SKYLA: I’m leaving for five days. Don’t call me.
I immediately called.
She didn’t answer.
I texted her.
Where are you going?
No response.
For two days, she’d acted determined to help me.
Now she’d vanished.
My father’s warnings returned.
I imagined her deciding that a seriously ill boyfriend without money wasn’t worth the burden.
On the second day, I tried calling again.
Straight to voicemail.
I nearly contacted my friends to admit they’d been right.
But something held me back.
Perhaps embarrassment.
Or perhaps I couldn’t bear hearing them congratulate themselves.
On the third day, I noticed a note Skyla had attached to my refrigerator weeks earlier.
EAT BREAKFAST BEFORE YOUR MEETING. COFFEE IS NOT BREAKFAST.
Underneath, she’d drawn a ridiculously bad little egg.
I stood staring at it.
That small gesture didn’t match the selfish woman I’d imagined.
