Don’t Think About It.

“I mean, yeah, we used to date, and I love him, but I think it’s a stretch to say that I’m still in love with him right now.”

Rose was on the phone with her friend Caroline.

She was in her apartment kitchen; grocery bags were strewn about the countertops, and the sink ran with trickling water into a bowl of frozen shrimp, a quick effort to defrost in a hurry. The oven was set to 400 degrees preheated, and a pot of water was racing to get to its boil on the stovetop.

“Hey, all I’m saying is you guys have been spending much time together these past few months,” Caroline replied; a light munching of food and the crinkling of a paper bag wafted through the speaker.

Rose cradled her phone between her ear and shoulder as she chopped a slew of vegetables on the cutting board.

First, it was onions.

“Yeah, but Caroline…listen. We’re on a path to new beginnings here—a fresh start for us both—and it’s been great to have another person I can rely on, trust, and call my friend,” she replied.

The julienne cut she wanted was perfect; each stroke of her knife was deliberate and careful, with the size and shape of the teary-eyed vegetable slices.

“You know it’s important to have platonic friends in your life; not everything has to be about love, sex, and relationships. We have history, but we’re committed to moving past that. We’re both 30 years old, so we don’t have time to play games and be stuck in the past; we’re grown adults, of course, and we can handle ourselves.”

Next was the garlic.

Caroline scoffed. “Yeah, okay, whatever you say.” Her tone rolled her skeptical eyes. “I’m just saying you guys do everything together: go to bars, go see concerts, go see movies, talk and text all the time, go to the gym…and all the while he has a girlfriend.”

Rose was careful with mincing the garlic, clean and small slices to make the initial cuts before turning each sliced clove around for a second pass.

“Yes, he has a girlfriend, and I am his best friend; we’re allowed to coexist,” she retorted. Besides, you wouldn't be saying this if this were any of his other male best friends.”

Caroline began taking a sip of a drink that echoed through the phone. “Yeah, but the big difference is, and excuse my French, is that Andre didn’t use to fuck his male friends.”

Rose slammed the kitchen knife hard, and the thud fell into her phone.

“Girl, just give it rest.” She took a big sigh before moving the garlic into a side bowl. Despite Caroline's remarks, Rose couldn’t help but laugh. “But yeah, it was good, though.” There was a slight blush.

Caroline started to cackle uncontrollably from the other side. She knew Rose well and could always get the best answers out of her. “See? I knew it.” Caroline reveled in her intuition.

“Knew what? That means nothing; I can admit that when something used to feel good in the past, it doesn’t mean I still want it now.” Rose said back, trying to hide her chagrin and small smile from her cellphone.

The girls continued their banter for some time as Rose made dinner.

She had a steak in a cast iron pan, sizzling and ripping hot. The overhead kitchen exhaust was on full blast, and the stovetop was drizzled with hot oil splatters.

“So, Andre’s coming over tonight?” Caroline asked.

“Yes, he reached out saying that he and Liane had gotten into a fight earlier this week and that he wanted to come over tonight and talk.” Rose patiently waited for the steak to reach its peak sear. “We usually hang out like this once a week, but tonight is a bit different than before.”

“Did he tell you why they got into an argument?” Caroline was barely holding back her unseen smugness at the implication of this rendezvous. She bit her tongue to sip the sweetest of tea first.

Rose carefully flipped the steak in the pan to the other side and began to time it. “Hmm, not really. He said he would explain when he came over.” The sear on the steak began to form a nice crust.

“Damn, so it sounds pretty serious,” Caroline answered.

Rose let out a sigh, “Yeah, he sounded bummed out, so I did my best to cheer him up with some words of encouragement.

“What did you say?” Caroline asked.

“Oh, not much. Just the standard pick-me-up kind of words that I hope helped him.” Rose put a pad of butter into the pan with a remaining clove of garlic and some rosemary. She turned the heat down, and as the butter liquified, she began basting the steak with a spoonful of clarified flavor.

The whole apartment smelled like a food paradise, one crafted for a unique and particular purpose.

“In any case, we’re gonna talk, eat some amazing food, maybe play some video games, watch a movie…” Rose was beaming with ginger excitement. “It’s been a few days since I’ve seen him, and if he’s having issues with Lianne, maybe a woman’s perspective is needed to help. She’s so good to him, it sucks to hear that they’re having a moment.”

Rose kept basting the steak until it was ready. Then, she removed it from the pan and immediately transferred it to a cutting board. She was about to cut into it but suddenly stopped, remembering that it needed to rest before she took a knife to it.

“She’s a great woman.”

“Mhmm, I’m sure she is.” Caroline wasn’t a fool.

In the ensuing moments, Rose began to finalize the touches for tonight’s meal and started to dig out the fine china from the cabinets. Clitter-clatters of porcelain plates, silver utensils, and thin wine glasses rubbing against each other filled the space.

“Well, I have to go.” Caroline yawned, “I have a late-night yoga class in 20 minutes, and the longer I stick around eating McDonald's on my bed, the more I spend wasting the monthly class fee.”

Rose smirked at her friend's honesty. “Well, you have fun.”

“Let me know how tonight goes,” Caroline demanded, as the sound of wrappers and crunching paper bags came from the other side. “I want all the details later.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll get you all the details.” Rose sarcastically replied. “Bye, babe.”

After hanging up the phone, Rose crossed her arms to her waist and looked around the kitchen. The place was a mess, and looking down at her clothes, she realized she was a mess. Her sweater and leggings were stained with oil, sauces, bits of spices, and other cooking ingredients.

Taking the dinnerware from earlier to her kitchen table, she placed them in pairs across from each other—plate for plate, glass for glass, knife for knife. There was just enough space for the food she had prepared to go in between.

A large 32-oz ribeye with compound butter cut into equal pieces, a platter of shrimp fried rice, a bowl of mixed greens salad with toasted walnuts, strawberries, and a sherry raspberry vinaigrette, and off to the side, in a white pastry box, a myriad of soft-baked chocolate chip cookies—a spread worthy of a king, covered and wrapped well to ensure it stayed warm.

Rose took this time to go back into the kitchen to clean up. Expecting Andre to come over at any moment, she stared at the dishes and scraped and rinsed off the dirty tools before placing them into her dishwasher.

The running water began to form a base, and from this noise led a gentle symphony that crept into her heart. Rose couldn’t help but smile with a glazed look at the mere thought: spoon after tongs, bowl after cutting board, the monotony carried her into a forlorn fantasy.

She could still feel his breath on her neck, the sensation of his legs twisting in with hers, and the feeling of their fingers interlocking together. Always the next day after, she remembered how good it felt with his hands through her hair, as the sun would kiss them awake good morning.

Rose could feel her body send quivers down into the root of her soul that began to rise. But a sudden splash from the sink water onto a curved spoon brought her back from the welkin.

Rose checked the oven clock and saw that it was already 8:14. Realizing that she needed to pick up the pace with her cleaning, she looked around at her surroundings. Despite feeling tired and yawning a few times, she continued the task.

She thoroughly cleaned the stove, removed all the grease, and checked the countertops for any remaining bits and crumbs. After quickly sweeping the floor, she gathered all her trash in a bag.

Tying the bag off and hauling it out of the bin, she left her apartment to take it to the trash chute down the hall. As she walked, she grounded herself. “Don’t get carried away. It’s just dinner, as you guys always do every week. He needs a friend.”

Rose, however, began to get worried. Placing the trash down the chute, she wondered where he might be. Andre had said 7:30, but it was well past that. The food was starting to get cold.

Upon returning to her apartment, Rose quickly grabbed her phone and checked for new messages.

None.

The air began to sour; now she wasn’t sure if she was getting frustrated or worried that Andre was not there yet. Rose took a deep breath and cupped her hands into her face to muffle a groan.

Listing lazily around her apartment, Rose stopped in front of a mirror; she looked too tired for this night to start like this. Her hair, tied up in a messy bun, started to unravel.

“No.”

Rosa hurriedly went to her bathroom to freshen up by washing her face. She decided to take a shortcut and do her nighttime routine simultaneously. After taking her hair out of its bun, she let it fall on her shoulders. Rose then checked herself in the mirror, ensuring her eyebrows, teeth, and nostrils were free from any unwanted elements of decay.

Taking a long look in the mirror, she saw a woman. She looked at this woman and eventually saw a girl. This girl was unsure of herself, uncontrollable at other times, and angry by the end of her life. This girl made a choice. Back then, she called it her biggest mistake.

Rose looked longer at this girl, unimpressed and a little disappointed, but eventually came to see her with some sympathy. “We hurt him before, but now he needs us to help him. Get it together.” Shaking her head, Rose stepped out of the bathroom and sat down at the kitchen table. It was now 8:46.

And like clockwork, her phone began to ring. Grabbing it quickly, Rose answered.

“Hey!” her spirits began to lift. “I was wondering where you’d disappeared to. Are you on your way?”

“Rosey Girl! Let me start by saying I’m sorry for calling you so late,” Andre replied.

“Andre, it's fine; I’m glad you’re okay.” Rose sighs with relief. “I figured that something might have happened, and since you told me you fought with Lianne, I got a little worried.”

Andre took a moment. “Damn, I’m sorry for making you worry, but I-”

“Oh, it’s okay; just get here soon; we have a whole night ahead of us.” Rose cut him off with anticipation of his following answer.

“Um, about that. This is why I’m calling.” Andre took another second to collect his thoughts. “I want to say thank you.”

Rose smiled a little. “Okay?” she giggled. “What’s this for?”

“When I'm at my lowest, you always brighten my day with your light,” Andre replied.

Rose smiled a lot.

Andre continued, “I just want you to know that I am extremely grateful to have you as my best friend, and so I wanted to thank you for the advice you gave me earlier.”

Rose smiled a little less.

“I heard what you said, and it resonated with me. It gave me a new perspective on my relationship with Lianne, so I had to take some time to dig in and think about it. So I finally called her after a few days and followed what you taught me.” Andre’s shy smile spoke through the phone.

Rose stopped smiling. “Oh, well…how did it go?”

“It went well,” Andre answered, “But I also need to apologize because I had forgotten to update you. I’ll need to take a rain check for tonight because I’m heading to Lianne’s' house to talk, and if that’s okay…with…you….”

His voice began to fade into the whine of a sharp ringing, and a heralding storm of tinnitus filled Rose’s ears. Her eyes stood cold, and her hands became solid as the chill sank to her heart.

She gaped at the covered food before her with a wooden stare, like a castaway staring off into the open sea from a lone raft on the edge of oblivion. She doesn’t even see the water anymore, except an endless nothing.

Rose curled her toes under the table, raking her sock tips across the rug, but nothing could calm her mind. There is no world to grab and hold.

Her pulse began to count down, and the sound of the racing beat started to pollute the room. Her breath became a steady hurricane.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s no worry at all.” Rose pulled herself back together. Not realizing she was still responding to Andre with just a few vocal grunts those last few fleeting moments, she regained her voice. “It’s fine, really it is. I’m glad you guys can talk things through.”

“Hopefully. I owe you, though; I know I said I would bring some wine to share, but you don’t mind if I take it to Lianne?” Andre’s giddy was infectious.

“Not at all, besides I prefer my wines to have a proper review before trying, so…let me know if it doesn’t suck, and you can buy me a new bottle.” Rosa laughed nervously as she looked at her empty wine glasses.

Andre laughed back at her. “Deal, and I even got her some flowers...I think these are lilies, correct? The ones with the long and slack petals that are super colorful. You like these also, right?”

“Yes, they are certainly…a woman's favorite. She’ll love them,” Rose said, stopping herself from gritting her teeth.

“Great, glad to hear.” Andre’s confidence kept soaring. “Oh, one last thing: let me send you some money so you can order food for takeout. I know we would cook together tonight, but it’s so late, and I feel bad for making you skip dinner.”

“Dude, c’mon, it’s not the end of the world,” Rose said, downplaying the situation.

“Rose, don’t say that.” Andre jumped back in. “I know you; every time we do this, you always wait for me to get there before we even think about food. The Rose, I know, hardly plans. I’d be shocked if you started cooking before I arrived tonight.”

Where there was once the noise of racing anxiety was now a room so stone cold without even the slightest sound. Like a corpse, Rose sat in front of a lukewarm meal.

“Thanks, I will figure something out,” she said graciously.

“Awesome,” Andre said as the dimmed sounds of footsteps climbing up steps could be heard. “Hey, I just got to Lianne's house.” He rang the doorbell. “I will see you sometime this week.” He shuffled the flowers and wine around his arms as he prepared to hang up the phone.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later this week.” Rose could hear the door opening from the other side as she replied. A woman's voice faintly called out, “Andre.”

“And that’s my cue, I gotta go. Love you, bye.” Andre hung up in a hurry.

The phone chimed its usual note when the call ended, but Rose kept the phone up to her ear for some time afterward.

“Yeah…I love you too, bye.” Rose spoke into the lonely air.

She lingered momentarily and caressed the back of the phone with her index finger for seconds longer. This was all she had left.

Rose reached for the food. She started making a plate for herself, consisting of steak, rice, and salad. After a moment, she got up and went back to the kitchen. There, she filled up a glass of water from the sink tap and opened the fridge to grab a used bottle of white.

She poured the remaining liquid into her wine glass, took the empty bottle to the recycling bin, and sat at the kitchen table.

Rose sat still, her hands resting on her lap as she gazed at the plate of food before her. She examined every grain of rice, every pinch of spice, and every leaf of salad coated in her homemade dressing. This wasn't just a feast fit for a king; Rose had prepared it with all of Andre's favorite dishes.

She raised her hands above the table in slow motion, but they skipped the silverware and kept rising to meet her cheeks, wiping away the first few teardrops.

Rose struggled to stem the flow to prevent the whimper from becoming louder. But now she could visualize it and hear it.

Rose could vividly imagine every detail, from the doorstep to the bedroom, but her constant obsession began to constrict her heart like a barbed wire chain.

The flooding of tears wouldn’t stop pooling in her palms; her breath gave way to panicked cries.

There they were in her head, two bodies twisting and writing together. The sounds of his primal grunts pounding away from behind like a Tarzan in heat. Her ecstasy in jubilation at the weight of his body on top of hers, throwing her hips back in rhythm to his cock.

Deep strokes and deeper kisses as two lovers reunited after a time apart. The headboard of their shared bed bashed against the wall, their sweat, her juices mixing heavily, penetrating the sheets under them.

Throws of passion sent shockwaves through their bodies and beyond with each thrust of him inside her. The mashing of naked bodies and the moans from their bed reached into every ounce of Rose as she cradled herself at her kitchen table, their fantasy, her nightmare.

No glint of light could shake away the darkness that overtook her senses. It was like a swamp; the more she struggled, the deeper she sank into this cruel retribution.

Rose pushed aside the plate of food and placed her head on the table, letting her tears collect on the surface and her cries soaked into the wood for the entire night.

By the time the rivers of her eyes had dried up, the sun had begun to rise, and a golden hue broke into her windows to sting into her dulled irises.

A good morning, this was not.