Please Don't Forgive Me

“So you’re going from one tour right into the next?” I asked. Garrett had barely been back for three weeks and was talking about leaving again. “When do you leave?”

“We leave in a week and a half,” he frowned. He was sitting opposite me at the table in the corner of the kitchen. I pulled one leg onto the chair and took a spoonful of ice cream out of the container. “Did you want to go with us?” I thought about it briefly, but I would cause problems—just like last time. And I wasn’t too fond of the idea of spending almost five months on a tour bus.

“I’ll just cause problems for you; for us. And besides, I don’t think I could live on the bus for five months.” I sighed and looked down at the ground.

“I know you don’t want me to go, but you know I have to.” I nodded because it was true.

“I just got you back Garrett. I don’t want you to leave again.” I took another spoonful of Butter Pecan ice cream and put the container down on the table. Who cares about twenty grams of fat per serving when they’re upset? Who cares about the serving size when they’re upset? Because I sure as hell didn’t. “I don’t want to miss you again.”

“You can visit. It isn’t like I’m going to disappear.” I looked down and tried to push the tears back. “Don’t cry, Anika. Come on, please?” I looked up slowly. I always got upset when he had to leave, but this time was even worse.

“I’m going to miss you so much though. Who am I going to curl up next to at three in the morning? Who’s going to hold me when I need to cry? Who’ll make me feel safe?” He went to wrap his arms around me, but I shrugged him off. “I just need a little while to myself to adjust,” I said turning toward my room. The furniture needed to be dusted since I had barely occupied this room since Garrett got home.

I heard Garrett turn on the water for the shower and I heard him curse when he walked into his dresser. I heard the door open and close and I heard his car start outside. When he was gone I let myself cry. Without him this place seemed so lonely. It seemed too empty, too quiet and much too put together. There were no sneakers left next to the couch and no dishes left in the sink. The coffee would never be made when I woke up and worst of all I would always wake up alone. I didn’t want to wake up without him. I wanted to wake up in the warmth and comfort of his arms. I wanted him.

It was about two hours later when Garrett walked back into the apartment. “Ani,” he called knocking on my door, “can I come in?”

“It’s unlocked,” I replied. The door creaked open and he walked into my dusty room.

“I know you don’t want me to leave, but I can’t help that, so I got you a present.” He lifted up a small animal carrier and opened the door. A small kitten climbed out and curled up next to me on the bed. “The woman at the shelter said that he’s the friendliest and cuddliest there was. He answers to Machiavelli, but you could change his name.” I looked down at the small little creature. Its fur was grey and black and its eyes were bright green. Its pink nose stood out against its fur and eyes and it looked like a little fur ball.

“Machiavelli?” I laughed. “He is so a Machiavelli,” I said sarcastically, thinking of the author of “El Principe.”

“You like him?” I didn’t really want a pet, and neither of us were really cat people.

“I guess. He’s really cute, but…” I trailed off.

“But you’re not a cat person. But he grows on you, I promise.” As Garrett finished talking, the kitten put its little head down on my arm and started purring. He had won me over.

“Thank you Garrett.” Machiavelli wouldn’t replace Garrett when he was gone, but he would help a little. At least I could cuddle with this little ball of fur and body heat.