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There are days when she misses him. When it's late at night and her bed feels lonely and even though she's committed to what she's doing, even though she knows it's better for them to be a part right now, even though she some days she doesn't even know what she wants -- she misses him.
She tries hard not to think about it. It's easy when the world needs saving. It's easy in the daylight when she's keeping busy, and the drama of surviving day to day keeps her moving forward. It's easy when there are people to keep her occupied.
But it's the nights that always get her. It's not just the loneliness. He hadn't been just another boyfriend. She isn't sentimental about first times or first kisses. Romance had been a dream once, but that isn't really what she misses now.
It's the way he used to make her laugh. The way he used to aggravate her. The way they used to just stay up and talk for hours about the most mundane things. The way he used to smile and it'd light up her world. The way he used to make her feel so connected and loved and safe...
He hadn't been just her boyfriend. He had been her best friend, too.
And it hurts, a little, to think of that in the past tense.
She gets up from her bed, and starts digging through the back of her closet. She knows it's there, buried in a box that despite how much she's wanted to at times, she's never had the heart to throw away. No matter how many times she's tried, she's never really been able to say good bye.
She finds it near the bottom, a box full of memories of better days. Old ticket stubs and photobooth candids and an ancient recipe for boysenberry pie. She laughs as she digs through.
And of course, at the bottom, something he didn't even know she had taken. She pulls it out, knocking half the contents to the floor as it's big and bulky. One of his old trench coats.
She puts it on and wraps herself up in it, and it feels like a hug in a way that makes her feel nostalgic for the past. She breathes it and she can still smell him on it - the old cigarettes and the fancy cologne and that very smell that had been unique to him.
It makes her heart ache.
She should call. She could. The phone is right there on the nightstand. But it's not time. She's not ready. There are more things to sort through. More of her self she needs to straighten out. And that's a journey she still needs to do on her own.
Still, she hugs herself again, letting herself drown in it. Indulging in the memories of how many times he held her in that coat.
Then something knocks against her thigh. There's something in one of the pockets. She reaches in and takes out a deck of cards. Instinctively, she pulls the deck out, looking it over with a grin.
There's a card with writing on it. The Queen of Hearts. Of course. Of course he would.
'You're a good thief, Chere, but I knew you'd grab it. Was always your favorite one. Go on and keep it. It'll be a nice reminder of how I can keep you warm and safe even when I'm not there. Even when we're far a part, a little bit of me will always be with you.' -Remy
She holds the card close to her heart. Love you, too, sugar... love you, too...