Where Do Broken Hearts Go?

1. The Final Proposal

ONE YEAR LATER

"Maybe it's just me, but I don't see why you wouldn't take the job."

My eyes create such a roll that I can see my brain. Once again, my best friend is trying to change my mind about packing up my life. "It's too far away from my family, Ella," I say, walking past her baffled face.

Ella claps her hands together, then points to the ceiling with another perplexing mug. "Your family is upstate. You're already far away, Angel." She throws her arms before her.

"London is further." I toss my arms in one direction, hoping London is a straight line.

"You need a change of scenery." She mimics my aim as we do our usual early, morning bickering. I throw my weight on to the couch and cover my face with a pillow.

"I'm not ready." My argument is muffled as I rest my head on the cushion. "I can't leave."

Ella must be exhausted from our daily disagreements because she softens earlier today. Taking a seat on the arm of the chair, she claims, "I get it."

"You don't." I stare across the room without looking my best friend in the face. "It's like I'm leaving him behind."

"It's been a year, Angel."

"And the police have stopped looking. He's not dead." I lift my face as I hiss at her unspoken theory. She bows her head before her downbeat mien faces the kitchen. "He's missing," I confirm.

"Angel." Ella sighs as she pinches her nose.

I spin my legs from the couch and confront her doubt head-on. "What do you think happened?" I lean forward, waiting for this hypothesis. Ella takes a breath, quickly looking at me, then away as her hand slaps against her leg. "Huh?" I wait. "Did he run off to get help, get lost, and never find his way home?" I open my questioning palms for answers.

"I don't know."

"Just say it." I sit up straight, arms guarding my hanging-by-a-thread heart.

"I don't know what happened to Alex." Shrugging her shoulders, Ella gives up by locking her hands between her legs. "It's a mystery. It's a disturbing mystery."

"You think he's dead and I should move on with my life."

"God, Angel!" Turning away from me, Ella jumps to her bare feet to throw her arms back in the air. Leering over her shoulder, she's beyond fed up as my expression doesn't shift. "Why do you put words in my mouth and then get mad at me? I didn't say that." She faces my apathetic stare.

"But you're thinking it." Instead of punishing Ella, I punish a pillow by flipping it to the floor. "You're so pushy."

As my spoken thoughts float through the air and my accusations offend Ella, I feel the weight of the world coming down on me. Closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose, I try stopping the tension-filled air from invading me again. I thought saying it out loud would lighten my load, but no. When my tears build, I know it's here, but I continue to fight the thoughts' quest to my heart. Shaking the concluding premiss from my brain, I deny a ruined day. Thankfully, my tears dry before falling and I know I've won the battle that I regularly forfeit.

"I'm accepting what's before me. That's all. I loved-" She begins, making me scoff. I lift my pinching fingers to run them through my hair, hoping to find comfort there. Nope. "I love him too." She corrects. "I'm not trying to sound insensitive. I just want you to accept what's before you. This place is draining you. You hate coming home. You torture yourself by staying here. You need to get away. You need a fresh start." She looks around at my home. Alex's prints are everywhere; the same as his things. "It's a constant reminder of his absence. Don't feel guilty about wanting to know what happiness once felt like. It's not here. I only want what's best for you. If it were up to me, you would have been out of here months ago." She admits, snatching my attention. Ella gives the tiniest smile and nod.