Page 106 of Where We Fall

Last night, I really tried to consider what Chloe told me to. Should I go back to Marcus? The fact still remains: I can’t give him what he deserves. If I feel like this now after weeks with him, what will it feel like after years when we are at a crossroads and have to end it?

I’dneversurvive it.

If I thought I could come back to Cleveland eventually, even five years from now, it wouldn't even be a question in my mind. I just don’t see that happening. I can't predict when my mom will pass, nor do I want to put myself in a position where I get to be with the man that I love when she does pass. That would feel too much like waiting for it to happen.

The tears threaten to come while standing here watching the movers, so I grab my coat and walk outside. The cold fall weather is feeling more and more like winter.

The wind whips through the streets, causing an instant chill throughout my body.

I walk around the complex grounds as I drink my coffee. I know it might sound ridiculous, but when I’m having intense thoughts and don’t want to think about them, I count my steps.

I’ve heard that’s a bit of an OCD tendency. Whatever you want to call it, it helps me.

Somewhere around six hundred steps, I realize my coffee is gone. I always take slow steps, so it’s probably been twenty minutes. I don't know if I've ever counted for that long. It's a testament to how messed up I am in the head right now.

I walk back to the front of the building and see the guys carrying my dresser. The truck is already halfway full. Somehow, in the six hundred steps that make me sound like I need some serious mental help, they’ve managed to accomplish a lot.

The guy I spoke with earlier sees me. “We will probably be done in the next twenty minutes.”

“Wow. You guys work fast.”

He smiles. “That’s what they pay us to do.”

I give them another ten minutes before I walk back upstairs. The sight is eerie. Everything is almost gone—the life I built here, gone in an instant.

As I walk around the place, the heaviness I felt in my chest last night is magnetized by a hundred.

This is it. I know I decided to leave everything behind, including the man I love, but what if I’m wrong?

What if it’s not the right decision? What if something happens in the next couple of years that opens up an opportunity for us to be together, and we won’t have the chance because I gave up on us?

The thought is enough to paralyze me right where I stand.

My mind starts racing. Should I call him? Should I go to him? Will he even listen?

“Ma’am,” the mover interrupts my minor freakout. “We are all set.”

He holds a clipboard in front of me. “I just need you to sign this.”

I don’t even read the contents of the paper. I sign it and hand it back to him.

“The truck is scheduled to arrive at the storage unit in approximately six hours.”

“Thank you.”

He walks out of the apartment, leaving me alone in the family room. I guess there’s nothing I can do now. I have to hit the road so I can beat the truck there.

I pull out my keys, take the apartment key off, and place it on the island.

I open the front door with shaky hands, trying to hold in the tears.

“Marcus,” I breathe when I see him standing in front of me.

“Hi,” he gives me a small smile.

“What are you doing here?”

My heart is about to beat out of my chest. I notice the strap on his shoulder holding up a bag.

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