- Sometimes letting go was better than hurting person you love. -

Ash flaked onto the fabric of her faded shorts and smoke disintegrated into the air as Irene gently flicked her cigarette.

The air was hot and muggy, laden with humidity that signified an impending storm. The sky was bleak and colorless, casting a gray, dreary light on her face.

The buzz of flies that whizzed through the humid air gave Irene a peaceful feeling, as she sat solitary in the broken lawn chair on the patio. She took a deep drag of her cigarette as she looked out at the pothole ridden street. 

It was a miserable town she lived in. It was small enough for everyone to know each other, and it was small enough for everyone to know too much. 

Irene looked down at her cigarette. It had burned down to the end, so she flicked it aside and ground it flat with her foot and pulled out another, deftly lighting it with one of the matches in her pocket. 

She took inhaled another mouthful of smoke, the screen door swinging open behind her with a squeak as Wendy walked out with two beers, condensation dripping from the bottles.

“Hey, I thought you agreed to stop smoking.” Wendy said with disgust as she set the bottles down on the little glass table that sat next to Irene.

Irene merely smirked and blew the smoke into her girlfriend’s face. “Just let me be for now. You know it helps calm me down.”

The latter just scrunched her nose and coughed, as she settled down in the chair across from Irene. “You’re lucky my parents are never home. You always have somewhere to crash.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t love me staying over at your house.”

Wendy scoffed. “All we ever do is drink, have , and get emotional. What is there to love?”

“Cheap beer, good , and crying with my girlfriend. Sounds like a date to me.” Irene replied, smiling teasingly as she leaned over to plant a kiss on Wendy’s alcohol tainted lips. 

Wendy returned the kiss, before gently pushing her away. “How long will you be here this time?”

Irene shrugged after a brief pause. “It depends on the mood my mother is in. She’s been drinking a lot more this past week.”

“She… didn’t do anything to you did she?” Wendy asked, eyes widened in concern. 

When Irene only looked away and took a sip of her beer, Wendy stood up and gently enveloped her in a hug.

“Show me.” Wendy whispered, as she Irene’s hair.

Irene smiled bitterly, as she raised the hem of her tee. Bruises in various shades of blue and purple marred the smooth skin of her back, raised and swollen. 

Wendy tenderly traced her fingers over the grotesque injuries, causing Irene to sharply inhale from pain. “Why do you never go to the authorities Irene? If this continues on, she’ll end up killing you one day.” She asked, voice laced with sadness and anger.

Irene pulled the edge of her shirt back down. “Because she’s not that bad when she’s not drunk off her . She’s all I have, after dad left.”

Her girlfriend slowly sat down in her chair, reaching over to grab Irene’s hands. “You know you always have me. We can always leave this town and forget everything.”

Irene immediately shook her head. “I can’t do that to you. You already do too much for me, and I can’t bear to take more from you.

“You know it’s you and me against the world right? I’ll give you all the love you need, because I know you would do the same for me.”

“I know.”

The smoke from Irene’s cigarette curled up, spiraling into the summer air. She paused, before laughing as her eyes glinted. “Let’s go get me some ice. You can help me apply it, after you get me out of my shirt.”

She took one last inhale and threw the half smoked cigarette on the patio, as she led Wendy into the house. The beers sat forgotten on the glass table, and the embers of the cigarette slowly dimmed as it burned out on the ground. 

Despite Irene’s laughter, the fear that gripped her heart crumbled her soul like the cigarette that laid bend and broken on the ground. 

-----

The fan revolved in the corner of the room, periodically blowing cool gusts of wind on Irene’s face. She lay awake, listening to the chirp of crickets outside and the buzz of mosquitoes that were stuck in the small space between the screen and the window.

Wendy slept beside her, the covers rising and falling with the rhythm of her breath. Irene felt safe when she was with Wendy. She could pretend everything was butterflies and roses; Wendy’s love filling the dark crevices and cracks of herself with color and beauty. But sometimes the cracks needed too much to heal, too much that Wendy couldn’t give. They loved each other to death, but love wasn’t love if one was killing the other. 

Irene looked at Wendy’s peaceful face, gaze flooding with love and tenderness. She tucked a stray strand of Wendy’s hair behind her ear, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“I hope you know I’ll always love you, no matter where I am.”

Irene slipped out of the covers, pulling on her denim shorts and changing into her old shirt. She slung her bag over her shoulder, as she reached in to pull out a folded piece of paper. She placed it on her pillow, where Wendy would clearly see it when she woke up. 

She prayed Wendy wouldn’t come looking for her once she read the letter. 

She pulled on her worn combats, glancing one last time towards the room where Wendy slept. The yellow glare of the streetlights shone through the broken blinds of the window; A ray of hope in the darkness. Irene turned, away from the pain, the sadness, the tears, and the safety of the love of her life. 

The screen door shut with a soft thud as Irene walked out. She didn’t look back.