When I wake up, Hughes and Maryann are gone.

"Mary?" I start up from the armchair, stretching my arms, letting out a satisfying yawn. I don't get an answer, but I can hear someone moving about in the kitchen, making kitchen sounds – clinks and clanks and the sort. I wander towards it.

"Mary?"

Maryann is standing by the counter, beating something in a steel bowl. She looks towards me. "Hi."

I nod my head at her. "What's that?"

"Brownies." Maryann grins.

"At ..." I look at the kitchen clock. "1 in the night?"

"Yeah, why not. It's not like I can sleep anyway." Maryann has insomnia.

I nod. I walk towards her and give her a kiss on the cheek. "Okay, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

I take the stairs up. Aristo sits on the top of the staircase like a creepy mascot. I step over him carefully and go on to my room, making sure to close my door properly, because I would never sleep again if I woke up and saw Aristo staring at me from of the darkness.

My room looks a lot better now. I cleaned it thoroughly. There was a lot of gathered dust behind the closet. I still haven't replaced the curtains, so that needs to be done. My pink suitcase is completely unpacked and is sitting behind the door now. The book I'm reading, something I picked up at the airport, is on the bedside drawer. It's about a divorced woman's journey to self-love. I love novels like those. The bedsheets, which I changed earlier today, look fresh and crisp, and when I lay on them, I feel nourished.

I don't feel very sleepy, though, so I pick up the novel, and continue from where I've left off. But I can't exactly focus either. My mind keeps slipping away. I resignedly put the book away and turn towards the window. The curtains are pulled to the side. I can see the colored roofs of the other houses among the withering green tops of the trees. I wonder if it snows here? Where I grew up, it never did. It was a city, and it was always hustle-bustle there. No time for snow. Trees stayed green throughout the year, except for when it was the middle of the year, and their leaves would become orange and crunchy. It was a good place to grow up. There was a shawarma place right by my house, where I went with my friends once or twice a week in the evenings. My school was a five-minute-walk away. There was a drive-in theatre 20 minutes away from my house, that served sushi and hot-dogs and cotton candy, and a library nearby to that. A marvelous mall that'd opened up when I was in my teens – bowling alleys, bookstores, arcades, fancy-looking cafés, stores that sold pretty clothes. I spent hours aimlessly wandering them with my friends or whoever I was dating at the time.

With Hughes, I went to the corniche a lot.

He liked to take strolls or bicycle by the water. He liked to get donuts and coffee from the café nearby. His house was close by to the corniche. He had a rich-looking house, with lots of flashy furniture and big, framed paintings. His family was the kind that got dressed up and went to the photo studio annually to get a family picture clicked. Hughes didn't like his dad. He called him Hitler behind his back. His grandmother was called Hitler's mom. He liked his mom alright. But he complained that they all loved his older sister more. Although I couldn't understand why. Hughes was always very responsible.

Yet he wasn't a serious person. He laughed easily and could make others laugh, too. He knew how to have fun. He was always composed. And he always knew what he was going to do next. As soon as he graduated, he left. Went somewhere that would take a day to fly to, and started his university there. I wrote many sad, sappy stories the month he left.

I would go to the corniche sometimes, after he left. And it would feel so pointless without him. There were always people there, but it felt deserted. Hughes was a part of that scene, that life. He completed it. I felt like leaving, too. I didn't want to stay there anymore.

But it wasn't like I could go after him, either.

When I graduated, I got an offer from a university in my city that I simply couldn't refuse. It was a reputed institution, too. So I stayed. Hughes never came back. I saw pictures of him at his graduation ceremony. He looked just as beautiful as ever. I heard through mutual friends that he got a proper job there.

I was living my life to the fullest back home. I'd completed my major, and I'd worked with several independent productions as well as with advertisers. I bought an apartment with my roommate a few hours away from where my parents lived. The girl I was dating at the time was sweet and liked to travel. She had a dog, Bruno, that I loved. I was content. I wrote a lot. Made money off of it. I liked living my life. I loved the people around me.

Hughes, it felt like, had gone off to a distant planet.

We hadn't spoken at all in over a year. Our birthdays were four days apart, and mine came first. I waited for him to wish me. Just a simple happy birthday would have sufficed. Radio silence. I was in a shit mood because of it for a week. I didn't wish him on his birthday either. We had no reason to talk anymore, I suppose.

I gathered Hughes just wasn't attached. To me, to the city we grew up in, to his childhood home. And what kind of person does that make him?

*

I wake up. Freshen up – take a shower and all that. I go downstairs, Maryann's gone. There's a note stuck to the fridge. I made brownies. It's the same recipe as college. And then she tried to draw a winky face, but it ended up looking demonic. I smile.

What should I do today? My job at the bookstore starts on Monday, and it's only Thursday today. I would tidy up the house, but I think Maryann would kill me if some small thing was not in the exact place she left it.

Aristo slides by the side of my leg. I sit down and stroke his chin.

Maybe I'll just get out and explore the town? But that seems a little risky. And I don't even have my own means of transport. That's when it strikes me: curtains. I'll go out and buy the stupid curtains!

I go up to my room again and start getting ready. I call Maryann.

"Hey, you guys got a good furniture shop around here?"

"HUH?" There was commotion on her end.

"FURNITURE! CURTAINS! I WANT CURTAINS!"

"KURTIS?"

"NO, CURTAINS. CURTAIN."

"OHH, CURTAINS." Then Maryann was moving away from the noise. "Yeah, uh, there's a HomeBox, but it's far. How are you gonna get there?"

"How far?" I ask.

"Twenty minutes if you drive."

"Okay, that's, like, an hour's walk, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but, like, you're not doing that."

"Why the fuck not." I pause from blending concealer over my dark circles.

"Because it's not safe, you little clown."

"Maryann..."

"Sabine. No. I'll get Hughes to come pick you up, how about that?"

"No, absolutely not!" I snap.

"Why not? Aren't you two all buddy-buddy now?"

"No." I say.

"Okay, then, sit at home. We'll go together in the evening."

"No! I wanna go now. I have nothing to do at home." I say. "Can I clean up? Like I'll organize your – "

"Absolutely not." Maryann says. "Don't move anything."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I figured."

"I'm calling Hughes." Maryann states.

"Maryyyyyy, nooo." I moan, but it sounds so unconvincing, I can't even convince myself.

I get put on hold. A nice little tune plays. I put my phone on speaker and set it down on the countertop. I finish with my concealer. I dab on a little mascara. I leisurely put on my pinkish lip balm. It tastes like watermelon.

Maryann calls me back. "Okay, he's coming in an hour or so."

"Mm, okay." I say. "Thanks..."

"You're – "

"... for nothing."

Maryann half-scoffs half-laughs. She hangs up.

*

A loud car honk alerts me of Hughes' arrival about half an hour after the call with Maryann.

I look out the window. Hughes' car is parked across the street, under the shade of a tree. His window is rolled down; his arm hangs out of it, a cigarette between his fingers.

I head downstairs. Make sure everything's off. Maryann left an extra set of keys on the shoe rack. I grab them and then step outside. Just as I'm locking the door, Hughes drives up to the front of the house. I meet his eyes when I turn around. He lets out a billow of smoke. I feel the nerves hit my stomach. But I'm steeled. I put on an uninterested face. Hughes offers me the cig after I get into the passenger seat.

I wave it away.

"Did you quit?" Hughes asks me.

"I had to." I answer.

"Huh?" Hughes is confused. I just shrug my shoulders. "Shall I put it out, then?"

"Yes, please." I say.

"Okay, ma'am." He obliges, putting the cig out on the ashtray between us.

"Do you not have work today?" I ask as he starts driving.

"I do."

"You don't have an office or something you go to?"

Hughes laughs. "I do. But I don't have to go every day."

"Oh." I say.

"And you?" Hughes asks. "Don't you have an office to go to?"

"Nah." I say. "I freelanced for a while after college, then I did take up a full-time job, but I quit that."

"Oh, why?"

"Just ... stuff."

Hughes narrows his eyes. We continue to make idle talk. He talks about a project he is currently working on. It all sounds very technical and intelligent. He asks me about my projects – and though, I'm reluctant, I start talking about some of the film projects I've worked on. He doesn't look away from the road once but stays completely engaged in the conversation. I look at his toned arms as he drives. What would he say if I asked him to kiss me right now? He would be confused, at first, then he would ask me why I wanted him to kiss me. I wouldn't have a reasonable answer to give. He wouldn't stop driving throughout the conversation. We would pretend like it never happened.

"Sabine!"

I zoned out. "Yes. What."

"We're here." He nods towards the store we're parked in front of.

"Oh." I say, unbuckling my seatbelt. "Are you gonna come with me?" I ask.

Hughes pauses for a quarter of a second, as if taken aback. Then he nods. "Sure."