for Shannon

Six weeks had passed since Felix had last sought Shannon's contact entry in his phone. Six weeks since he'd walked out of their apartment, leaving behind almost everything he owned. Six weeks since the truth of his past had torn apart the facade of his present.

Six weeks since he'd seen or spoken to Shannon at all.

I'm on my way to collect my things. I will be there in 15 minutes.

His text to Shannon was brief and perfunctory, and painfully exact. Precisely fifteen minutes after he had tapped the send button, Felix was at the door of the apartment he had shared with Shannon for such an excruciatingly short time. His keys were halfway out of his pocket before he realized that Shannon might have changed the locks. He stopped, hesitated, almost turned around and left.

Then he knocked, three sharp raps on the door.