chapter 8
Dana got off the air two hours ago. It was now midnight. She was sure Sam was done packing.
She was sure he was gone by now.
She waited at the station as long as she could, but she was tired and sad and wanted to go home, just not home to the one she shared with Sam.
Dana packed up her stuff and shut down the computer. One could only surf the internet for so long. She closed the door to her office and saw Vincent the janitor vacuuming the floors.
“Goodnight Miss Dana,” he said, tipping his cap.
“Goodnight, Vincent.” Dana forced a smile and went downstairs. She looked around and found George, the night security guard asleep in the kitchen. Great security, she thought, waking him up.
She tapped his shoulder. “Hey, George.”
He shook in surprise. “Musta dosed off. Yes, Dana, are you ready to go to your car?”
“You know the routine, George.”
George was an older, ex-cop who did night patrol. Since Dana got off the air so late, she always had George walk her out to her car. She was scared to go alone.
He took her to her sleek red convertible.
“Thanks George, see ya tomorrow.”
“You drive safe now,” he replied, closing her door for her.
Dana started the car. Its soft grumbly engine was reassuring. She’d had the car for five years. It was one of the only stable things in her life. She drove home slowly, dreading entering her empty apartment.
She was right to feel that way.
The silence that greeted her when she opened her front door was a heavy reminder of Sam’s absence. Dana was used to the hum of late night TV coming from the bedroom and Sam’s sleepy hello. The silence she encountered was overbearing.
Dana slowly walked into the bedroom, not quite ready for what she knew would greet her. Half the walls were bare, Sam’s photos gone. She opened the closet. It too was half-empty. Sam hadn’t left a shred of evidence that he had lived there. Dana sunk into the bed. On her pillow was an envelope with her name printed on it. Perhaps he wanted to say one last goodbye. Her hands trembled as she opened it.
Inside were his keys.
Two copper keys.
It was as cold a goodbye as one could ask for. She had expected more from him. After all they had been living together, it was serious.
Dana slipped out of her clothes and into the shower. She let the hot water beat down on her back.
And she cried.