Shadows & Spells

KELLY

“Oh God, no, no, no, no.”

My stack of papers didn’t listen to my pleas. They slipped from the manila folder and scattered across the grimy elevator floor.

My hands were full of schoolwork, laptops, and a to-go cup. All I could do was watch as my papers fell into a dark, sticky mess that I hoped was something harmless, like Dr Pepper.

The only other person in the elevator, a cute blond guy from the third floor, glanced over his shoulder at the mess just as the elevator dinged.

He made a face, his expression clearly saying you’re ~out~ ~of~ ~luck~, then stepped out and turned right.

What a jerk.

I blew my bangs out of my face and let out a long, much-needed sigh. Was it Friday yet?

Between a difficult committee member demanding more evidence for my dissertation and my sophomore class being the biggest bunch of jerks I’d ever taught, today was definitely one of the worst of the year.

The only good thing was that it was a nice day for November in Seattle. I hadn’t needed an umbrella, and I wasn’t freezing, so that was something.

The elevator dinged for my floor, and I stuck my foot in the door to keep it from closing.

I set my stuff down outside the elevator and scrambled to pick up my freshmen’s midterms, only to discover that the sticky mess was definitely not Dr Pepper.

Carrying the worst day of the term in my arms, I walked to my apartment and tried the handle, hoping it was unlocked. It turned, and I pushed the door open.

“Damn it, Chad,” I muttered. It had worked out for me today, but would my boyfriend ever learn to lock the door when you live in a bad part of Seattle?

I slowly put my stuff down on the entryway table and slipped off my shoes. Then I noticed something strange. The foyer was...clean. I called out.

“Babe, did you clean up? We should definitely have sex right now.” I added a laugh to show that I was half-joking, but not really if he was up for it.

I listened for a response as I hung up my jacket. Nothing. The dishwasher was running in the kitchen. I glanced at my watch. Six o’clock.

Chad would have finished his classes around four, and he always got home before me unless he went out for Friday night drinks with his med school friends.

I walked into the living room of my one-bedroom apartment and called out again. “Chad?”

“In here, Kelly,” he replied.

I turned the corner and saw him sitting on my old, comfy faux-leather couch. I was speechless. The apartment was almost spotless. Chad never cleaned.

It wasn’t that he was messy, but cleaning up always seemed to be my job.

“Baby, let’s open the wine, because you are definitely getting lucky tonight. I. Am. Turned. On.” I said, emphasizing each word and wiggling my eyebrows.

I walked over to the couch and leaned in to kiss him. He grabbed my hands to stop me.

That’s when I really looked at him. His eyes were slightly red, and he looked sad.

I recognized that face. My own face twisted in concern. “Oh God, who’s hurt? Is your mom okay? Or is it Lisa? I’m sorry. My phone died around fourth period.”

He shook his head. “No, Kel. Everyone is fine. It’s not that.”

I nodded, but my heart was already racing. “Okay, okay, good. So, what’s going on?”

He tilted his head and opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked down at his feet, took a deep breath, and tried to hold back a sob. His hair fell over his face, hiding him from me.

Confused, I looked around the apartment for an answer.

His laptop and textbooks were gone from the desk; his shoes and scarves were missing from the coatrack; his dirty laundry was no longer scattered around the hamper.

He hadn’t cleaned. His stuff was just gone.

I looked back at him. He was still staring at his shoes.

“Babe, where are your things?” Tears welled up in my eyes, and my heart felt like it was trying to run a marathon.

He finally looked at me, his mouth still open.

Oh no. He was leaving. He couldn’t even say the words.

“Kel, it’s not working.”

A sob escaped me, and I shook my head in disbelief, trying to hold back the tears. “What? What do you mean? We...we’re happy.”

My heart was pounding now. It felt like it was trying to escape from my chest. I had to put my hands over it to keep it in place.

God, my heart hurt, and my hands weren’t helping. Tears filled my eyes and spilled down my cheeks.

Outside the window, the familiar Seattle rain started to tap against the glass.

He shook his head. “I haven’t been happy for a while. I think you know.”

“I...we...you never said anything. How am I supposed to know if you never say anything?”

We said “I love you” every day, we had great sex every night, and we lived in relative peace in my tiny, crappy apartment while we both went to grad school during the day.

How did any of that say unhappy?

“I just... This doesn’t make sense,” I choked out between sobs.

I watched him, still sitting on the couch, his hands clasped together. He looked torn.

He wasn’t sure. Maybe I could fix this. I wanted to. Chad felt like home. I didn’t want to lose another home.

“Chad, I just... I think you’re making a mistake. I love you, and I... I feel like we’re ‘right.’ I just...” I shook my head one last time, the sobs subsiding a bit. “This doesn’t make sense to me.”

He stood tall, radiating a newfound confidence. “I know, and I’m sorry. We had a great two years, but I just don’t feel the same anymore.”

I lifted my head from my hands, looking up at him. I could only imagine how I must have looked—my auburn hair a mess, my face blotchy, my eyes wild with disbelief.

His green eyes met mine, filled with a sadness that mirrored a puppy’s. It was clear he had already mourned the end of us. There was no turning back. He’d already played this scene out in his head.

Our relationship had ended earlier today, and I wasn’t even present for it. I was busy teaching a bunch of ungrateful students while my world was falling apart.

“I think I should leave,” he said, his voice shaky.

“No! Wait. It’s late. You can crash on the couch and move your stuff tomorrow.” I gestured towards the window, where the rain was now coming down in sheets. “It’s pouring outside.”

I paused, suddenly realizing I hadn’t seen any of his belongings near the door or outside. Where was his stuff?

He was still staring at his feet. “No, Kel. It’s okay. I appreciate the offer, but I think it’s best if I just leave.”

“Where are your things, Chad?”

He finally looked up, meeting my gaze. “I moved them to a friend’s place. They helped me earlier today. I’m going to stay with them for a bit.”

I noticed his careful avoidance of gender-specific pronouns. My heart started racing again.

“Is… Is there someone else?”

His face briefly showed guilt before hardening. There was definitely someone else.

“No, I am not cheating on you. Now I need to go. I left my key in the bedroom, and I’ll call you in a few days, okay?”

My sobs returned as he turned away and walked towards the door. The sound of the door closing felt like a punch to the gut.

I clutched my chest, trying to soothe the ache that had settled there.

I sank to the floor, curling up on the rug and surrendering to my tears.

I can’t believe this is happening.

Chad, the man I’d loved for two years, the man I’d supported through med school with my teaching assistant position and research job…

My best friend, my confidant, my lover, had just left me for another woman.

I was blindsided, my vision blurred by tears.

I let out a wail, my cries echoing off the floor. Above me, I could hear the faint hum of electricity in the ceiling light, the room growing slightly brighter.

I ignored it, letting my body react however it needed to.

Another woman. Chad was undeniably handsome, with his high cheekbones and sun-kissed hair. But it was his intellect that had always drawn me in.

Was it his lab partner? She was beautiful—petite, dark-haired, and on her way to becoming a doctor.

I was tall, athletic, with a fair complexion, and I was also on my way to becoming a doctor…of botany. How could I compete with her? Did I even want to?

Another wail escaped my lips, though I barely registered it.

The humming grew louder, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Sharp shards pierced through my thin shirt, jolting me out of my sorrow.

The room was plunged into darkness, the rain outside pounding against the windows.

I lay there in the dark, listening to the storm outside while my heart slowly calmed down. The race was over, and it had definitely lost.

After a few moments, I managed to steady my breathing. I wiped my face on the rug, then pushed myself up to a sitting position.

The faint glow from the kitchen night-light revealed the shattered light bulb on the floor.

I wiped away the last of my tears, letting out a frustrated sigh at the sight of the broken light fixture.

Damn, I hated being a witch.