How To Move On

A N T I C I P A T I O N

There was a chill in the air outside. It was a cold Friday evening, but it was warm inside the Parisian restaurant. The lights were a cool orange, there were beautiful impressionist paintings on the walls, and a girl was waiting for the love of her life.

I sat at a little table for two. This was where he asked me to be his, I thought to myself. So many of our memories together were made here, our own petit city of love.

The seat on the other side of the table was empty. But he would come soon. It didn't matter how long I'd wait to see him; I've been through 8 long years of sacrifice and commitment for him – a few hours meant nothing.

I was in my favorite dress. Sleeveless, knee-length, sky blue at the top, turning darker as the fabric went down until it reached a midnight blue hem. Of course, I wore it to what should be an important day for us.

I scrolled through my phone to pass the time. Mostly, I looked at pictures of us from all the years we had been together. I relished all the smiles, all the happy moments we shared. Just the right thing to do, to set the mood for what was sure to come. I daydreamed about the pictures I would put in my phone after that night; the joyous exclamation of affirmation when he'd bend down on one knee, and the beautiful gown I'd wear when we exchange our vows. At that moment, I could already feel myself living those moments. They all felt so real. I just had to wait a little longer. His ring will find me soon, I assured myself.

The waiter came when I had been in the café for almost 2 hours. He asked if I was sure that I still didn't want to order anything. I told him that I was still waiting for someone. I guess it was obvious on my face that I was blissfully at peace with waiting, so he just gave me a sliver of a smile, and went back to work.

Another hour passed. I was just about to send him a text when he came in through the doors, as handsome as ever. His eyes searched through the restaurant, until he finally found me sitting at my corner. I gave him the sweetest smile. He didn't smile back, just a tense face that I couldn't quite figure out. I assumed that it was just the nerves. Of course, he was nervous. I was too, but I guess I was just too happy to see him that I almost didn't feel anything else.

He made his way to me. We made our usual greetings, with the exception of him not kissing my forehead, which he always did when we meet. Just the nerves, I guessed. I saw a little bulge in the pocket of his jeans, and I instantly felt even more excited. Just a few more minutes and the ring in it would be on my finger.

I waited 8 long years for the moment that was about to unfold.

"I have to make this quick", he said. He sat down, took my hand, and reached for what was in his pocket. I just watched and listened, like a puppy adoring her owner. But it wasn't a ring that was in his hands. It was the blue bracelet I gave him on our first anniversary. He hastily put it in the palm of hand. I was confused.

"Wh-Why are you giving it back?" I asked, smiling still.

He took in a deep breath. He looked at me, straight in the eyes, and I listened to every word.

"I...Cassia, I um. I can't do this anymore. I think, no, I feel, I don't love you anymore. This has gone too long, it has taken me too long to tell you the truth. But, I'm not in love with you anymore. I-I'm sorry."

I pulled back from his clutch. A single teardrop fell from my eye, and I tasted the salt on my lips. At the back of my mind, I threw away the joyous affirmation that should have been said, if he had told me something else.

"You're kidding, right?" I ask, now with a hundred more teardrops falling. "This is all a joke!" I smiled through the tears, trying to look for the prank in all of it. You don't break up with the person you love just like that, right? I'm struggling to see through his brown eyes, if there's any flicker of the man I love, waiting to tell me that it's just a joke.

"I'm sorry." The grave expression on his face told me that it was real. It was all too real. Next thing I knew, he was out of the café in less than a minute, rushing down the steps that lead to the street. And with him, he brought all our years to the cold asphalt of the road.

My mind was both a thunderstorm and a blank slate. No words are enough to describe the tear I felt in my chest.

And I watched, hopelessly, as mylover opened the door to his car, kissing the girl that hid there while heswiftly broke my heart.

x

If you liked this, please give it a vote, and feel free to comment on whatever you feel about the story - it would mean a lot to me. Merci beaucoup et je t'aime!