Zenith.

She brings Jack to visit her cousin a month before the wedding. Her cousin is married, with two adopted kids. Jack and Jess sit and talk with them as the kids run around. The wife gets up, makes drinks without being asked to, and the two girls curl up on the couch together. Jess’s cousin gets up and leaves to check on the kids.

In that small silence as her cousin’s wife drinks her tea, Jess looks over at Jack, seeing the blank, settled look in his eyes. He cousin returns, saying something about how the kids were fighting, and Jack simply nods. Jess wonders what’s going on, but she knows now is not the best time.

The conversation resumes, although now Jack has fallen silent. No one except for Jess seems to notice.

After another hour or so, Jack and Jess head home. He’s still quiet and she doesn’t know why. They go inside and he takes a seat on the living room couch as she goes to the kitchen, pouring out two glasses of whiskey. She steps into the living room, leaning against the doorframe until he finally speaks.

"I can’t do this."

Jess takes a sip of her whiskey, stepping forward and handing him his glass. She hears the words, but they don’t quite register. “Getting cold feet is normal,” she says quietly.

He looks up at her, then down at his drink. He shakes his head. “This isn’t cold feet. This is… this is frozen feet. Frostbite feet.” He stands up, sets his glass down. “I don’t want this.”

She thinks back, six months ago. He had said the exact opposite. She takes a drink, clears her throat and asks quietly, “What happened to being with me until the day you die? And after?” Looking up at him, she knew it was the wrong thing to say.

"I don’t know." He runs his hands through his hair, his voice cracking slightly. "I don’t know."

She feels tears well up in her eyes and wordlessly blinks them out. She feels like the air’s been sucked out of the room. She feels like the ground’s been pulled out from under her and all she has left is one strand, keeping her from falling into the abyss.

"I’m sorry."

The strand snaps. She coughs, sits down. Staring up at him, she just wants to know why, but she can’t bring herself to say anything else. He sits back down beside her, curling around her and shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” With each apology, it feels like a punch in the gut.

She knows that they should talk now. Cancellation plans. Calling relatives and friends. Dividing up their things so she can move out.

"I have to go now," he says, pulling away from her. She looks at him, not sure if those are actually tears in his eyes or if her vision was blurred from her own.

"Where?"

"Flight to catch. I’m going back to Maryland." He bends down, kisses the top of her head. "I’m sorry."

She merely nods. She watches him leave with his suitcase, watching the taxi he takes until he’s out of sight. She sits back in the house, alone. Something that she never thought she’d feel again.

She slides off the ring and sits on the floor, popping open one of the boards that she and Jack had loosened together - just so if someone tried to rob the house, they wouldn’t find the important stuff. She had forgotten what was in the floorboard. She stares down at the space, the tears coming once again as she dug through it.

A Polaroid picture of Jack giving her a piggy back ride. 800 dollars, cash. CDs they had burned for each other. Hell, they even tried out writing letters once. She picks one of the letters up, shaking her head as she debates opening it. She drops the letter and the ring in the floorboard, puts the cover back on.

She thinks back to when they first met. She wishes she knew what she had gotten into.