6.

The day arrived. June was in the kitchen when I rose. She offered to make me breakfast and I accepted. It felt just like the morning I’d first met her, except her humming did not spread through and warm the house.

Jamie headed downtown early to set the scene. The proposal was happening at 6 p.m. under the pretence of a dinner. If I knew Jamie, which it seemed like I was beginning to, everything would happen right on schedule. I went to a nearby park, sat on one of its benches and retrieved pages from my pocket as the tinny sound of a baseball meeting an aluminium bat rang out in the distance, followed by cheering kids.

Taking in the words, I felt a dread build I couldn’t explain away to myself. Returning home not long before June and I were meant to leave, I sat alone on the couch in the living room while amber sunset traced the shapes of windows on the floor. Specks of dust shimmered as they danced and turned in the light. I felt like I was floating with them.

A squeal of turning taps came through the wall, June humming as she showered. I got up, walked to the Miata with my bags and forced them into the boot. Up the path, Aaron’s curious face stood in the open doorway. Walking back, trying not to meet his gaze, I pulled on the door handle to close it between us. It fought back. I didn’t look down, but I could feel sad eyes burning a hole through me. He knew. He’d never been walked out on, yet somehow he knew.

I pulled the handle a little harder. Aaron stepped around and braced himself against the door with open palms; the entirety of his diminutive weight leant into it like someone push-starting a car. He was groaning with exertion and desperation. I let my fingers relax, then walked back into the house with him and sat on the couch. I closed the door of my room before June came into the living room a few minutes later. She was dolled up and my lungs failed for a moment. She noticed and smiled at me for the first time in days. I decided right then there has not been, and never will be, anything as beautiful as a woman who feels she is.

‘Are you ready to go?’ she asked, looping an earring through her lobe.

‘Yes, but I’m going to take my own car.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah. I’ve got a date right after.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘Mhmm, a hot one too.’

She scanned me with narrowed eyes.

‘Eh, warm. Okay, tepid,’ I said with a shrug.

‘You’re an idiot.’

We stood facing each other. She knew, and she knew I knew it. Neither of us was good at covering up to the other anymore.

‘Well … that’s good. I’ll see you soon?’

‘I hope so.’

We hugged. She squeezed tighter than I thought her frame was capable of. Then I felt it all rushing back. I was inviting loneliness back into my life just like I had time and again. Running from the safety of those who cared for me; making room for emptiness. Its company was so familiar I almost felt a sick longing when it wasn’t around. I hugged Aaron and lifted him into his seat in June’s car.

‘Drive safe. There’ll be a seat at our table whenever you decide to join.’

‘Thank you.’

I followed them down to and through the security gate. June put on her right indicator and I put on my left. Aaron waved with delight as I pulled up beside them. I waved back to him as June looked on with a smile and wet eyes. She nodded, pulled away and was gone.

I went the other direction and headed north. The clock ticked over to 6.01 p.m. as I worked the Miata into fifth up the interstate. Jamie would be rolling into the first chorus any second now, while the band played and June lit up with that smile. My absence would make sense only to her.

I hummed a melody and tapped the wheel. The family I’d found with those people was the type you take with you wherever you go. I lit a cigarette and clicked the lighter shut. The day was crouching behind the horizon. It would be dark here soon, but I didn’t feel alone. The sun doesn’t abandon anyone. It wanders so no corner goes without light.