Free Back to Reality by Danielle Allen Page B

the curb and into traffic.  Pressing a few buttons against the dashboard, loud classical music erupted from the speakers. 
    “Sorry, I didn’t know I had it up that loud.  I’m looking for a piece for class,” Ben apologized as he turned the music down.  I didn’t respond.  The rest of the ride home was silent.
    After being dropped off and refusing help with my bags, I made my way through the Great Room.  Not bothering to take my sunglasses off, I attempted to smile politely at the small group of people gathered to wait for the elevator. The blank stare I got in return led me to believe my goal of actually looking pleasant wasn’t achieved.  Too exhausted and sad to care, I backed into the far corner of the elevator with my tote on my shoulder.  Standing with six others in the crowded elevator, the trip to my tenth floor apartment seemed endless. 
    When the elevator stopped on my floor, I was the only person left in the elevator. Dragging my weary body down the hall, I felt my eyes well up with tears behind my dark oversized sunglasses.  I did all I could do, I thought as I pulled out my keys and entered my home. I tried to talk to him. He shut me out. Literally. He shut me out of his office which was probably a metaphor for him shutting me out of his life. I just hope he can forgive me one day.  I poured my heart out into that letter.  That’s all I could do.
    Removing my sunglasses, I opened the door and waited for the instant calm to take over.  It didn’t happen.  I hadn’t been living in One38 long enough for the new apartment to be my place of instant solace.  Sighing, I walked to my bedroom and emptied the contents of my tote into the laundry basket.  I kicked off my shoes, tossed my bag on the bench and then made a beeline for the kitchen. Wine, chocolate cake, and more wine, I contemplated my afternoon menu.  Grabbing a bottle of Blandy's Malmsey Madeira, a slice of chocolate cake and my phone, I walked to the balcony and sat in the chaise lounge chair. Running the length of my bedroom, the balcony was long, but not wide. 
    Placing the wine and cake on the small table beside the chaise, I picked up my phone and called Emily.
    “Hey! How are you?” Emily asked after the second ring.
    Sighing dramatically, I answered glumly, “I’m okay. How are you?”
    “I’d be doing better if you’d tell me what happened,” Emily encouraged.
    Twenty minutes and several chugs of wine later, I told Emily everything that happened at Jimmy’s.
    “Oh wow… I’m so sorry Sahara. That’s brutal!” Emily groaned.
    “Yeah, I know,” I said dryly.
    “He didn’t have to carry it like that. He could’ve… I don’t know!” Emily exclaimed in frustration.
    “Yeah…” I dragged the word out. “So… that happened.”
    “Well I know you didn’t just leave it like that.”
    I took another sip of wine. “No. I didn’t. I went there to tell him everything so I wrote him a letter.”
    “What did it say?”
    “I told him everything. I mean, I already cleared up the misunderstanding with your text before so I didn’t get into that whole thing again.  But I explained everything. I explained why Emanuel was at the hospital with me. I explained my numerous conversations with Bennett and how he kept me away from the hospital.  I explained that I didn’t leave without trying to see him, talk to him, or check on him.  I explained why I left Richland. Why I left him.”  I took another swig of the delicious dessert wine before I continued, “I put it all out there. Four pages worth of guilt-ridden apologies signed sealed and delivered. Dr. Summers should be proud.”
    “What did she say when you told her you were going to do it?”
    “She said her concern was in how I was going to handle their reactions.”
    Emily didn’t say anything for a moment. “How are you handling things?”
    I eyed the wine bottle as I responded, “I’m handling things. Maybe not in the best way today, but I’ll be