She would never leave me, right? I do everything for her. I take her to the movies when one of her books gets a film adaptation, I listen and reply to her while she talks about her bad days, I take care of her at her worst and best. It’s all because I lover her. It’s probably best for me to not think about her actions right now, there’s too much going through my head. Work is becoming much harder for me recently, but I’ve been taking time off to clear my head a bit. We usually get paid on the fifth of the month, so it being January, and Christmas being so recent, I didn’t get paid as much. Maybe that’s why Jess hasn’t been speaking to me. I decided I was going to take a walk today, but that was a bit of a mistake. The ground is covered with white and I keep slipping on the sidewalk, but I keep going. I always do. The breeze attacks my skin, sending shivers and goosebumps down my entire body. Snow falls rapidly, blocking my sense of direction and forcing me to turn around. When I turn, I see a figure. A person. Walking closure I notice long black hair, and skin that almost blends into the surrounding falling snow. It’s Jess, and she’s just standing. I shout, “Jess?” She doesn’t answer, turns around, and disappears. I run ahead a little bit to catch up to her, but she was gone. She’s made a habit of that recently, but I can’t figure out why she is doing it. She won’t tell me. Jess has always been someone who is caring, putting others before herself, but something changed. I decide to start walking back home. It’s late anyway, and I’m hoping 2024 will be the year that it snows every day. I’ve always enjoyed it. I open the door and hear the sound of a tea kettle, but it’s loud. I run through the long, thin hall to the kitchen and see Jess on the opposite side of the island. She stands at the sink with her back facing me and looking out the window. The sound was coming from her. My skin turns pale and the hair on my arms stand up, freezing me and forcing me to stare. “Jess, why are you screaming?” I ask as my hands tremble. “Please, talk to me.” She stops. My breath quickens and my body won’t let me make any movements. Jess turns to her left and sprints out the other door of the kitchen. In our four years of dating, she’s never just screamed at anything. My cellphone rings and I let out a quick gasp. I pull out my phone from my pocket, see it’s my mom on the line, and answer the call. “Hey Ezekiel- sorry, Zeke. I keep forgetting you changed your name,” she says. “H- Hi mom, that’s alright,” I say as I use my thumb to pop the knuckles of my fingers. “The strangest thing just happened, though. Jess was just screaming at nothing. I don’t know if I should talk to her about it or not.” “Oh baby. I know you aren’t feeling well. Do you want to stay with me and your father a couple of days?” “No. Why would I do that?” “I know how badly you’re hurting. What you’re going through is not easy. I’ll even make that pumpkin soup you love so much. I want to do anything I can to-“ “Stop,” I scream. “I told you to stop trying to help me. If you won’t, then I’ll block your number. Give me a few days, please.” “Zeke, I-“ I hang up. I feel my heart pounding in my chest, and I take a deep breath before following Jess to our room. In the short hallway to our room, I see a picture frame on the floor. It’s one of Jess in a blue, floral sundress. There’s a crack in the glass that blocks her face entirely, splitting off into different edges of the frame. Tears well in my eyes, and I rush my hands around to find stray pieces of glass and stick them into the frame. They won’t stay. My nose scrunches and eyebrows furl as I stomp towards our room. “Jess, what the hell is up with you? You need to talk to me. Please! Jess, where are you?” She steps out of our closet in the sundress with a suitcase that seemed light and limp. Jess walks towards our bed, leans down, and picks up a box from under the bed with her free hand. Handing the box to me, she smiles and nods, heading towards the door. I stand with my eyebrow raised for a few seconds before running towards her. I stop in the kitchen to look out the window. Brown, broken grass starts peeking through the melting snow. I shake my head and start towards Jess again. Standing at the front door, Jess holds her suitcase with a grip that reveals her veins through her skin. “Jess, please don’t go! Please, please, PLEASE. I can’t live without you by my side.” “Ezekiel,” Jess whispers, turning her head and looking at me with her hazel, close set eyes, “you need to get over me.” She twists the handle of the door, opening it wide to a bright light. It shines on the water droplets that cling to the dead grass. “It’s time for me to go.” “Please don’t leave me,” I say as water trickles down my face. “I’ll do anything for you to stay. Anything!” She walks through, shutting the door tight behind her. She’s gone. What is there to do now? It’s cold now, much colder than in the snow. I clench my stomach as my tears stop, but the lump in my throat won’t go away. I set the box on the ground and sit next to it, opening it with my shaky hands. Photos. They’re all photos of her. There’s one where she danced in the snow, with trees as her audience. Here’s one of her reading a book by her mother’s fireplace. And here’s one of us together at the bowling alley, my brown hair being messy after wearing a cap all day. I smile and turn through photograph after photograph of us together, but the last thing in the box made my stomach churn. It was a pamphlet, reading: ‘In Loving Memory. September 5, 1997 - December 25, 2023. Jessica Winthrop. She truly watched out for us all.’