"Well, it's the end, isn't it?"

I stared at her through tear-wet eyes. She was hurt by my bold and unrelenting expression, I could see it in her face.

My cell phone rang from the table across the room. We both ignored it. I opened my mouth to let a cry escape, but the words "I think this is the end, Nancy" replaced it.

"You'll stay in touch?" Her eyes were glassy as she raised a delicate hand to her cheek. A tear was inching its way across her skin. "Please tell me you'll call as much as possible."

The first tingle of remorse pulsed through me. I spared a weak smile.

"Of course."

I didn't mean it. I wouldn't have enough time to call. And even if I did, I doubt the new family would let me call her. She's a detriment to my health. Ask her to teach me about the Spanish Inquisition, and you'll have no problem; but tell her to coach me on life, and I'll end up in a speeding car off a cliff.

I looked at her, the miserable and lonely person who was not my Nancy, and I turned away. I could hear her crying behind me as I retreated from my house. The door suppressed a soft thunk as she threw something against it.

"Kristen, please don't go," she called from inside. "Please don't go."

It's for the better, I thought wistfully. I love you, Nancy. But I can't live like this.

She was still screaming inside; I could hear her from the top step of the porch. "What about me?" she was shrieking. "What about me?"

I made my way down the front steps and into the darkness that unfolded before me. I was going home.