She took a deep breath and turned around. The room was dim and quiet and empty. It was too quiet. She quickly turned on the television and though it was in Russian and she didn’t understand much of it, the sound was soothing and dispelled the overwhelming loneliness in the room. She brushed away a single tear defiantly and pulled her luggage from the closet. She tossed the case on the bed and unzipped the empty bag. It would not take her long to fill it. She busied herself in the bathroom, putting away her toiletries, finishing her hair. She had many things to pack. She had collected a few things in Moscow and St. Petersburg that made her wonder if she could make it all fit. She smiled to herself thinking it was a good thing the hand painted Russian dolls could nest inside each other. She remembered the story Alex told her when they purchased them. His mother was not home very often when he was small. She was competing in basketball at that time. But every time she would have to leave again after a visit, he would find the same nesting dolls sitting by his bed. There would be a small prize inside, sometimes it was only a coin or a piece of candy, but it was always there and always had something just for him inside. He said he knew she was thinking of him. She never failed to remember to do it and so she never failed to remember him. The story touched Zoey so much that she had to have those dolls. She smiled as she nestled them into her luggage. These dolls were painted with animals. The largest was, of course, a bear. She had already picked a spot for them in her loft in New York. There was a bright window sill in her bedroom where they would reside when she finally got home.
But home was still far away and she must think of Budapest now. She opened each of the drawers in the chest and removed her clothes, depositing them in the suitcase neatly. She had done a really good job of distracting herself with packing until she reached the last drawer. She opened it and her heart dropped. On the top of her pajamas was a red t-shirt with the Capitals logo on the front. She had worn his shirt to sleep in just the other night. Hesitantly, she reached inside the drawer pulling it out. It was very soft. She lifted it to her nose and held it against her cheek. It still smelled like him. She sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. I will never smell that again, she thought. She buried her face in the fabric and the tears finally took over. She slid down the edge of the bed to rest on the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees and cried. The grief overtook her for a few minutes. Her mind raced with thoughts of his touch, his kiss, the way it felt to have his strong arms around her.
Why? her heart screamed. Why did she have to meet him? She’d been doing just fine all alone. She’d been alone for a long time. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone. Why did he have to come into her life, make her love him and then break her heart?
The tears streamed down her cheeks and she angrily brushed them away.
“I wish I’d never met you,” she said out loud, wadding up the t-shirt and throwing it across the room. She sniffed and stared at the t-shirt. She took a few deep breaths. She didn’t mean that. It sounded completely ridiculous to her. He’d given her so much joy the past two weeks. No, she was not going to waste her energy or tarnish those memories by being mad at him. She got to her feet and crossed the room to pick up the t-shirt. She held it briefly to her chest, then folded it carefully and placed it in the suitcase.
She busied herself with the rest of her packing and sat back down on the bed when it was completed. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Four hours. There were four hours left until she needed to leave for the airport. She sighed. She glanced around the empty room and made a decision. She picked up the hotel phone and dialed.
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