She was sitting inside, cold hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee. The rain did not trickle down the windows – rather, it flew from the clouds with a hidden ferocity. And no one felt safe outside in a rain like that.

Her coffee tasted too bitter. The restaurant felt too crowded. She wondered what it would feel like to be anywhere else but there.

The rain made musical sounds against the windows. It felt like a sad song.

She thought of her car, sitting idly in the parking lot. All of his books were sitting on the back seat. It somehow made her feel closer to him – reading the pages that his eyes had read, his notes that took up most of the margins. Touching the creases on the dog-eared pages.

The only thing she would regret would be the sad look in his green eyes when he found out she was gone.

Maybe she’d never see him again, maybe she would. All she knew as she stared out into the storm was that she needed to get away.

And, even then, she didn’t plan on ever coming back.