Short Story

I nervously sat down on the cold wooden chair in the dimly lit coffee shop where we first met. The gloomy fall weather matches the unspoken tension between us, I tug the cardboard mug holder around my morning coffee. He is looking straight at me, confusion and concern plaguing his expression, while I don’t avert my eyes from my fidgeting hands tightly ripping the ends of this coffee mug holder. Afraid that if I looked up he would see the sorrow and guilt in my eyes for what I was about to do. I try to gather my thoughts and fully think through what I want to say.

When I finally lifted my chin up and glanced toward him, we locked eyes and in that instance, I started to remember. The long walks along the beach, the long night phone calls spent laughing about everything and nothing, the little things he would only notice about me, and simply every single time he had ever made me feel special. I looked down and a small smile crept up my face thinking back to those days.

I can tell he is trying to keep it together but the silence is killing him. He was always so impatient, however, he could tell by my actions that something was wrong, which is probably why he hadn’t abruptly said anything yet. He starts to nervously bounce his leg up and down causing the table to slightly shake as my coffee mug bounced along with it. Out of instinct, I separated my hands from each other and was about to place them on his knee to stop his leg from bouncing. However, I had to quickly stop myself.

I slowly remembered why I chose to meet with him in the first place when my face fell into a frown. I started to doubt my decision. I was overthinking everything, we were fine. I looked up at him again and was ready to take it all back. To let him know that there is nothing to worry about. That all is good between us and always will be. It’s not like we ever fought, we didn’t. We never got into arguments and he was always so understanding and supportive of my life and my decisions. He never judged me for anything and instead encouraged me to do what I love no matter what.

As I look up at him ready to act as if nothing is wrong and forget about this whole thing, I slowly lift my arm back up to place on his knee when suddenly in the corner of my eye, I saw a small ladybug rapidly flutter its wings. It gracefully flew towards the window closest to my right. As I look straight at the ladybug, I start to remember.

Every summer in Egypt, we would drive down to the countryside and go down to my grandfather's farmhouse. My brother, all my first cousins, our parents, my grandparents, and I would all go and spend a month there enjoying nature and farming. The farmhouse we would visit was my great-grandfather's old house and was where he grew up so it was a long-lasting tradition to go here for as long as I can remember. We would all have breakfast together at the break of dawn, spend time enjoying nature picking fruits, playing football in our backyard, and more. It was a typical humid summer day in Egypt, my cousins were all playing football in the grass area between the legumes and the entrance to the house. I was walking around when I came across a small insect toppled over on its back. It was small, red, and had little black dots on its side. It was a ladybug and as I watched it, I slowly realized it was struggling to get back up on its legs. I wanted to help it so I started to brainstorm ideas to turn it over without hurting it. I started to slowly bring my foot close to it so I could turn it back over. However, I suddenly felt two arms push, my then, small body forward and found myself trying to catch myself from falling by bringing my foot forward. I look behind me and see my cousin running past me to grab the ball from beside me. I was a little taken back and when I started to straighten back up and collect myself I took a step back and my ears were quickly hit with a loud crunch. I slowly lifted my leg up, praying under my breath that I didn’t do what I thought I did when I witnessed the massacre of the poor little ladybug. Half of its body was splattered on the floor where it used to lay while some residue was left on the bottom of my shoe. I was stunned and found my mind trying to think of ways I could fix it or take it back. I didn’t want his life to end. I didn’t intend to do that. I wanted it to live a long life and now it can’t. It was all my fault. I had control over my actions. I could have been more careful. As I continued to look down at where his little body used to lie, my eyes slowly started to flood with tears. I couldn’t control it when I broke down crying. My cousin who initially pushed me came up to me and started to comfort me. He kept on repeating, “Hey, you’re fine, nothing happened okay, I’m sorry I pushed you, please don’t tell any of the parents.” I pushed my cousin’s arm away from my shoulder and rolled my eyes. “I’m not crying because you pushed me, I’m fine!”. He then looked up at me confused, “Then what’s wrong, is everything okay?” I looked straight back up at him and said, “No, everything is not okay! He’s dead and it’s all my fault!”. “Whose dead!” he exclaimed suddenly much more serious and worried. I pointed towards the ground where his splattered body lay and as he looked down squinting his eyes slightly he realized what I had killed. He looked back up at me with a small smile and opened his arms and engulfed me in a hug. I continued to cry and I could feel him try and hold back from laughing but I didn’t care. I was too upset to be mad at him. He pulls me away, looks down at me, and says, “Sometimes you can’t control everything in life and instead of trying so hard to do so sometimes you just need to let go. I’m sorry that you had to witness such a terrible thing but life has its hardships and we have to learn to face them head-on.” I hugged my cousin back harder as he carried me and took me back into the farmhouse.

As I sit here in this coffee shop thinking back to that day. All I can think about is what my cousin told me. That’s when I realized I was trying to control and avoid something that was going to inevitably happen. I feel this sudden urge of confidence in my decision which I didn’t have previously as I move my hands back up on the table and softly place them around my coffee mug. I take a sip of my drink, look up, and make direct eye contact with him. I move my drink to the side and cross my hands together over the table. A small frown is evident on my face but this time it wasn’t because I was uncertain about my decision. I was upset because of what I knew had to be done.

I look at him and say, “I think we need to break up.”