First Frost

FIRST FROST

BACK THEN

Everett

" M r. Anderson?" My boss at Eads Financials steps into my doorway. "Do you have a minute?"

"Sure." I shut my laptop. "How can I help you, sir?"

"I'm recommending you for a huge promotion."

"Honored to hear that, sir."

"Unfortunately, the position would require you to leave our little location here and move to New Jersey of the outskirts of New York." He hands me a file. "We're willing to pay your relocation fees, and I hope your girlfriend will convince you to take it."

"What makes you think she has a say in my decision?"

"Funny." He pats my shoulder and laughs. "Take your time reading the fine print of the offer and let me know what Dahlia says. I'm willing to talk to her anytime."

"Thank you, sir." I wait for him to leave my office and pick up my phone to call Dahlia, but she's already sent me a message.

Dahlia

Can you meet me at Friedman's for dinner when you get off work today?

It's an emergency.

W hen I make it to Friedman's, Dahlia is sitting alone in a corner booth.

"Hey." I kiss the back of her neck. "What's the emergency?"

"It's a big one…"

"I'm sure." I smile, taking a seat across from her. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." She nods, but the pained look in her eyes gives it away. I mentally run through the calendar.

Her finals were last week, and she wasn't prepared, but I stayed beside her during the all-nighters and quizzed her until she felt confident.

So, maybe this "emergency" is about that.

"I really hope I passed my Statistics exam," she says. "I struggled with all the historical data questions."

Okay, definitely that.

"Here." I decide to change the subject, handing her my promotion folder. "Read this."

She doesn't take it; she stares at it, and then lets out a slow, unsteady breath.

"I can't be with you anymore."

"What?"

"I want you to be happy."

"I am happy."

"For the long-term."

"Since when I am not your endgame?"

"Since this morning."

Silence.

"Dahlia, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I'm tempted to drive her to the E.R. and have her head examined. "You were fine last night and when I talked to you this morning. What's changed?"

"Please don't try to talk me into staying with you." Her tone is colder than I've ever heard it. "We can't be together anymore."

"So, you're cheating on me?" I clenched my jaw. "How long and who the fuck is he?"

"I would never cheat on you, Everett. Ever."

"Then what the fuck is wrong with you?"

The entire restaurant falls silent. Dahlia's cheeks redden, and she stands to her feet.

"Please don't make this harder than it already is." Her voice cracks. "Please. Stay." She starts to walk away, but I follow her outside.

"I'm not a goddamn dog." I grab her elbow and spin her around to face me. "I've been with you through fucking everything—good, bad, tragic, and the least you can do is tell me what you've done that […] means we have to be over."

"I love you enough to let you go."

"Dahlia…"

"Fine. There's someone else."

"No, I don't believe you," I say, shaking my head back and forth. "Tell me the truth."

She stands there with tears in her eyes before releasing a heavy breath.

"It is the truth, Everett. I've been bored of our routine. I felt like I was starting to go crazy, so I went to Nashville, and I ended up meeting someone. It wasn't on purpose."

"You're lying."

"We had an instant connection. I'm sorry that I hurt you, but that's why I'm telling you now. We would have broken up eventually…"

Her words hang in the air for several seconds before settling against me and stabbing pieces of my heart.

I can't think of shit to say. "Thank you for telling me."

"You're welcome."

O ur breakup was a gradual unraveling.

We kept things cordial in front of our mothers; I still stopped by the garden to help her for a few more Sundays, but I immediately agreed to take the job in New Jersey.

I stopped sending her more flowers or notes; she stopped calling to tell me about her day.

It hurt to hear her name, to see her face.

I shared my first flight away from home with Leo and my mother and furnished my apartment in dull shades of grey.

I didn't want to see a single flower or any colors that might remind me of Dahlia.

The first year without her was the hardest.

The second was easier.

The third was when I met Carmen and tried to convince myself I'd moved on.