30th of September (A sequel to "Best Friends Forever")

 Janet Cordero’s POV

“Be good!” I called out to my 4 year old son, Jacob, as I quickly kissed my husband before closing the front door behind me and scurried to my car. It was colder than usual, so I decided to stop by at my old favorite coffee place. Emily and I used to go there back when she was in high-school. We’d each grab a cup of coffee and donut and drive to school, where she studied, and I worked.

As I walked in, the nostalgic ring of the bell caught me off guard. I forgot how energetic this place used to be. I forgot how the barista’s smile made my day. I forgot how Emily always tips her exactly twice as much as I do.

I ushered out of the shop immediately, as my eyes started to blur, and my throat began to close. I wasn’t ready for this. I need more time.

I sat back in my driver seat and pulled away from the curb, trying to get her off my mind. I can’t go to work with mascara running down my cheeks, the kids would stare at me like I had a bloody knife in my hand. I blink back the tears and drive away to school, trying not to remember the events that occurred exactly 9 years ago.

Recce Solano’s POV

I hustled out of my single bedroom apartment and towards the metro situated exactly across the street. I dodge past the bustling crowds, all heading to work, just like me. 

I sniffled and patted my coat pocket to make sure I had my keys and my phone while making my way to the packed metro train, waiting on it’s tracks. 

I stopped in my tracks when I realized what had caused me to sniffle: last nights’ crying. I closed my eyes, and tried to get a steady grip over me. I realized at that instance that I cannot go to work like this.

I make my way back to my tiny apartment and place my office bag on my couch and sit on the far end. I close my eyes and throw my head back on the backrest with a sigh. The flashbacks keep coming back and I can’t stop it. They’ve been playing in my mind for 9 years now. But it’s terrifying effect hasn’t faded at all. I take deep, shuddered breaths to keep myself from entering into another panic attack.

I miss her. I miss her very much. I also miss Janet. I never should’ve let her go. I never should’ve said those harsh words. We were both sad and needed each other, but I pushed her away. I should’ve hugged her and told her it would be alright. I should’ve let her cry in my arms. I should’ve fought for her. Instead, I let her storm out of our house and mail me the divorce papers from her friend's house.

I wake up sweating and panting, like I always do. I wasn’t aware of when I had drifted off to sleep, but it sure had been long. I check the time on the wall clock mounted above me. It read 11:30. I had been asleep for 3 and a half hours.

I look around, pondering on how to keep myself occupied until it’s time to meet Janet. I walk into my small kitchen and realize it needs some cleaning. I spent the next two hours scrubbing the kitchen spotless. As I wrapped up, I felt grateful that the sudden urge to do something productive didn’t strike me at 2 am, like it usually does.

As I stepped out of my apartment building to grab some lunch, my eyes immediately caught hers from a few buildings away. Both of us halted to a sudden stop and stared at each other until she waved at me and flashed a quick smile. I did the same and just when I started walking over to her, she turned around and left.

Janet Cordero’s POV

I had to skip school due to my emotional vulnerability. I couldn’t afford to break-down crying in between my classes. So I took the day off and decided to look around the town until it was 5.

I took a cab to Madison Square Park and sat on a bench, watching children run around as I graded my papers for a couple of hours until I felt hungry.

I exited the park, feeling peaceful and calm, and headed down one of the streets in search of a good restaurant. It took me a while to realize that I had unconsciously walked to Recce’s neighborhood. The flat he lives in was just a couple buildings away. I presumed that he would’ve left for work at 8 am and wouldn’t be home, but I was wrong. He was in his usual, but wrinkled suit, with his tie undone. I felt a sudden urge to turn around and leave, but before I could, he had spotted me. We both stood here among the bustling crowd, until I gained the strength to wave and smile at him. He mirrored my action and took a step towards me. Panic took control of my actions and made me walk away from him. I couldn’t face him right now. 

Recce Solano’s POV:

It was 15 minutes past 6, and there was still no sight of her. I slowly paced about at the entrance, kicking around pebbles, until I heard the sound of a car engine pull by. I looked up to see Janet get out of a yellow taxi. She quickly paid the driver and jogged towards me, with a sweet and apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I’m late” she said, panting lightly, “I was grading a couple of papers and I lost track of time.”

“No problem, I just got here anyway”

Her smile widened with relaxation. “Shall we?” she asked, tilting her head towards the interior of the ground. 

“We shall, you highness” I said, with a dramatic look on my face.

She giggled as we began to walk towards our daughter.

I wanted to bring up the incident outside my building, but I didn’t want her to feel awkward. I already lost her as the love of my life, I don’t want to lose her as my closest friend too.

We both walked in silence, until we reached the arch-shaped stone that said

“Here lies Emily Solano,
A daughter and a good friend”

Janet Cordero’s POV:

It was exactly 9 years ago when she threw herself into a bonfire at a high-school party. She was my only daughter and it broke my heart when the police called us at 2 am in the morning to inform us about her death. The trip there was a blur. I don’t remember how we got to the police station, but Em’s best friend, Amy, was waiting for us there with her parents. Her face was streaked in tears, which made me feel bad for her. 17 and a dead best friend.

The funeral was even more painful. I felt like I could hear her voice screaming and crying out for help. It took a few days to accept that she was really gone. And when I turned to Recce for emotional support, he shunned me away, distancing himself from me, and in a haste, I divorced him.

After 3 years, I met Micheal, got married to him 2 years later, and had a baby with him. But Recce had always been close to me, even after the divorce, we stayed friends.

Every year, at her death anniversary, me and Recce go to her grave and talk to her like she was still alive. Just the two of us. No one else. Our little family, laughing and talking like she hadn’t died and had stayed alive.

I wish I had payed more attention to whether she was showing any signs of depression or self-harm and any type of suicidal activities. I’m partially to be blamed for the death of my daughter, and I won’t let that happen to my son either.