Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 52976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
But curiosity is a powerful thing.
And it isn’t long before I’m doubting the artificial closure I created for myself to say goodbye to West. I guess continually lying to myself wasn’t a great long-term plan after all.
So of course, not two restless nights later, I decide to take Mrs. Shaheen up on her offer. Under the lame-as-fuck pretense that I’m going out for a late night walk, I head to my old building, ascend the stairs, and enter the very unlocked door to 313. The floors of the dark room creak under my footsteps as I slowly meander around the unfurnished space, now and then stopping to gaze at spots, reliving memory after memory. Some of them make me smile. Some of them make me frown.
All of them make me sad.
I go to the window with the fire escape. It’s there that I decide I’ll do it. I pull out of my pocket a candle I bought at half price from a Halloween store—it’s black with orange stripes—and a box of matches. I set the tall, awkward candle on the windowsill, balance it carefully, then pull out a match.
Then I stand there and just stare at the candle.
I can’t bring myself to light it. Let alone strike the match at all.
Maybe I’m afraid to prove he’s gone for good.
“You don’t have to do this alone, y’know.”
I whip around, the sudden voice shocking me. At the doorway stands Byron, eclipsing the pale fluorescent light spilling in from the hallway. After a moment of what I take to be pensive staring, he leaves the doorway and saunters across the room to my side. When the light from the alleyway outside shines on his warm, caring smile, I find myself thankful he followed me here.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“Really,” he goes on, “as if I wasn’t waiting for this to happen. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist coming here one last time.”
I smile thoughtfully at him, then glance down at the match and the candle, uncertain. “I’m pretty sure this … won’t actually accomplish anything. Other than perhaps helping me to move on. I just …” A heavy sigh escapes my lips. “I never got to say goodbye.”
Byron places a hand on my back. “I know.”
I consider the candle for a moment, its black and orange stripes that spiral down its narrow shape. It was tucked away on a shelf at the store like junkyard debris, sitting next to a purple skull-shaped candleholder and a box of peppermint incense. This candle never meant to be anything more than a last-minute decoration at some post-Halloween party. But standing on this windowsill, it becomes my last hope. It becomes my everything.
“I used to not think much of Halloween,” I admit to Byron. “It was just a filler holiday on my way to getting gift cards from relatives in December. I’m not even that big a fan of candy and chocolate.” I smile to myself. “I guess all of that’s changed now. It’s our wedding date. Our anniversary. West’s birthday … and death day.”
“We’ll make more memories, too,” says Byron. “It will become a day of celebration for many reasons. You won’t forget West. I promise.” He tucks me against his side, squeezing. “Hey, I’m not greedy. I can share our special day with your best friend.”
I peer at Byron. “I wish you could’ve known him.”
“Me too.”
With that, I decide to kill the anticipation by taking the match, striking it, then bringing to life a tiny flame at the end of that cheap Halloween candle.
Together, we turn and face the apartment.
I’m strangely unsurprised to find no one there.
Even if a miniscule, hopeful piece of my heart was desperately wanting to be proven wrong.
“You want to say anything to him?” suggests Byron as we gaze into the apartment, only barely touched by the small candlelight. “Maybe he’s listening.”
I know he isn’t listening. I know he’s gone for good and far away from this miserable prison he was kept in. If I say anything, it’s just to comfort myself.
But I indulge Byron anyway. “Westley, I … I just wanted to say …” I feel so foolish, talking to nothing. “I just wanted to say I miss you already. But I’m happy for you, too. I hope you found Nina. I hope you aren’t stuck in someone’s nut sack. I hope wherever you are, there’s an endless supply of cold refrigerator pizza, beer, and all the big, bouncy boobies you can imagine.”
The silence of the apartment is piercing.
I was pretty sure the bouncy boobies part would do the trick. I guess I was wrong.
“Do you need some time alone?” asks Byron. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do,” he decides before I can answer. He lets go of me after a quick kiss to my cheek. “I’ll give you some time alone. Take as much as you need. I will go to Spooky Beans and check on a few things. Come and meet me when you’re done, alright?”