Ad Finem Amore

October 2012.

The rain was coming down hard, blurring the neon glow of the Chicago skyline through the loft’s floor-to-ceiling windows.

I stood on the balcony, letting the cold mist hit my face. This was the graveyard of my memories. Her voice, her laughter, the phantom scent of vanilla, the way her green eyes used to light up right in this exact spot.

Fuck. I can’t do this anymore. I was drowning in my own head, and I was dragging innocent people down with me.

I collapsed onto the damp outdoor cushion, sparked a cigarette, and cracked open a beer. I stared out into the storm, waiting for the inevitable.

The sharp chime of the doorbell sliced through the sound of the rain. It’s echoed through the quiet apartment. I didn’t need to check the peephole.

“Come in! You still have the key, Gaby!” I shouted over the rain.

The heavy metal door clicked open, then slammed shut with a heavy thud. Soft, hesitant footsteps approached the glass doors behind me.

“You really love it out here, Daeron.”

I didn’t turn around. “... Yeah.”

She stepped out into the cold and sat on the cushion beside me, pulling her jacket tight. She looked at me for a long time before speaking.

“You really still love her, don’t you?”

My chest seized. The familiar, hollow ache started to throb behind my ribs.

“I just realized something,” she whispered, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hand. “Despite everything we did... in every corner, on every piece of furniture in your loft... this balcony is the only place we never touched.” She looked out at the rain. “This is the only space where you always sit alone. With that sadness in your eyes.”

My breath hitched. She knew. She had figured out that I kept the balcony sacred.

I took a long, trembling drag of my cigarette, pulling the toxic smoke deep into my lungs, hoping it would burn away the guilt before I exhaled.

“I’m sorry, Gaby.” My voice was hollow. “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you.”

She turned to face me. The city lights caught the reflection in her brown eyes. “For what it’s worth... I’m glad you were part of my life, Daeron.” She offered a sad, heavy smile. “You never treated me poorly. You always made me feel beautiful. Even though I knew... I knew it was empty.”

The ache in my chest turned into a sharp, twisting blade. I closed my eyes, unable to look at her pure, devastating empathy.

“Still. I thank you for everything.” She stood up.

I moved to stand up with her, but she shook her head.

“I left your spare key in the usual bowl,” she said softly, glancing back toward the bedroom. “And I left your hoodie on the bed. Well... I gotta go.”

She smiled brightly, masking the pain flawlessly.

“It’s pouring out there, Gaby. Let me drive you back.”

She shook her head again. “Andrew is waiting for me in the parking lot.”

A bitter wave of respect washed over me. Andrew was taking care of the mess I made. “Good. Let me walk you down, at least.”

“Don’t.” She reached out, pressing her small hand flat against my chest to stop me. “If you walk me out... I’m afraid I’ll never have the courage to actually leave you. Let me have my closure right here. Because...”

The brave facade finally cracked. Her eyes filled with tears, turning into crystal under the balcony lights.

“...because I really do love you, Daeron.”

The blade in my chest twisted violently.

“Farewell, baby,” she whispered.

She gave me one last, blinding smile, turned around, and walked back into the loft. I watched her silhouette move through the dark apartment until she vanished behind the front door.

Fuck.

I fell back against the brick wall. It wasn’t heartbreak I was feeling; it was pure, suffocating regret. I had taken a pure, innocent girl and tainted her just to numb my own pain. I broke her because I was terrified of facing my own shadow. I ruined her just to keep the illusion of my first love alive.

I pulled my phone from my pocket. My thumb scrolled through the chat history. Hundreds of green text bubbles. Unanswered. Sent into the void toward my hope, my illusion, my ruin.

God, I miss you.

I had become a monster after she left. The scent of her vanilla perfume was finally completely gone from the loft. And now, I was truly, completely alone.

I chuckled. It was a dark, broken sound. I lit another cigarette, inhaling deeply to numb the stabbing pain in my ribs.

“Just like old times,” I muttered to the empty balcony. “Look how far you’ve fallen.”

Once, I was just a boy who fought to protect the people he cared about. I was a boy who thought he was going to get the girl he loved.

Just like three years ago. The first time I met her.

Jessica.