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“You’ll be okay,” is rapidly becoming your favorite phrase to tell yourself.
This month has single-handedly been the worst one of your adult life. You took the blame for Marmaduke’s poor decision making, and what did it get you?
Abandoned by literally everyone you knew. Your own cousin isn’t coming to your defense, and he’s the cause of this entire mess!
The situation would be tolerable, maybe even fine, if it wasn’t for the fact that the person closest to you is leaving you as well.
Starling gave his one week notice seven days ago since he first heard about “your” scandal. He leaves this morning. You’ve been counting the days to his departure. Each passing day, dread slowly seeps from your mind throughout your entire body, now settling into your bones.
It’s very late at night, or very early morning depending on who you ask. Here you are, still awake. You fear going to sleep, because you know that the person who mattered most to you will be gone once you wake up. You stare at the moon outside your window, and pray its descent is somehow slower tonight.
There’s faint sounds outside your room, though that might be your sleep-deprived and anxiety-riddled mind playing trick on you. Is Starling already packing his stuff to leave? You thought he’d already finished packing. The man is incredibly disciplined. He wouldn’t wait until last minute.
Fear chills your hands and feet, and you begin trembling once you’ve reminded yourself of Starling’s departure. Close your eyes, start thinking about something else. This won’t do you any good.
You wonder, if there is a way to stop this. Maybe if you could be honest. With yourself. With him. Tell him the truth about what actually happened. Would he believe you? Would he think you’re a liar, trying to save yourself from complete humiliation? He seems to think your acts, that you really did crash that car, that you are a thief, that you are a complete dumba- Stop. This isn’t… This line of thinking isn’t good either. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you. At least, it won’t matter in about six hours. Besides, Marmaduke is relying on you to keep up the facade. You take some comfort in that idea, that there is someone out there who needs you.
You can’t stop him from leaving. It’s set in stone, and you don’t want to be an obstacle to his happiness. Still, your mind wanders to the place of your regrets, filled with memories that are quickly being tainted by the events that are soon to come. You could have been more open. You’re not the best at expressing your emotions. Perhaps he felt his hard work was being taken for granted. Did you thank him enough? Does he know how much you appreciate his presence? Does he know much you care about him? You ball up your blankets in your hands as you let the realization and the emotions wash over you.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, and the sounds outside your room are no longer audible over your heartbeat. It hurts. It hurts almost as much as your parents funeral, as you realize that someone that you cared about, loved, is leaving you again.
All the stress, anger, frustration, terror, pain of these past few weeks finally comes to the surface, pushing past every part of your mind that tried to suppress it, and tears flood your eyes. Your throat hurts so f_____g much as you do everything in your power to silence your sobs. Try as you might, you let a single sob slip from your mouth. It echoes in your room.
Covering your mouth, you place your head in your pillow, and hope with everything you’ve got that he did not hear that. Relax, go back to when you were a child who cried a lot. Use the calming techniques that your dad taught you – in… out… in… out… At the memory of your dad, your throat constricts a little more.
Footsteps. D___ it. He heard you. Of course he did. He always knew when you were in distress. Why would that not be the case now? He’s outside your room. Just keep breathing, you’ll be okay. In, and out, and in…
The bedroom door creaks, followed by a few seconds of silence. “Madam?” His voice is soft, almost warm. Your breathing falters.
More footsteps – is he really entering your room? The sounds get closer, until they’re right next to your bed, on the side you’re sleeping on. He’s standing right next to you. You could throw away all your dignity and reasoning, and take his hand. Look him in the eyes, and beg him to not leave.
You don’t. The impulse fades away as you focus on your breathing. It’s nearly stabilized now, nice and deep. Only one out of every ten breaths is shaky. You hope he doesn’t notice. You know he will.
Everything is tense. Your mind, your body, the air around you and him. The tension hangs in the air, ready to be snapped by a single action. You’re not sure if you want it to break.
Finally, you hear movement above you, his arm? It does something, you can’t imagine what it could be, and then it stops. He murmurs something, too quiet for you catch, and then he leaves.
You relax, only a little. One final deep inhale, and you’re okay. Of course you are. You will always be okay. Even if your parents die. Even if you have to move countries. Even if you have to leave everyone you know behind. Even if your beloved valet is abandoning you. You’ll survive. Even if you aren’t right at this moment, you will be okay.