Till Death do us Part

I Lived to Love You

Returning to Detroit was a somber affair. I let us in my apartment, knowing it was home, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like it.

Not anymore.

“I’m going to make some hot chocolate,” I said, as Kevin stood in the middle of the room, seeming lost.

“Okay.”

With nothing else to say, I ambled into the kitchen and ripped open a packet of cocoa, actions vigorous with the injustice of it all. There had to be a way I could bring him back. It wasn’t fair!

I shoved the mug of hot water in the microwave, folding my arms across my chest and leaning back against the counter. The steady hum of the microwave sounded out from behind me. As usual, I didn’t hear Kevin moving around. He may have been realer, but he wasn’t alive.

And he probably never will be.

I gritted my teeth at that wretched thought, yanking open the door of the microwave when it beeped and grabbing a spoon, swirling my hot chocolate. When I was finished I more or less through the utensil into the sink, hearing it clatter loudly. I nursed the mug in my hands, wandering off to find Kevin.

“Kevin?” I called, when I’d searched the whole apartment and couldn’t find him.

 A knocking sound came from behind me and I whirled around, seeing him outside the window. I frowned. What was he up to? Honestly, it was late, I was tired, and sad, and pissed at the world, and I just wanted to go to bed.

He beckoned me toward him. I set aside the hot chocolate and did just that, opening the window. “What are you doing, you nutcase?”

Instead of answering he grabbed my arms, hauling me up. We were second to the roof of the cheap apartment complex. He stood me beside him.

“Whoa,” I whispered, staring up at the sky. Stars, everywhere. I’d never really taken the time before to just look up at the sky and, well, look. But I did.

“I used to love the stars,” Kevin informed me. “Sometimes I would drive miles away, just to get to a place where it could only be me and the stars.”

I grinned up at the sky. “They’re beautiful.”

I felt his gaze heavy on me. “Yeah, you are.”

I blushed, glancing sideways at him. “Smooth.”

“I thought so.”

He walked behind me, hesitant and a little unsure. He waited a moment, pondering his actions, before sliding his hands down my arms and wrapping his own around my waist.

“It’s a little weird,” he voiced.

“But a little great,” I finished. And his silence was an affirmative of that. I leaned my head back in the crook between his shoulder and neck, sighing. “Do you ever miss her?”

“Who?”

“You know who. Angelica.”

“No. I miss what we once had. I miss simpler times. But I don’t miss her.”

“Oh.”

“You still sound disappointed. I thought that was the right answer.”

I turned in his arms and pressed my cheek against his chest. He was warm, delightfully so, but there was no heartbeat.

Real, but not alive.

Yours, but not.

“When do you leave?”