Time After Time

“When do you think you will come back down?” I ask cautiously, slowly swallowing each word as I spoke. My hands folded and unfolded the same pair of red socks, the last thing I need to pack. I’m standing at the foot of the bed, with an open carry-on suitcase sitting in front of me. Ben is staring at the computer screen with his back to me, scrawling down the number of the airport shuttle service.

“I don’t know yet, I will have to check my vacation hours…” He trails off, with an unconvincing and reluctant answer. We both know he’s lying. “Your shuttle should be here at ten.”

“I’ll have some time off in the beginning of --” The phone rings. I shut my mouth, with the tangled words I didn’t say evaporating into the cold, grey room. Ben picks up the phone and stands up, glancing over once to look at my suitcase before stepping into the entryway.

“Hello?” I hear him answer, muffled through the corners of his San Francisco studio apartment. My heart starts to throb faster in my chest, my pulse rising. I shove the sock into the suitcase and quickly zip it up before he returns. Checking the clock, I notice that his bedside clock has been stuck at 9:20 for the past fifteen minutes. I reference my cell phone, and realize that it was already quarter to ten. Jumping up to check the bathroom one last time, I overheard Ben in the hallway.

“No, I have a guest over…” He says softly, rushing the person off the phone.

I feel a visible hole start to grow in the pit of my stomach, and I clutch it in one hand, holding my cardigan together to cover the developing pit. Open medicine cabinet behind mirror, check. No toothbrush, no toothpaste, no mundane domestic object to gesture that I may have ever been here. The mysterious pink clip still sits on the ledge of the first shelf, the remaining specks of worn away glitter wink at me. My stomach lurches again as I slam shut the cabinet, almost a little too hard as Ben peeks in following the beep signaling the hang up.

“Are you okay?” He asks, eyes darting around the bathroom before finally resting on me. I turn my head towards him but keep my fingers clutched around my cardigan.

I nod. “I’m fine.” I brush past him, back out into the main room. In a swift moment, I set the suitcase on its little rolling feet, and slinging my leather bag onto my shoulder. I quickly button up my cardigan before I stand up straight to face him.

“I’ll just head down there now,” I say briskly, heading towards the door. He steps aside and observes me without expression. As he starts to follow me out the front door, I turn to him and press a hand to his chest. “I think I should be okay from here. I’ve done this several times already.”

“Are you sure?” Ben uncomfortably rubs the back of his neck with one hand, his other resting on the doorknob.

“Yeah.” I reply, nodding assuringly while feeling the hole tunnel up my chest. He purses his mouth to one side, looking me in the eye questioningly. “Yeah,” I say again, softly, nodding my head and turning away from him towards the elevator.

I press the button, and then turn to look at him standing at the door way. “By the way,” I start, as the elevator door opens. “Your clock’s stopped.”

He looks startled by the remark, startled that this is all I had to say to him in this moment where we both knew that this is probably the last time we would ever see each other again. “Oh, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. See you later, Ben.” I say, stepping into the elevator and pressing the Lobby button. I wave, awkwardly, as the doors close and I can hardly believe that this is what our past five years had come down to. I guess we’ve run out of time.

(681 words)