September

Josie opened the last remaining window in her apartment. Though it was only fourteen degrees, the bustling street below offered a nice background soundtrack as she sorted through some of her cases.

August was a lonely month, much like the ones before.

After meeting Vicktor, Josie never returned to the studio to pick up Heidi. Instead, if she ever had to, she would wait in the car to avoid any more reminders of her heart’s woes. She had felt horrible the next day for the less than flattering impression she had left on her sister’s ballet teacher. She didn’t need to find herself even the slightest bit attracted to another man.

Not when her loyal heart beat Max’s name.

In the days and weeks after he had broken up with her, she thought he’d call and tell her it was a mistake. She held that teardrop necklace, and prayed that when she woke up the next morning, he’d have left her a message.

He hadn’t.

Days turned into weeks.

Turned into months.

She never heard from him again.

It was currently Art Week in Berlin, and so many art lovers from around the world had descended on Berlin to take part in the festivities. Next month, there were two lights festivals she was looking forward to attending. Her father described them as the most beautiful light displays he had ever seen, and it gave her something to look forward to in October.

October was a month she wished she could bypass altogether.

It marked a year of so many.

A year since Max had first walked out on her.

A year since she found out her mother’s cancer was terminal.

A year since her mother was put on life support.

A year since she had signed the form that ended her mother’s life.

And a year since she buried her mother and left Melbourne for Berlin.

It had been one of the toughest, loneliest years of Josie’s life.

Made worse by one message.

A ping from her laptop had her returning to her dining room table. She sat down at the table, reached out, and grasped her laptop, bringing it closer to her. She opened her emails to find the one from her private tutor. It was the only way Josie could keep up with her law degree. Her new private tutor wasn’t Maxwell Sheridan, but he was one of the best out there to tutor Josie.

She pressed on the email and read it.

J,

This is probably your best assignment I’ve read all year. Just make sure you reiterate your argument in the conclusion. You need to make sure your tutor understands the implications and limitations of intellectual property. Apply your critical thinking skills. Find a few more cases that support your arguments and even write in a counterargument to prove you are a lawyer capable of taking on the very best and that you have all your bases covered. It’s a fourth-year unit, so you need to show what kind of lawyer you will be.

G.

Smiling, Josie exited the email and let out a sigh of relief. Her final intellectual property assignment was broken up into two parts, and she had just sent her private tutor part two, which consisted of her making a decision on a particular case given. She was given the role of defending lawyer on a case that pointed to her client stealing another’s intellectual property when it came to a brand-new idea for dishwashers. Josie spent weeks coming up with different arguments. She had even stared at her apartment’s dishwasher to get clues. She had argued that without filing for a patent, no such property existed.

Josie bit her bottom lip as she tapped her finger on her keyboard.

Lectures, assignments, and exams didn’t take the thought of him away.

He still lingered in her heart.

But it had been a year.

He would be well and truly over her by now.

Looking out at the window and at the Berlin skyline, she knew it was time to remind herself one last time of that pain before she let him go, too.

Grasping her phone, Josie pressed on the home button and took in their faces. It had been her screen lock image for six months too long. She had held on for far too long when he had let go far too quickly. When she finished reading his message one last time, she’d change it. Remove the evidence that her heart still loved him. Then she’d take off the silly necklace around her neck that he had given her for her birthday.

It no longer symbolised his love.

It was only a reminder of how foolish she was.

Josie opened her text messages and scrolled down until his name was at the bottom of her inbox. Then she wiped the tear that had escaped her as she reread Max’s goodbye again.

For the last time.

To remind her that six months was long enough.

She needed to be free.

Max: Josephine, I’ve written and rewritten this message about a thousand times. It’ll never be perfect. It’ll never be the right words I want to tell you. Being away from you is a pain only you can understand. But the longer I’m away from you, the more I realise that you’re pulling away and choosing to remain where I can’t. You’ve made Berlin home. And Berlin will always have my heart so long as you remain there. I can’t make you choose between me or your family. I can’t make you turn your back on them. I can’t make you change your mind about law school. I can’t make you come back to me because I don’t want you forced to.

I want you to come back to me because you want the years of your life with me. But we can’t be together if Berlin is where you want to be. I promised distance wouldn’t break us… and I kept that promise because my changing heart wants you to be happy where you are. But I can’t anymore. I can’t keep that promise. I’ll regret letting you go. I know. I can already feel it. I promised I’d make you happy, Josephine. And when you tell me stories of your time in Germany, it is the happiest I have seen you in so long. And then we discuss us, and I see your pain. I feel it. I can’t continue to make you happy from Melbourne. I can’t let you leave what makes you happy. I can’t be with you anymore. I can’t be your La Vie En Rose without hurting you.

You might not understand why I’m doing this. I love you. I love you so much. But I can’t love you when you’re in Berlin anymore. I have to move on because I know you want a life with your sisters in it. I love you, Josephine Faulkner, but I can’t be with you. I can’t continue this relationship of emails and text messages. I can’t hear your voice or see your face without my heart breaking. I love you. I truly do. Please don’t reply to me. Please let me go, too. Let us live fair lives.

It’s time that I finally say it.

It’s time to say goodbye.

Goodbye, Josephine.