Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
Alexander
I've searched every classroom, every walkway, and every corner of campus.
I scan the commons until my eyes burn, convinced every scarf, every hat, and every hidden face might somehow be hers.
At this point, I might have convinced myself she was a figment of my imagination if my body hadn't betrayed me the day we met.
Her face is seared into my memory, impossible to forget.
She lingers at the edge of every thought, a constant ache I willingly carry if it means I might see her again.
I need to know what happened between us was real and not something my mind invented to drive me insane with the need for a woman I can't have.
I don't live on campus, but I might as well.
I stay long after my classes end, wandering the grounds like a ghost unwilling to leave its unfinished business behind.
Every instinct tells me she's here, yet every day proves me wrong.
Eventually, I force myself to call it quits, already planning tomorrow's search, hoping this time it ends with me finding the woman who walked away from my parents' house.
With that determination, I force myself to go back to the townhouse my parents bought for me—a sound investment, they called it.
Housing around here is scarce, but that’s not why they bought it.
They wanted me settled, close, and within driving distance to the campus.
They don’t realize I barely sleep there.
I spend more hours on campus than anywhere else, and it’s not because of my classes.
I spend hours lurking in the expansive library, watching and waiting, hoping she'll finally appear.
“Damn it,” I mumble, admitting another day of defeat as I trudge across the parking lot to my car without another sighting of Rose.
The sun is beginning to disappear as nightfall settles over Dartmouth.
Dense forest surrounds the campus, and the crisp autumn air carries the promise of another long New England winter.
Housing near the medical center is nearly impossible to find, especially during residency season, but none of that matters to me.
All that matters is that she's here somewhere.
Breathing the same air. Walking the same paths.
Maybe one day I'll turn around in line and find her standing behind me.
Surprise will flash across those wide, round eyes before she buries it beneath that carefully crafted mask and pretends I don't affect her the way she affects me.
Yet every day ends the same, with her slipping through my fingers before I ever have the chance to reach her.
As I take the exit toward my place, I crank the music up.
“Let it be me,” plays the singer’s melodic vocals carrying out a raw plea for a woman he can’t let go of.
His mournful ballad pours out through the speakers as daylight begins to lessen, streaking the sky with its bluish hue across the horizon.
The winter solstice is approaching soon.
It’s the longest night of the year, and it feels fitting.
The world is tilting on its axis as it leans toward darkness, and it suits me because it matches my somber mood.
The air outside has become crisp, with the promise of winter, snow, and the kind of ice that turns the highways into sheets of glass and rural backroads into death traps. The lake on the left breathes in the last bits of dying light and exhales them out in silver puffs against the blackening sky.
I follow the curve of the road as the view opens ahead, leading me toward the dog park near my townhome.
People are scattered across the field with their dogs, tossing brightly colored discs into the air.
The dogs leap after them, crashing through piles of fallen leaves that burst upward before drifting back to the ground.
Laughter carries on the wind, taunting me with the kind of happiness that's supposed to feel familiar.
A couple stands shoulder to shoulder, fingers intertwined as their dogs weave between their legs.
They look content. Complete. Everything I should want, yet I can't bring myself to envy them because my thoughts are somewhere else entirely.
The world keeps moving, indifferent to the fact that mine came to a halt the moment Rose walked through my parents' front door.
Around me, conversations drift on the breeze while dogs race through piles of fallen leaves and their owners laugh as though nothing has changed.
The moment I saw Rose, something awakened in me.
It was a pull I never knew existed, one that burned through every certainty I'd ever had about myself.
I'd spent my life believing I needed no one.
Then I met Rose. It wasn’t a lustful desire nor a fleeting attraction, it was something older.
Something deeper, etched into my soul and seared into my flesh.
My chest aches for her. My mind screams, knowing with every fiber of my being that she is mine, just as I am hers.
I don’t want someone else’s touch or another’s presence.
Definitely not another’s warmth from a random hook-up.
I want her and only her. The ache burrows deeper, refusing to loosen its grip no matter how hard I fight it.
Fate carved her into me the moment she appeared, and nothing in this world or the next will ever make her leave my sight again once I find her.
The world keeps trying to pull me back to the life I had before Rose, but I don't think I can go back.
My parents always told me that family isn't only the one you're born into.
It's also the one fate places in your path.
Their closest friends became ours, and their children became my cousins in every way that mattered.
I grew up watching my father find his soulmate in my mother, proof that fate doesn't merely cross paths.
It claims hearts and forges bonds that become family.
I grip the steering wheel a little tighter as the sky deepens into night.
My Uncle Jameson texted, wanting to know if I need help with my studies.
He’s eager for me to take over the family business in cybersecurity with him.
With the promise to return his text with a follow-up call soon, I pull into the parking space in front of my place and shut off the engine.
The two bags of groceries that I purchased at the co-op sit in the passenger seat, mocking me, knowing that I will be dining alone.
I grab both bags, sling my backpack over my shoulder, and try to juggle everything while unlocking the door.
The keys slip through my fingers, and they hit the concrete with a metallic clunk.
“Shit.” The word falls out in a ragged breath. I bend over to grab them, but the movement sends my backpack sliding off my shoulder. It smacks into one of the bags and sends apples rolling across the ground. “Perfect,” I mutter.
I tip my head back as I stare up at the darkening sky, not a star in sight, silently asking whatever deity is up there what I did to deserve this giant FU it’s been handing me all day.
That’s when I hear footsteps coming my way and see a woman around my age approaching.
She has a little dog in an infant carrier strapped to her, forward-facing of all things.
The little mutt has its fur pulled back with two barrettes with orange and black bows.
She slows, eyes widening, and gazing at the mess around my feet.
She smiles shyly, a look of concern on her face, surrounded by the fallen produce.
Without asking, she crouches down and starts gathering my runaway groceries, placing each item into the torn paper bag.
I stoop over and help collect the last of the bruised apples as she hands the rest of the groceries to me, standing with her little dog clutched to her chest protectively to calm the animal, which is squirming at the unfamiliar person near her.
“Hi,” she says, with a bright smile and voice to match.
She offers the bag first, then extends her hand outward.
I stare at it. At her. At the mismatched bows on her dog in the infant carrier.
Wait, is the dog wearing a sweater? Finally, I take her hand because not doing so would seem cruel, given that she is just being nice.
“Hi. I’m Callie,” she says, smiling so big that it shows the large dimples in her cheeks. She’s the type of person who beams at elders and little kids, stops to pick up someone’s dropped groceries. The kind that I’m not sure whether to thank or run away from.
“Hi…and thanks.” My voice sounds out of place next to hers.
I adjust the grocery bag against my hip, its handles torn, and reach for my backpack again.
“I’m Alex," I say, looking around and letting the awkward silence linger.
I can't tell if I should invite her in like any decent neighbor would or run inside and shut the door.
I see movement out of the corner of my eye.
A man is walking over toward us alongside a dog wearing a giant plastic cone.
Callie turns toward them, and her face lights up instantly.
Her smile is wide as she waves them over.
And just like that, something in my chest eases.
Relief. He joins her side without hesitation, stepping in with a familiarity that suggests a shared, happy life.
His arm brushes hers, and she naturally leans into him.
“This is my boyfriend, Denver,” she says, looking up at him with obvious fondness.
Denver sizes me up in a quick assessing glance. He’s protective of her, and even though he doesn’t feel threatened by me, he’s curious. I can see it written on his face. Callie jumps in before he can say anything. “He dropped all his groceries, and I just came to help him out.”
“I just moved here,” I say, trying to get through the awkward introductions.
Denver nods, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Us, too. We’re over in the next set of townhomes—the one with the grey SUV out front.”
“Do you guys go to school here?” I ask.
He grins, glancing over at Callie. “Nah,” he says, scratching at the top of the dog’s head.
“I work at the medical center, and Callie took a job at the Upper Valley animal shelter.” She adjusts the tiny dog, who is beginning to shiver in the carrier.
Up close, she appears older and fragile, with cloudy, unfocused eyes.
“This little girl was surrendered,” Callie says, stroking the Yorkie’s head.
“She’s almost completely blind, and her arthritis is awful.
The cold makes it worse, so I carry her most places, since she can’t see.
” She chuckles softly, but there is a sadness underneath it.
“The sweater helps, even though I know it looks ridiculous.”
I nod at the dog with the cone at Denver’s feet. “Are they both from the shelter?”
“Yes,” she says immediately. “We foster a lot. There are so many that need homes.” Her eyes soften, kind, the type of bleeding heart seeking out the good in anything and everything.
“We actually need another weekend volunteer. Like…badly.” She winces when her boyfriend nudges her, rolling his eyes, but there is only playfulness there.
I straighten slightly. “Yeah?”
Her face brightens, her eyes hopeful. “Yeah, if you’re interested—”
“I might be interested in helping out,” I say, surprising even myself. “Maybe even fostering or adopting.” I shrug, glancing toward my townhouse. “I live alone, and I think I’d maybe enjoy having a companion.”
Callie beams at me, then reaches into her cross-body bag and pulls out a card. “Here.” She presses it into my hand. “Why don’t you come by this weekend to get an orientation and meet everyone? Say, nine a.m. Saturday? You can meet the dogs there. We also have cats, if you’re a cat person.”
My nose scrunches up involuntarily, and she laughs.
“Me neither.”
I nod. “Okay, I can do that.”
With another final smile, she and Denver turn back toward their building. One dog sits blind in a carrier, and the other bumps its cone into Denver’s leg, as the strange little group disappears around the corner.
I step inside my place. The townhouse is just as I left it, empty except for the echo of my footsteps as I carry my groceries to the counter.
I stand there listening to the hum of the refrigerator and the distant laughter drifting in from the back patio.
Maybe a dog would help. Maybe something uncomplicated would make the next year and a half go by more easily.
Human company comes with expectations, but a dog?
Yeah, that might be exactly what I need.