Writing Goodbye in My Vows

"Guess I should just move back into the dorm," Elsie muttered, brushing Jared off as she turned to pack her suitcase.

Right on cue, a few photos spilled out. They were pictures of Elsie in old-fashioned outfits. From the look of the backdrop, they must've been taken in the historic streets of Saffbury.

Elsie and Jared stood too close to be casual, their eyes saying everything they didn't.

Tucked away in the locked cabinet of Jared's study was an identical photo album, taken at the same place, in the same costumes, with a woman who looked uncannily like Elsie. It was how he kept reliving his memories of Eleanor, again and again.

I begged Jared a million times to hit that beach just an hour's drive away every summer, but he kept ghosting me with different stories.

He scooped the photos off the floor like they were something delicate, something that mattered. "It's too late to get into the dorms. Just stay here tonight."

Elsie shot me an uneasy glance, and Jared said, "Why are you looking at her? This is my house. I get to decide who stays!"

I studied Jared, calm and distant. "Right. Your house."

I should've been the one to leave. It wasn't like I ever planned on coming back. I brushed past them and headed for the bedroom to grab my things.

Jared grabbed my arm. "You'll take the guest room. Elsie likes to watch the sunrise."

As if that made a difference.

"Fine," I said.

Jared clearly hadn't expected me to give in so easily. For once, the cold look on his face softened just a little.

His eyes flicked to the swelling on my cheek, and for the first time, there was a trace of regret in his voice. "Wait. Let me get you some ointment for that."

"No need," I coldly replied. What was a bruise anyway when my heart was already in pieces?

I ignored them both, pulled out my suitcase, and packed only a few clothes and the bare essentials before heading straight to the guest room.

The rest could be replaced. Nothing new could begin until the old was gone.

Jared tried to follow me, but the door clicked shut behind me and stayed locked.

He knocked a few times. Then he said, tentatively and probing,"Willow, you're not actually mad, are you?"

We always ended up at war every time Elsie came up, be it quiet, tense standoffs or loud, messy arguments. But now, my calmness caught him off guard.