before I leave my room, I take one last look around, wondering whom I’ll be coming home to tonight.

Mr. Miller chats to me about his Thanksgiving party for most of the morning. He comes closer to cheering me up than anyone else could right now, except Charlie.

At ten, we catch a break in the café, and once again, at the same time as yesterday, I find myself wishing that he would appear.

I reach for Charlie’s ring that hangs from my necklace, touching it just so I can feel closer to him. I’ll still wear it, even if he isn’t speaking to me. As the cold silver warms in my hand, I let a memory play out in my head…

It was the first time that I’d ever seen him. I watched through the front windows as he approached the café in long, steady strides – all from the same stool where I sit now.

It was cloudy for August, but the sun was doing it’s best to keep the day plenty light. The bell tolled on the front door as he opened it, and we caught each other’s eye for just a moment.

It was an important day for me, because it was only my second week at Lighthouse, but my first day working in the café alone. Mr. Miller had to leave unexpectedly to pick up his son who was having car troubles on the way to an important meeting, and Allie was ill.

The day was quiet enough, but the only customer that I’d helped had claimed that I messed up his order. He sat at a table then, a cranky old man, grumbling to himself as he ate his breakfast sandwich.

I remember feeling so intimidated by Charlie at first, he was so attractive and strong looking. I was particularly nervous that day, positive that I would mess up yet another order. I was still so homesick, too.

“Good morning,” I said to him, “What can I get you, sir?” I didn’t look up from the register before me, but I tried to sound friendly.

“Hi,” his deep voice was soft and polite, “I’d like oatmeal, please, and do you think you could add apple slices and brown sugar?”

I nodded and rang up his order, letting him know that it would be right out.

After giving Jimmy his order, I pretended to wipe down the counter, even though I’d already done so twelve times that day. He waited just a short distance from where he had placed his order. It was just he and I – and the grumpy man – in the café. I tried to sneak glimpses of him while I faked cleaning, but every time I started to look in his direction, he did the same, and I would look away again.

Jimmy prepared his order quickly and I gave it to him in a to-go bag.

“Oh,” I suddenly realized, “I didn’t write dine-in on your ticket, did you want to eat here? I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I was going to –“ He is interrupted by the grump.

“You’d better make sure she didn’t mess anything else up before you take that home,” He said, pointing his bony finger at Charlie.

I bit my lip and felt my cheeks turn red.

I remember him glaring towards the old man as he pulled the oatmeal container out of the bag, and peeked inside.

“It’s perfect,” He said, placing it back in the bag. He turned towards me then, “Thank you. Have a nice day.”

He didn’t smile as he turned from me, he never really smiled at first, but it was still the nicest thing that anyone had done for me since I’d moved to Clemson.

The literal ring of the bell pulls me from my memory, and I look up to see a happy, familiar face – Allie.

“Hi!”

We both greet each other happily at the same time.

“Well, hello Allie. In on your day off?” Mr. Miller asks, looking up from the newspaper that he’s reading.

“I am. I have exciting news and I couldn’t wait until Tuesday to tell you both,” Allie has already walked around up to the counter in a hurry. She bites her lip and holds up her left hand, which wears an engagement ring.

“Oh my god! Congratulations!” I jump up from my stool and step towards her, taking her hand over the counter and examining the ring.

Mr. Miller joins me, pulling his glasses from his shirt pocket so that he can get a better look. He must be looking for details, because the diamond itself is huge – you wouldn’t need glasses to see it. Allie has never mentioned her boyfriend’s financial status, she isn’t the type, but I collect that he must be quite comfortable.

“It’s so gorgeous,” I say, still staring down at her hand.

Mr. Miller chuckles beside me, “That it is. See? I told you – people will surprise you.”

“I was so surprised. I thought he was ready to bolt, but he had only been acting strange because he was so nervous…”

Allie continues to tell us about how he proposed, and what he said, and where they were. I’m so happy for her. She is one of the sweetest girls I’ve ever met, and I know that she loves her boyfriend very much, but the way that she talks about her now fiancé just makes me think more and more about Charlie.

Mr. Miller asks Allie if she’s made any plans for the wedding yet, and while her attention is focused solely on him, I quickly glance at my phone to see if I’ve missed any calls or texts.

Nothing. He hasn’t texted or called all day. I sigh and try to return to the conversation without making my sadness apparent. I don’t want to ruin Allie’s day.

When it’s time to close, Jimmy and I make sandwiches for ourselves for dinner, and I pack them into to-go bags for each of us as he finishes cleaning and closing the kitchen. Mr. Miller has already left for the night. Jimmy and I say goodbye and head our separate ways after locking up.

Once I get into my car, I think I’m going to cry – but I don’t. My sadness is suddenly buried by the uncomfortable realization that I won’t actually be alone tonight.