"Alright, here's the plan," I turn to Megan in the apartment corridor, tug on my black leather glove and lower my voice to a whisper. "I'll bust down the door, we have approximately ninety seconds to get what we need and get out. Remember our escape route. The door at the end of the corridor opens into a stairwell. Rendezvous at the car at ten past nine. Remember, ninety seconds."

"Bea," she slips the beanie off my head and drops it into my duffle bag. "We have as long as we need because Kevin is out of town. How about I meet you at the front door when we're both done."

"Look, Megan," I straighten up and drop the whisper. "I have very little joy in my life right now and if I decide to turn this into a black ops mission, just go along with it."

She rolls her eyes with amusement and heads to the front door with her own duffle bag. "Come on Agent Blake."

I guess I had gone a little overboard. Head to toe in black lycra and gloves might not have been needed but I'm pretty sure that I'm having some sort of extended episode. So I'm rolling with it. However, I don't bust down the door. I let Megan unlock it with her key which she drops onto the hall table the moment that we get inside.

"Won't be needing that," she smiles over her shoulder. She'd dressed a little more casual than me. Jeans and a knee length coat and scarf. I might have worn something similar if I hadn't been so carried away after we made these plans on the phone last night.

The two of us split off. She heads into dad's room and I go to mine. Which is where I find Lucinda. Putting all of my clothes into boxes.

"Lucinda." She startles and stares at me with my favourite pair of culottes in her hand. "Are you boxing up my stuff?"

"Sí," she nods, fidgeting with obvious nerves. There are boxes on the floor and on the bed. I glance over at the closet and it's almost bare apart from a shelf of shoes. "Mr Blake tell me pack. Bethany move. Pack clothes."

I swallow. He wastes no time. Bastard. I'm almost tempted to go into his office and shit on his desk. A small parting gift. Perhaps I'd just throw his bed out the window. Or poison his food in the fridge.

That got dark fast.

No. I wouldn't touch his things. I didn't want legal implications. I just wanted my stuff and a new life. It made me realise though, I'd have to take absolutely everything that's important to me. If he was being this efficient so fast, I doubt he'd waste much more time clearing the entire room out so that he can turn it into a gym or rec room.

"Uh," I nod and drop the duffel bag. "Yep. It needs to go into Mr Blake's car." I point downwards and then steer an invisible wheel, like I'm driving a car. She nods along. "The boxes need to go into Mr Blake's car. I'll call reception to help."

"I call," she points at herself and scurries past me. "I call. Boxes in Mr Blake's car."

She's gone before I can let her know that I don't mind doing it. Part of me wishes that I could take Lucinda with me. Not so that I have a maid around. Just because she deserves better than to work for a bastard like Kevin.

I don't waste time with my task. Which is getting as much as I can into the two spare boxes that are here and the duffle bag I brought. I'm grateful that the boxes are here. I hadn't thought about how little I'd be able to get into one bag. I'd been too focused on dressing up for a covert mission.

The rest of the shoes are packed, my laptop and personal items. Little trinkets or knick knacks that I'd collected or been gifted over time. I'm almost done with my photo wall when Megan appears at the threshold of the room with her bag visibly more full than it had been when we arrived.

"Ya know," I pull a photo down, one of Dylan and I and refuse to give it much attention as I slip it inside of the folder that I'm using to keep the pictures safe. "I didn't see you here a whole lot. How much stuff could have accumulated?"

"Most of it is books," she explains. "Your dad works a lot. I filled my time with reading."

"Reading what?"

"Whatever," she shrugs and drops the bag. Before I can tell her not to bother, she starts pulling photos down with me. She's careful and gentle with a feather light touch. So I relax and let her help. "If I want to know more about something, I read. I love autobiographies and non fiction. But I do read the occasional romance novel."

"I hope you get that one day."

She pauses with a photo in her hand. One of mom and I. She's not looking at the photo though. She's looking at me. "Get what?"

"A novel worthy romance."

"Really?"

"Yeah," I smile at one of the staff that works downstairs as Lucinda escorts him in and shows him what needs to go into the Rover downstairs. "You deserve it. You're smart and beautiful and way too good for someone like Kevin. I can totally imagine you as a leading lady."

She ducks her head and grins. "That's sweet. Thank you, Bea. You know you didn't have to borrow your dads car. I would have given you a ride back to Allie's."

I wave her off and slip the last photo into my folder. I can't believe I just pulled twenty five years worth of memories off my wall in a matter of minutes. In fact, looking at the room now, I can't believe how bare it is. I'm gone. There's no trace of me apart from the bed which isn't made and never is. My gaze travels to the window seat on the other side of the room and I feel a pang in my chest.

"Um thanks for the offer," I tell Megan. "I might have accepted a ride before I realised how much crap I have. Never mind. You get everything?"

She nods and picks her bag up again. The teenage kid hauling boxes appears again and grabs two more.  "Yeah I got what I left behind."

"If you want to dip his toothbrush in the toilet or stick fish in his curtain rails, I'll pretend that I know nothing."

She laughs and drums her manicured nails on the doorframe. Her expression is full of want. Want to do something awful to a man who deserves nothing less. But she shakes her head and her shoulder length waves swish. "Not this time."

"Yeah," I nod and run my hands along the bed frame. "I might need a minute so go ahead and uh, I'll see you around? We'll grab coffee or something?"

"I'd like that."

I smile and feel inspired. She inspires me. I want to have that sort of strength. So self assured and aware of what she deserves. She didn't even hesitate to walk out of his life after what he'd done and although never settling for less should be done more often, it isn't. So often people give out chance after chance after chance. It's refreshing to see a mind made up and not a moment of hesitation. Her strength too. She's handling it so well. I suppose the relationship was only four months. That was a long time for me but probably nothing to her. I couldn't tell for sure.

Now alone, I wander over to the window seat and take one last look out at the view below. My spot. The place that offered comfort when I was struggling to sleep or think. My sanctuary. The blankets were all packed. The pillows too. But I sat down on the seat and soaked it all in for a moment. The building tops. The windows. The cars and cabs. The people. The lights. This window seat saw me through some rough times. Knowing that I might never sit in it again was the hardest part of this so far.

It suddenly felt like I was losing everything. My dad. My home. My best friend. My window seat.

Breathing became harder. Tears streamlined down my cheeks and the view outside blurred out of focus. I wanted nothing more than to start a new life. To let go of everything that was keeping me from happiness and it hadn't occurred to me that letting go of the old life would be so hard. That it would require so much sacrifice.

My phone wasn't a big deal. I could have let the clothes go too. But the rest. That was a hell of a lot harder than I imagined.

"Bea?"

I snap my head up and wipe furiously at my eyes until I can see Brecken walking into the room. The boxes are all gone now. I hadn't noticed the bellhop collecting the last of them. I wondered if he'd seen me having a breakdown and decided that it was a bit above his pay grade. Fair enough.

"What's going on? Dylan's been legit losing his fucking mind for almost a week. Where have you been?"

I didn't even know how to answer him. Answers meant thought and thought right now, meant hurt. And I was doing enough of that as it was.

"Bea?" He came further into the room and peered around. "You have to tell me what's happening right now. Why are you crying? Where's your shit? Who was the hot blonde that I passed in the hall? Where's your pho—"

"You ask a lot of questions."

"You're not giving me any answers."

"I don't have to."

"Bea."

"Brecken."

He sighs and sits on the window seat, facing me with his enormous shoulders and biceps waiting to rip right out of his dress shirt. He must be on a break at work because he's wearing pin stripe, his top three buttons are undone and he has his rings on. Brecken has work attire and it's sleaze as hell but it works.

"Alright. Fine. We'll start with a simple question. Where's yo— oh dude. Your finger is bleeding."

I glance down and sure enough, my cuticle is pooling with red liquid. I wince and shove my finger into my mouth. That happens sometimes when I pick too much. Although, I hadn't even noticed that I was doing it.

"Where's your stuff?"

"In Kevin's car downstairs."

"Why?"

"He told Megan that my mom is dead and I told him that I wish he was dead and then he hit me and told me to move out."

"Who's Meg— he hit you?!"

"Megan is the hot blonde."

He stands up and looks down at me with disbelief. "He hit you?! Bea. What the fuck? Where is he?"

"Dunno. Out of town. I just came to grab my stuff."

Brecken rests his hands on his hips and starts to pace. The fact that he isn't flirting with me or being a douchenozzle is so disturbing that I want him to leave and be mr serious somewhere else. All of this change is painful. I need him to be Brecken.

"I'm gonna fuck him up if I see him," he points at me and palms his stubble coated jaw. "Alright. Next question. Why aren't you talking to Dylan?"

"Because I kissed him and almost told him that I love him but then Charlie looked sad and I couldn't go through with it. You can be the best man at their wedding now. I dropped out."

The room became dead silent while Brecken stared at me with his jaw on the floor. Rendering him speechless was such a feat that I wished I wasn't so miserable so that I could revel in the triumph. Instead I just felt regret forming. Here came another speech about how much we belong together.

"Bea. You love him?"

"Don't start."

He sat back down and threw his fist in the air. "This is perfect. You have to tell him."

"Tell him and die, Breck. I swear. Don't utter a single word."

"Bea," he stared with incredulity. "You can't let him marry Charlie. I'd rather have you for a sister in law. Come on. Don't do this to me. Don't let him go through with this. We'll end up stuck with her. Take one for the team."

"I don't want to talk about this," I stood up and went for the door, frustrated that my moment with the window seat was interrupted and my goodbye was tarnished. Instead, all I got was a fleeting look over my shoulder as I left the room. And most of the view was obstructed by Brecken following me.

"Okay. Fine. That doesn't explain the silent treatment. He's worried, Bea. I haven't seen him so messed up since your mom was diagnosed."

I almost lose stride. I almost turn around and beg him to tell me everything he knows. But the more I know, the harder it will be for me to keep this up. And I'd gone almost a week without calling Dylan to get me through a crisis. Or calling him to breathe with me. Or calling him to get me out of a bad date. Or calling him to rant about a series that we're both watching.

That was progress. Sure I'd thrown my phone off a six story patio, cried myself to sleep for the last five nights, forgotten to shower and decided to dress up as a blonde Black Widow for a simple belongings retrieval. But I was here and I was alive and I was getting through the long hours without him. It'd get easier. Or so I heard.

"Bea, stop," Brecken grips my elbow before I can reach the front door and spins me around. "You're for real moving out and Dylan isn't even here? Thats how bad this is?"

He gets it. Dylan has wanted me to move out for a long time. He'd have been here for this. He would have helped me pack. He would have given me as long as I wanted with the window seat. He would have brought snacks and music and danced around the room with boxes, celebrating.

"I can't talk about this right now, Breck. Stop pushing me."

"Why can't you talk about it?"

"Because I'm a mess!" I shout so loud that he flinches. "I'm a fucking mess. Alright? I've accepted it and now I'm doing something about it and I need time. I need to do it alone. I'll call Dylan when I'm ready."

He follows me out into the corridor and shuts the door behind him. "You don't have to do it alone, ya know. We all care. Whatever's going on, we can help."

"Not this time," I murmur, a quiver in my tone and a blur in my vision. "I'm an adult. I need to start acting like one and I can't expect everyone to put me back together whenever shit gets rough, Breck. It's toxic. So please just leave me alone."

Before he can stop me again, I slip into the stairwell and lock the door behind me. His fists banging on the thick wood echoes through the vacant stairwell and I head down as fast as I can, careful not to trip over because I can't see a thing in front of me. When I get to the garage, I find dad's Rover in its reserved space and use the sensor on my keychain to start it.

There are boxes jammed in the boot, the backseat and there's one on the passenger seat too. It makes a little difficult to see while I'm reversing but I manage and then I'm on the road. Alone with thoughts that leave me breathless. Not for the first time in the last week, I itch to reach for my cellphone so that I can call Dyl and tell him what I'm doing.

My lips start to move. "Hey Dilly bear," I say to no one as I manoeuvre through traffic. New York is a nightmare. "Guess what I just did."

No answer. My gaze begins to mist over again.

"I just moved out of home. Yeah, I know. About time right. We should celebrate. Ideas?"

A quiet sniffle turns into silent but painful sobbing. It feels like my throat is closing over and my nose stings.

"What about IHOP? We can pregame before we go. Forget the clubs. Pancakes is the business."

His voice, clear as ever in the back of my head tells me how proud he is.

I knew you could do it, Bea. Don't forget, you promised me that I could cook the first meal in your very own apartment. You said that when we followed Breck around while he was house hunting. I'm not forgetting.

It warms me from the inside out and I know that if I don't pull the car over, I'm going to cause an accident for the sheer fact that I can't see. So I indicate, move through the lanes and swing into a parking space in front of a private garage. I'm cutting off the footpath and I know that it's someone's personal space but I won't be here for long. I just need to let it out.

"Why did I have to fall in love with my best friend?" I let my head fall onto the steering wheel and my shoulders shake. "Why did I have to kiss him? I could have gotten over the fucking crush if it wasn't for that kiss. Why am I so fucked up!?"

No one answers me. Of course. I wipe at my face and realise that I'm still wearing the leather gloves. In fact, when I peer down and assess the entire get up, I choke with laughter at how suspicious I look. It's enough to calm down so that I can get back on the road. I doubt it'd look good if someone saw me hanging about in this outfit in front of a strangers home.

I wipe my nose on my sleeve, because let's face it, I've delved this deep into total madness, I might as well take full advantage of the fact that I'm a gross loser. Plus, I need a shower and these clothes are going in the hamper as soon as I get back to Allie's.

The car beeps when I slam it into reverse and swing out of the spot. I don't get far before I'm thrusted forward in my seat, there's a loud crunch and the wind is almost knocked out of me from the speed at which I'd been forced to a stop. I swallow and begin to panic as I stare at the big brand symbol in the middle of the steering wheel.

I just reversed into a car. I just fucking hit someone with my dad's car. Oh fuck no. This can not be happening. Could my life get any fucking worse right now?!

There's a tap at the window and I reluctantly look to the side to see a tall police officer standing outside. He gestures that I roll the window down. So I do and he leans down. "Morning, Miss. Do you realise that you just hit a police cruiser?"