There Is No Light in Darkness by Claire Contreras

home, Coldplay’s “Fix You” comes on the radio.
    When you lose something you can’t replace.
     
    When you love someone, but it goes to waste.
     
    Could it be worse?
     
    Cue the goddamn tears. Damn Chris Martin and his ability to make me cry every time he opens his damn mouth.
    When I get to my apartment, I call out for Aubry, but he’s not home. I go straight to my room and take out my cell phone. Ten missed calls. Three from Russell, five from Cole, one from Becky, and one from Aubry. I sort through my text messages and see one from Aimee and one from Cole. Aimee’s is to ask me how it went with Mark. I reply quickly saying it went well. Cole’s message simply says: I’m always thinking about you. I get butterflies and smile at my screen before calling Russell.
    “Hey, babe,” he says with his sexy accent.
    “Hey, sorry I didn’t call back earlier.”
    “No, that’s fine. How did your meeting go?”
    “It went well. I think I’m coming down with something, though. I don’t feel well at all,” I groan.
    “Oh? Do you want me to come over and bring you some soup?” he asks concerned.
    “No, thank you. I think I’m just going to sleep it off. I’ll call you in the morning.”
    I text message Aubry and Becky. I let Aubry know I’m home and going to take a nap. I tell Becky I’ll call her back tomorrow because I’m not feeling well. This should buy me enough time to read the letter from Shelley. I call Cole back because he won’t accept a simple text message, and I really need to hear his voice right now.
    “Hello?” he answers on the second ring. He sounds like he’s out of breath.
    “Hey, were you working out?” I ask.
    “Uh ... no, what’s up?” he replies clearing his throat. I hear a woman say something to him in the background that I can’t make out. “Hold on a sec,” he says to me and puts the phone down. I hear his muffled voice, talking to who I assume must be Erin. He sounds like he’s trying to calm her down. Then I hear her scream, “You picked up the phone in the middle of fucking me! Who the fuck are you talking to?” That’s when I hang up and run to the bathroom to throw up my breakfast, since that’s all I’ve eaten all day. I was already feeling a little queasy from the mixture of not eating, Shelley’s letter, and my encounter with Mark, but Cole answering the phone in the middle of ... Oh my god, I feel sick again. I sit on the cold tile next to the toilet, clutching my stomach for a few minutes.
    I try to reason that he wasn’t thinking when he answered the phone. It’s normal for us to drop everything and tend to one another. He didn’t mean to let me know what he was doing. I’m thinking all of this, but none of it makes me feel any better about the situation. The visual is already there, silently plaguing me. Now all I can think about is his hands holding her face as he kisses her softly. His lips on her skin. His body rocking against hers as he whispers how beautiful she is. I shut my eyes tightly and cover my ears with my hands. I can’t deal with the thought. I can’t. I can’t think about him with somebody else anymore. I know I have no right to feel this way, but I can’t help it. The thought of him with another woman has been bothering the hell out of me lately.
    I get up and press my palms to the counter. I look at my reflection, and I realize I look the way I feel—like death. My white frilly blouse is half tucked out of my navy blue pencil skirt. My clothes are wrinkled, my makeup is running, and my eyes are red. I have little freckles around my eyes from my convulsive vomit.
    I laugh at myself. I can’t believe it took that to make me vomit. Why would he answer the phone in the middle of sex? I groan. The thought alone makes me hover over the toilet seat again. I need to hold it together. This is stupid, I tell myself repeatedly as I brush my teeth. When I finally get in the shower, I turn on the water and sit on the floor sobbing as I