“But we’re in love.”

“You were in love, and I guess you still are. More than ever now. But he’ll never speak to you again.”

A palpable misery emanated from her, a wave of icy numbness. The bench grayed. Its color ran down the street and into a storm drain. Bonnie felt every ounce of the rising melancholy. She wanted to die then. Just collapse and wither away until she was nothing but dust. Then she hoped the sun would explode and vaporize the entire planet, erasing every remnant of this moment from the memory of time.

Bonnie had to get away. She ran back to her apartment, shut the door behind her, and wiped away her tears. The weight of despair lessened, but it didn’t fade. Not completely.

Someone rattled around in her kitchenette. She knew who it was without having to look.

The tattered goddess floated into view. She carried two glasses of tomato juice and offered one to Bonnie. “Here. Drink this. It won’t solve your problem, but it’s chock-full of vitamins.”

Bonnie slapped the glass out of the goddess’s hand. Juice spilled across her carpet, couch, and wall. “You did this! You did something to Walter!”

“Actually, I did something to you,” said the goddess. “Your boyfriend was just some collateral damage.” The goddess sipped her juice, leaving a red mustache on her pale flesh. “And I did say I was sorry.”

She brushed her limp hair away, allowing Bonnie a brief glimpse of the goddess’s face. Her large, sad eyes were as colorless as the rest of her.

“Take it back. Please, I’ll do anything.”

Her relationship with Walter had been good, but nothing spectacular. She loved him, but it wasn’t head-over-heels. Just some good times and reliable, comforting familiarity. So why did she miss him so much now? She ached for his touch, his smile, his clumsy but competent sex. Even things that she’d found annoying somehow seemed endearing at this moment.