Walking Disaster

holey jeans and a loose, flowing white shirt.
    “I have been salivating. Whatever you’re making smells so good.”
    I poured the Alfredo and pasta into her deep plate, and slid the blackened Cajun chicken on top, and then sprinkled over it some diced tomatoes and green onions.
    “This is what I’ve been cooking,” I said, setting the plate in front of Abby’s chair. She sat down, and her eyes widened, and then she watched me fill my own plate.
    I tossed a slice of garlic bread onto her plate, and she smiled. “You’ve thought of everything.”
    “Yes, I did,” I said, popping the cork on the wine. The dark red liquid splashed a bit as it flowed into her glass, and she giggled.
    “You didn’t have to do all of this, you know.”
    My lips pressed together. “Yes. I did.”
    Abby took a bite, and then another, barely pausing to swallow. A small hum emanated from her lips. “This is really good, Trav. You’ve been holding out on me.”
    “If I told you before, you would have expected it every night.” The contrived smile I’d somehow managed quickly faded.
    “I’m going to miss you, too, Trav,” she said, still chewing.
    “You’re still gonna come over, right?”
    “You know I will. And you’ll be at Morgan’s, helping me study, just like you did before.”
    “But it won’t be the same.” I sighed. “You’ll be dating Parker, we’re going to get busy . . . go in different directions.”
    “It’s not going to change that much.”
    I laughed once. “Who would have thought from the first time we met that we’d be sitting here? You couldn’t have told me three months ago that I’d be this miserable over
saying goodbye to a girl.”
    Abby’s face fell. “I don’t want you to be miserable.”
    “Then don’t go.”
    Abby swallowed, and her eyebrows moved in infinitesimally. “I can’t move in here, Travis. That’s crazy.”
    “Says who? I just had the best two weeks of my life.”
    “Me, too.”
    “Then why do I feel like I’m never gonna see you again?”
    She watched me for a moment, but didn’t reply. Instead Abby stood up and walked around the breakfast bar, sitting on my lap. Everything in me wanted to look her in the eyes, but I was
afraid if I did, I’d try to kiss her, and our night would be ruined.
    She hugged me, her soft cheek pressing against mine. “You’re going to realize what a pain in the ass I was, and then you’ll forget all about missing me,” she whispered in
my ear.
    I rubbed my hand in circles between her shoulder blades, trying to choke back the sadness. “Promise?”
    Abby looked into my eyes, touching each side of my face with her hands. She caressed my jaw with her thumb. Thoughts of begging her to stay crossed my mind, but she wouldn’t hear me. Not
from the other side of her bubble.
    Abby closed her eyes and leaned down. I knew she meant to kiss the corner of my mouth, but I turned so that our lips met. It was my last chance. I had to kiss her goodbye.
    She froze for a moment, but then her body relaxed, and she let her lips linger on mine.
    Abby finally pulled away, playing it off with a smile. “I have a big day tomorrow. I’m going to clean up the kitchen, and then I’m going to head to bed.”
    “I’ll help you.”
    We did the dishes together in silence, with Toto asleep at our feet. I dried the last dish and set it in the rack, and then reached down for her hand to lead her down the hall. Each step was
agony.
    Abby pushed down her jeans, and then lifted her shirt over her head. Grabbing one of my T-shirts from the closet, she let the worn gray cotton slide over her head. I stripped down to my boxers
like I’d done dozens of times with her in the room, but this time solemnness hung over the room.
    We climbed into bed, and I switched off the lamp. I immediately wrapped my arms around her and sighed, and she nestled her face into my neck.
    The trees outside my window cast a shadow across the walls. I tried to concentrate on their shapes and the way the light wind changed the shape of their silhouette against the different angles
of the wall. Anything to keep my mind off the numbers on the clock, or how close we were to the morning.
    Morning. My life was going to change for the worse in just a few hours. Jesus Christ. I couldn’t bear it. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block that train of thought.
    “Trav? Are you okay?”
    It took me a while to form the words. “I’ve never been less okay in my life.”
    She pressed her