Achromatic Adventure

Lemongrass

With Artemis's departure, the atmosphere in the house shifted, leaving behind a palpable sense of emptiness that echoed through the halls like a ghostly whisper. Seren and I moved through each day one at a time, making sure to take some much needed self care breaks in between work and school. Mostly on her part, but I was able to learn a lot about healing watching her deal with all of this.

The bedroom Artemis once shared with Seren now lay barren, stripped of her presence but haunted by the memories of their shared past. Seren avoided the room like a plague, the weight of her grief too heavy to bear within its walls. She didn't speak about it much, but we both knew that room needed some caution tape for the time being.

As for Nash, he seemed adrift in a sea of remorse, his usual bravado replaced by a quiet introspection that bordered on self-flagellation. He spent his days in solitary reflection, wrestling with the demons of his own making as he searched for redemption in the wreckage of his mistakes. He was clearly grateful that Seren knew his true intentions, but he wasn't sure how to work through all of this and focus on his tenure at the school without his usual nights out. After showing up to our house drunk, he seemed to want to slow down on that side of things. He was embarrassed, which I mean, he should have been.

And then there was me, caught in the crossfire of their tumultuous emotions, torn between my loyalty to Seren and my desire to see Nash find his way back from the brink of despair. I hated what he had done, but now that I knew he wanted to do better, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. I knew how close he and Seren were before Artemis came along, and I know how deeply they felt for each other romantically. It was hard to see the two of them pass each other in the library or in the hallways, they looked like two souls that were connected and yet so distant all at once. I found myself playing mediator more often than not, trying to bridge the chasm that had opened up between them with words of encouragement and understanding. I knew Seren needed time, and I knew Nash needed to get his shit together. But, no matter what I was going to be there for Seren above all else. I wanted her to know she wasn't in this by herself.

In the midst of it all, I couldn't help but wonder what had driven Artemis to betray the trust of the woman she claimed to love. Was it a moment of weakness, a lapse in judgment fueled by desire and regret? Or was there something darker lurking beneath the surface, something she kept hidden even from herself? How could she sacrifice something she seemed to be so determined to protect all this time? Just like that she went from someone I was warming up to, to someone I wanted to shower with gasoline and set on fire.

I couldn't say for certain, and the uncertainty gnawed at me like a ravenous beast, tearing away at the fragile threads that bound us together when she was around. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, I clung to the hope that someday, somehow, Seren would find a way to heal the wounds of the past and forge a new path forward, stronger and more resilient than before.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the shadows lengthened across the floor, Seren finally mustered the courage to enter the bedroom she once shared with Artemis. The invisible caution tape was ready to be removed and scattered on the floor. I stood behind Seren, offering only moral support, as she placed her hand on the doorknob and turned it. The door creaked open on rusty hinges, revealing a space frozen in time, frozen in the memories of what once was.

A wave of anxiety hit me, I could feel my chest start to tighten as my mind wandered. How can I help Seren through this? How can I keep her from feeling any of this pain?

I tried to quiet my mind as I rested my temple on my hands that held onto the doorframe, watching Seren move gracefully into the forgotten and avoided space.

Her footsteps echoed in the empty room as she crossed the threshold, her gaze sweeping over the barren walls and vacant spaces where Artemis's belongings once lay. But it was the sight of a lone picture frame on the bedside table that caught her eye, a snapshot of happier times frozen in time.