My arms are lined with goose bumps, my stomach in complete knots. I've been up for hours, terrified to see Wilbur, to have to finally tell him the news I've been dreading. I'm tired and stressed and nervous and scared. I pace the kitchen, working on cookies to send him with. Maybe it can ease his pain just a bit.
I pull the pan out of the oven and place it on top of the stove. I mix food coloring in with homemade frosting then glide a good layer onto each cookie, each one looking rough because of my shakiness.
"Whatcha making?"
I spin around to see Wilbur standing in the doorway. I'm immediately brought back to months ago, when he would lean the same way in my front door when we hated each other. And soon enough, he'll hate me again. "Oh, uh, cookies. For the plane ride and for your mom."
"Mmm, she'll love them." Wilbur steps to stand next to me and places his hand on my cheek. "I'm so excited."
I quickly change the subject. "Let's go ahead and start packing now that you're up. Let's do your stuff first. You have less stuff."
He chuckles. "You alright? You're talking super fast."
I nod. "I had coffee. Now come on, let's pack."
My second attempt to delay our break up doesn't last too long. It doesn't take too long to pack his things; all he has is some clothes, music equipment, and books.
I tape up the last box and dramatically sigh. "God, I'm exhausted. Can we take a break?"
"Of course," He grins at me and sits on the couch. "Let's watch our last movie together in here."
I frown and sit next to him, knowing he can't know that this is our last time ever watching a movie together. Or, at least, for awhile. "Let's not talk about that."
As Wilbur turns a movie on, I dangle my legs over his and rest my head against his chest. He pulls a blanket over us and wraps his arms around me, his chin on top of my head. I want to stay awake and enjoy this with him, but since I'm still tired and relaxed against Wilbur, I soon fall asleep.
He gently shakes me awake, the credits rolling on the screen. I groan and look up at him. "You shouldn't have let me sleep. I wanted to watch that with you."
"Oh, it's fine. We need energy to pack your stuff up."
Again, I have to make an excuse up to procrastinate. "Can we go ahead and drop your boxes off to ship them? We might as well, your boxes will fill up your car and won't have room for mine anyway. Just take mine later before the airport."
Wilbur grins and gives me a weird look. "Uh, alright, sure. You gonna stay here and start packing?"
I shake my head. "It'll be faster if you have help. I'll go."
We both stand up and I go get Wilbur's car from the garage and bring it up in front of our building while he brings boxes down. I open his trunk and back doors and pack it full, feeling more and more exhausted and sick as the day goes on. We sing along to the radio on our way, and seeing I don't feel good, Wilbur has me stay in the car while he brings everything in. Within the next hour, I'm breaking up with him. I feel nauseous, overheated, and lightheaded.
After around half an hour, Wilbur gets back in the car and starts it. He looks over at me, concerned. "Baby, should I take you to the doctor, or something?"
I quickly shake my head. "No, I'm fine. I think the tour is just catching up to me."
"Alright," He reaches over and keeps his hand on my leg as he starts the drive back. He seems so happy and excited to move, and I hate that I'm about to ruin that. I figured he would dread the move since I thought he hated London, but I guess not.
