Losing Her by Mariah Dietz

mutually decided to get the hell out of Alaska after we endured another long winter. It didn’t stay dark all day in Sitka like it did further north, but the days were still too short. It was Landon that suggested we move to California, and before I could voice my reluctance at leaving, he placed a hand on my shoulder and said, “Sometimes you have to stop looking for something you already have.”
    We started submitting transfer requests within a week, and the plans to move were completed within a month. It all went smoothly, like returning to California with Landon and Jameson was what I had come to Alaska for.

I hadn’t realized I’d drifted off to sleep with my thoughts. Lately, I’m so consumed by them that I spend too much of the night trying to figure out what in the hell happened. I’m not in the habit of receiving many late night phone calls these days. Apparently being in a relationship ended those late night invitations. Plus, I’ve been shutting my phone off at night to avoid the temptation to call Ace since I kicked her out of my living room.
    I need some time. I need to figure out what in the hell happened. She knows I have trust issues, and right now I don’t know how to make things go back to the way they were. I roll over to grab my phone as it continues ringing, and my mind starts running in every direction as I try to make a decision about whether I should answer it or not. I need to stop ignoring her. Avoiding her is no better than her running.
    I look at the screen and sigh in disappointment when I see it’s Jameson calling, realizing how much I had been hoping it was her. I consider ignoring it. He and Landon are out at a local bar, watching a baseball game that I had refused to attend because I am still swimming in self-pity that’s quickly transforming into self loathing.
    “Yeah,” I answer, putting the phone to my ear.
    “Max, you’ve got to head to Ace’s man.”
    I sit up, hearing the stress in Jameson’s voice. “What’s going on?” I flip the covers off and pull on the same jeans I’d worn earlier.
    “David Bosse, he just died … he’s dead.”
    I hear him repeat my name a few times before I realize I’m no longer standing. “Shit.” I attempt to process this information while trying to recall the last time I saw David. I’ve been avoiding going home since my fight with Ace. It’s been a couple of weeks now, and the guilt over how things ended ties my stomach in knots.
    “How? When? Where is she?” The questions race out of my mouth, and my skin prickles with fear. I feel the foreign sting of tears cloud my vision, and my throat constricts. This can’t be real.
    I’ve been so wrapped up in my fears that Ace was getting ready to leave, and now this? David is the second father figure in my life to leave without warning.
    “I don’t know, man. Kendall just called. I could barely understand her, but she’s going to Ace’s. Her phone was off or something. Max, you should go, she’s going to need you. Whatever’s going on between you guys … tonight … she needs you.”
    “I’m leaving now.” I hang up and grab a T-shirt from my closet and slide on some flip flops before rushing out to my Jeep, still trying to make sense of the situation. What am I going to do? How is she going to react to me?
    I pull into her apartment complex as a flash of images race through my head: memories of David starting from the first day I met him until our last visit. He was friendly, compassionate, and had a great sense of humor, the complete opposite of what I allow myself to remember of my own father. David had a love for life and his daughters that was contagious. I found myself falling more in love with Ace, seeing and learning how much he loved her. This is going to kill her.
    Taking a few deep breaths, I open my car door and hear her crying over the sounds of the street before I can even see her. I know it’s her cry, just like I could pick out her blond hair in a sea of