"That's that Spence espresso."

Spencer blinked.

"Too much?" asked the barista with a wince.

"All good. Thank you."

She dropped a couple of bills into the tip jar before taking her drink over to one of the tables. The thin red chairs that looked like she could snap them in half with her bare hands left a lot to be desired. Thanks to the leisurely pace at which she got dressed, she missed most of the morning rush and found a seat with minimal effort. While she stepped out onto the streets of San Francisco with an open mind, she resembled a baby learning how to walk for the first time. If someone attempted to strike up a conversation with her, Spencer couldn't be sure she had the emotional bandwidth to keep it going. Unfortunately, she also had to steal one of Sakura's coats because none of the jackets she brought helped. Spencer was glad nobody caught her taking four steps outside of Sakura's apartment building and then immediately going back inside to switch out her outerwear.

While the custard-filled chocolate croissant tasted delightful and the espresso-with-a-tune filled her with the necessary amount of caffeine needed to operate like a functioning adult, Spencer's mind continued to race like an F1 car down the streets of Monaco, only narrowly missing the barriers keeping her in line.

Seven years was a long time for any relationship, but especially one that started her sophomore year of high school. They had known each other for years beforehand, so it made the severance feel even worse. Spencer didn't just say goodbye to the only relationship she had ever been in. She said goodbye to someone she knew from childhood. Someone who had seen her grow up in all of the most embarrassing and honest ways. Even if they were better friends than lovers at different crossroads of their lives, that still meant letting go of something meaningful.

She didn't understand it. Did everyone go through something as devastating as this, multiple times in their life? Obviously, she thought naively. Spencer's heart breaking wasn't some anomaly of the universe but practically a rite of passage. But how did everyone else do it? How did people survive feeling like they had lost a limb? Or like they had actively watched those lost years of their life go up in flames while they stood by helplessly, unable to stop it from burning to ash.

The worst part was that even though the relationship had ended, it wasn't over. When she flew back home and walked into the half-empty apartment, it would puncture her once again. Her finger would hover over delete for every picture they shared on social media, but she inevitably archived the images instead. Any time someone asked her about it, she would have to recall all of the heartbreak in vague details while they stared back at her in the most pitiful way. And whenever she thought about those seven years of her life, she had to relive all of it. The good, the bad, the parts that she wanted to forget, and the parts that she knew she had to hold onto.

Her phone started ringing. Morgan. Spencer took a deep breath and sighed. Rolled her shoulders like she was winding up.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Hello? Spence, where the hell are you? Mom said you're in San Francisco, but I told her that's impossible because why the fuck would you be in San Francisco without telling me?"

If Spencer had taken care of herself instead of hitting snooze on her responsibilities, she wouldn't have ignored the reminder she set six months ago about needing to update her Hawaiian Miles account email to her personal email address instead of her mom's. She never got around to changing it from when her mother created the account for her when Spencer was younger.

"I needed a change of scenery," Spencer said.

Her sister scoffed. "Change of scenery. Right. So you decided to hop on a plane and fly across the Pacific. Casual."

"Did you need something? My coffee's getting cold."

"Are you—what's going on? Seriously."

Spencer and Morgan were close, like many other tight-knit sisters who relied on each other growing up. They told each other everything. So she knew that keeping something like this from her sister would sting once she found out. And as much as she wanted to push the problem onto her future self, Morgan wouldn't stop calling until she figured out what was going on. She knew Spencer didn't up and leave out of the blue like she had. Pretending she could keep the secret any longer would only prove to bite her harder in the ass than owning up to it now.

"We broke up."

If she had to say his name, her breakfast would be all over the table. Thankfully, Morgan didn't need further explanation, nor did she call her out for avoiding the mention.

"When? What happened? Where is he?"

Spencer sighed. Everything rolled in like the morning fog above the bay. She dreamt of the clear blue sky back home that she had woken up to three days ago. Her answer applied to all of the above. "Does it matter?"

"Of course, it matters. That's why you're in San Fran?"

"They hate when you call it that."

"Who? Who's they?"

"San Francisco."

"How can a city hate it when I call it San Fran?"

"People. The people from San Francisco hate when you call in San Fran."

Morgan huffed. "And I'm supposed to care because—"

"You know, you've asked me more questions than not," Spencer pointed out.

"Can you—I don't think you can blame me for that since you didn't even tell me you were leaving the city."

"I left the entire island."

"Even worse. Wait, are you with Sakura?"

They only knew one person who moved to San Francisco. "Yeah."

"Huh."

"What do you mean, huh?"

"Nothing," Morgan answered. "It's just been a while since you talked to her."

A good sister might have spared her the drawn-out back and forth, but, as proven by her sneaking out of Hawai'i, Spencer wasn't being a good sister. And maybe that was okay for now. Maybe she deserved to be selfish and enjoy some time away from everyone. Morgan's heart was in the right place, but it didn't make it any less annoying for Spencer to field questions about her failed relationship.

"Are you okay?" Morgan's voice faded like she quickly pulled away from the phone for a beat. "Just... just tell me you're okay."

"I'm okay." Maybe it wasn't the whole truth, but it was at least some of it. Spencer was sitting at a cute cafe with delicious coffee in San Francisco, courtesy of that broken heart, a savings account that had been mildly depleted, and PTO hours banked over years of not taking other vacations. Many would consider her in the middle of a dream spontaneous getaway. "I'll be back on Saturday. Can you pick me up from the airport?"

Her sister laughed, despite sounding frustrated enough not to want to. "Was that your plan all along or—"

"No more questions, please."

"Fine. You're annoying. And weird."

"And I love you."

"Love you too," Morgan said. "Get me a keychain? We're having a long talk when you get back."

"Postcards are so much better."

"Or some pressed pennies. I'll take pressed pennies."

Spencer finished off her espresso. "All three sounds good. See you on Saturday."