𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘-P A S T

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JOSEPHINE

The smell of cinnamon wakes me. Then ginger. Cardamom. Tea.

My morning chai calls my name. It screams come to me, Josephine, enjoy this symbol of your boyfriend's love one last time.

I will. But not yet.

This has to be right.

Our last morning together needs to stay picture perfect. We both need to take this memory with us.

I move to the bathroom. Brush my teeth. Wash my face. Step out of his T-shirt and boxers and into the chemise he bought me for my birthday.

Ivory satin. Matching trim. Simple, elegant, perfect.

Soft morning light flows through the kitchen windows. It casts the room in a heavenly glow. Warms the air until it's just right.

Hero is leaning against the counter, hands wrapped around his coffee cup, eyes on fire.

His gaze lingers on my chest.

His tongue slides over his lips. "You look like an angel."

"A fallen angel."

"What's wrong with that?" He motions come here.

I do.

He sets his mug behind him. Brushes my hair behind my shoulder. Cups my neck with his palm. "You okay, baby?"

Yes. For the first time in a long time, I am okay. I thought deciding to leave would kill me, but it didn't. It sent relief through my limbs. Washed away every hint of tension in my body. But--"I'll miss you."

"It's only four weeks." He alludes to his internship in New York. The one that starts next Monday. The one taking him away from his life for an entire month. The reason why this is the best time for me to leave.

"Still."

"I'll miss you too." He stares down at me. "But we have our entire lives together after this."

I press my eyelids together. Rise to my tiptoes.

No more talking.

I can't give this away.

I have to leave him with this.

He reads me exactly how I want him to.

His lips brush mine. A soft slow kiss, a kiss of a thousand I love yous. Of affection, compassion, understanding.

I slip my hand under his t-shirt. Commit every line to memory. The jut of his muscles (how the hell does he make it to the gym six days a week with the schedule he has?), the soft, smooth skin, the raised lines of ink. So many more than when we met and they're mine.

Well, in this moment, they're mine.

A sob rises up in my throat.

I swallow hard to keep it down. No sad goodbyes. No tears. No regrets.

I can't do this anymore.

There are so many reasons why I should try, but I can't. It's as simple as that.

I can't do this anymore. I'm leaving. I'm hurting him as little as possible.

One perfect morning.

That's all I'm asking.

And what I'm giving him.

Hero pulls back with a heavy sigh. His emerald yes fix on mine. He stares into me, stares all the way to my soul.

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