Sara left me today.

I sit in the dark of the living room, in her favorite chair, fingering her favorite afghan. Her dog, Lily, looks up at me, her eyes questioning. How do I explain to this canine child that her momma won’t be back?

Blindly I stumble to the kitchen. Once there, I look around, forgetting what I came for. Sara’s coffee cup, the big blue one with the white S, sits in the washboard, dutifully rinsed, turned upside down to drain.

Upside down.

Maybe if I sleep, when I awake this nightmare will be over. The bedroom, usually our refuge from the world, is full of memories. The bedclothes are still rumpled from our early morning lovemaking. Sara’s scent permeates the room.

I lean on the doorjamb. My world is spinning; I’m out of control. I rush for the bathroom to spill my guts. Kneeling on the cool linoleum, my forehead against the porcelain, nothing feels real.

The jangle of my cell phone rouses me from my stupor. I struggle to remove it from my pants pocket. Maybe it’s her. Maybe it’s Sara telling me it’s all a mistake.

“Kris, let us in. We’re at your front door.”

My friends, my dear caring friends, are here to try to dull the pain.

“Go away,” I say.

“No. If you don’t open the door, we’ll break in.”

I crawl to the door, all my strength gone with my guts. I can barely reach the doorknob, but I manage to get it open. Lacie and Sharon pick me up off the floor, holding me close as they lay me on the sofa. I close my eyes against the sad, sympathetic look in their eyes.

Someone washes my face with a damp cloth. I hear kibble as it’s poured into Lily’s dish. That was why I went to the kitchen; to feed Sara’s dog. But I saw her cup upside down in the washboard.

Upside down.

“Oh, my god!” I cover my face with my hands and finally the tears begin to flow.

I cry for what seems like hours, first in Lacie’s arms, then in Sharon’s. What good friends I have but I would trade them both to get my Sara back.

But she’s upside down. In a ditch. Off the freeway.

Sara left me today.

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