"You still smell of him. Go wash again," her mother's voice rang out, sharp and cutting, as if the words themselves could slice through the thick tension that had settled in the house.
Nora stood barefoot in the cold-tiled bathroom, her hands gripping the sink so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her reflection stared back at her, hollow-eyed and distant. She barely recognized herself. The woman she saw in the mirror was a stranger, someone who had been emptied out and left to crumble.
The lavender soap sat in the corner of the sink, a cruel reminder of her mother's insistence that she wash him away. Scrub herself clean. She'd done it already. Twice now but her mother's words still clung to her, just like the scent of him.
"I said, go wash again," her mother repeated, her voice softer now but no less firm.
Nora's shoulders sagged as she turned on the faucet, letting the freezing water pour over her trembling hands. She hadn't argued. She couldn't. Arguing would mean explaining. And how could she explain the truth when she didn't even know how to carry it herself?
The day it happened played on a loop in her mind, like a record stuck on repeat. "How do I make it stop?" she pondered as tears streamed down her face.
It had started with the buzz of her phone at dawn, messages pouring in from friends and each one carrying the weight of truth she hadn't asked for. The screenshots had come next, dropping into her inbox like bombs. His texts. His photos. His plans with someone else.
"I had a great time last night. Can't wait to see you again."
Her heart had dropped like a stone. Her chest had grown tight, each breath harder than the last as she scrolled through the evidence. The timestamps were fresh only days old. "Wow" was all that left her already pale lips.
She remembered sitting on the edge of her bed, her phone clutched in her hands, her stomach churning with nausea and disbelief. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real. Not him. Not Caleb. Not us.
They'd been together for three years. He was the one who had promised her forever, who had made her laugh until her ribs ached, who had kissed her forehead and told her she felt like home.
And now this?
She had called him immediately, her hands shaking as she pressed his name on the screen. The phone rang and rang, but he didn't answer. She left a voicemail, her voice breaking as she whispered, "Call me back. Please."
He didn't.
By the time the evening came, she had worked herself into a frenzy, half hurt, half furious. I mean...who wouldn't. The evidence still sat on her phone, glaring at her, demanding answers. She had driven over to his apartment, rehearsing what she would say, how she would confront him. She needed him to explain, to tell her why, to make it make sense as if it ever will.
But when she pulled up to his building, the street was blocked off. Flashing red and blue lights filled the air, and a crowd had gathered on the sidewalk.
Her stomach sank. Something was wrong.
She didn't even remember how she got out of the car or how she pushed through the crowd. All she remembered was the officer who stopped her, his face pale and grim as he asked, "Are you Nora?"
The rest of the conversation had blurred, but the words "car accident"and "didn't survive" had hit her like a wrecking ball. No this couldn't be.
Caleb was gone.
And just like that, her anger had dissolved, replaced by a tidal wave of guilt and anguish. The confrontation she'd planned would never happen. The questions she had would never be answered.
She had loved him. She had hated him. And now, she had lost him. Life couldn't be more cruel
The sound of the shower brought her back to the present.
Nora scrubbed her hands, her wrists, her arms, the soap foaming up and swirling down the drain. Her skin was already raw from the first two times she'd done this, but she didn't care. She couldn't stand the way his scent lingered on her, like a ghost that refused to leave.
Her mother appeared in the doorway again, her face softening as she looked at Nora. "Honey…" she began, stepping closer.
"Don't," Nora cut her off, her voice trembling. "Don't tell me it's going to get better. Don't tell me to let him go. I can't. I don't know how." she stammered.
Her mother sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "I'm not saying it's easy. But torturing yourself like this won't bring him back. It won't change what happened."
Nora turned off the shower, her hands dripping as she stared at the sink. "You don't understand," she whispered. "I found out he cheated on me, Mom. The same day he died. How do I even..." Her voice broke, and she shook her head. "How do I grieve someone who betrayed me? How do I hate someone and miss them at the same time?"
Her mother's face softened further, but she didn't have an answer.
Nora looked back at the mirror, at the girl who still smelled like lavender and love and lies. She thought about the Caleb she had loved. Haa. The Caleb who had kissed her in the rain, who had taught her how to dance in their tiny living room, who had made her feel like she was the center of his world.
And then she thought about the texts. The lies. The betrayal that had shattered everything.
She grabbed the soap again, lathering it onto her hands with shaky breaths. "I still smell like him," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I'll go wash again."
Her mother watched silently from the doorway, her heart breaking for her daughter but knowing there was nothing she could do.
The water ran. The soap bubbled. And Nora scrubbed, trying to erase a man who had left her with nothing but questions and the faint lingering scent of what could have been. Wow