Page 3 of Bewitched & Bewildered
At least my friend, Otis, doesn’t have the nerve to show up today. I’m here to pick up the last of my things, and I was hoping to do it alone. My ex being here is a jump scare—but of course, she can’t give me this one moment of peace.
Vanessa and I are in our newly abandoned home. When we moved in, we made itours. I had my jarred herbs and charmed trinkets, and she had her crafting table. It was my home for nearly a decade.Shewas my home.
It’s empty now, and so are her dark eyes. The last boxes are in my truck, waiting to follow me home.
“I guess this is goodbye,” Vanessa says.
She doesn’t have a right to cry—or maybe she does, but she shouldn’t do it in front ofme. A tear rolls down her cheek.
My jaw tenses as I look away.
Vanessa has always been beautiful, with chocolate brown hair and a statuesque figure, but her beauty doesn’t strike me like it used to. Her tears bring up frustration in me, not sorrow. There was a time when I couldn’t see her eyes water without crying myself. Times change. The old urge to cradle her and tell her everything will be okay is gone.
It’s not okay. Nothing is. She may have lied to me, but I won’t do the same to her.
“Yup,” I say. “Don’t worry. You won’t be seeing me again.”
“Don’t say that.”
Isn’t that what she wanted? You don’t end a relationship this way without knowing it’s final. We can’t be friends. It won’t be an easy breakup. Not for me.
“It’s true,” I say. “This is how it’s supposed to be.”
We met in college, and even though I had a group of friends, she became my comfort person in a new city. We were friends for years before she kissed me, waking me from the bumbling stupor I was stuck in.
That kiss made me realize there was something more, and when I did, my heart opened. The rest of our life began—or so I thought.
Vanessa and I had a lot in common, but we’ve always had some differences. The main one is the most obvious. I’m a witch, and she’s… well, she’s not. She’s a human. That wasn’t what got between us.
I don’t knowwhatI did. Sure, she cheated, but I still don’t understand what drove her to that.
Maybe it’s not for me to understand. I spent long enough blaming myself. It’s time to move on.
“Right…” Her voice is small. “You’ll drive safely, won’t you?”
I can’t feel bad for her. Vanessa has friends and family. Other people can help her through the breakup. I can’t be one of them, and she can’t be the one for me.
She can’t know I’ve spent every day of the last year alone, trapped in my shoebox apartment. I’ll never tell her about the nights I spent crying over her. Now, a year later, I’m ready to let her go. The papers are finalized. All I have to do is get in my truck and go.
“I’ll do my best.” I take a step back, eager to leave.
My last words should be more poetic. There’s more I want to say. Does she regret anything? Will she miss me? Where did we go wrong? We’ve rehashed the conversation a thousand times. It’s not worth it anymore.
It’s time to let her go. If I hang on much longer, I’ll have rope burn.
“Ozan…”
I pause with my hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?”
“You were a good husband.”
I flinch. “Don’t…”
It’s not like I can return the compliment. While parts of our relationship were good, I don’t want to dwell on them any longer. That will make me miss her again.
I open the door, and a burst of cool wind flows in.
“If you need anything…you know where to find me,” she murmurs.
