Manny followed Aurya out into the cold night air and used the doggy bag of leftover spinach dip and pasties to keep his hands warm. It didn’t stop the chilling wind from biting at his face and drawing water from his eyes. Winter always came early in Michigan, then stretched out, got comfortable, and refused to leave.

The streetlights drenched the sidewalks with their obnoxious orange light, illuminating the stragglers walking hurriedly up and down the byways. The usual city sounds filled the air, a horn here, a siren there, someone shouting off in the distance.

“Where do you live? I can give you a ride home.” Aurya stood easy, not at all bothered by the cold. Manny was convinced the woman had ice for bones.

He smiled and shook his head. “You don’t have to do that. I’m probably way out of your way. I’ll just grab a bus.”

“I insist.” She started for her car, the headlights winking as she unlocked it.

Manny opened his mouth to protest again, but then he remembered how warm the car was, and how not warm the bus would be. “Ah, okay.” He climbed in the passenger’s side and sighed at the already warm interior. “I live off the fifty-nine.”

Aurya nodded, the head movement barely visible in the dim lights from the parking lot. She drove out and crossed downtown to the 59. She hadn’t put her hair back up, and every few seconds the streetlights illuminated the curtain of braids hiding her face.

Was this the last he would see of her? Manny wondered. The end of the line for all those handsome pay days, his brief stint of financial stability. And her sweet smiles.

Back in college, when he was more bright-eyed and less jaded, the way ahead had seemed bright, sunny, filled with golden rivers cutting through green acres, his path to success clear and true. Now, the way ahead was cast in a grey haze accented with the spindly branches of dead trees—his dead dreams, he liked to think—and the path forward obscured, unclear.

So, he lived in the here and now, dealt with the things right in front of his face, and worried about the rest when it became relevant. All the hopes he had of living the high life had burned to the ground after Damon died and he dropped out. And they could rot in piss for all he cared.

“How much further?” Aurya asked.

Manny turned his attention out the windshield. “Take a left at the pharmacy. Careful, there are a ton of potholes through here.”

“There are a ton of potholes everywhere in this state.” She navigated the maze of craters like an expert—still, this road was an affront to her beautiful car. It deserved smooth highways flanked by acres of farm. Not his shithole neighborhood.

“It’s the green building coming up on the left.”

She nodded and pulled up to the curb, underneath the flickering streetlight.

“Uh, thanks for the ride.”

“Wait,” Aurya said as he reached for the door handle. She pulled out her cell phone, the blue glow lighting up her face. “I just sent your last payment.”

The words hit him like a sledgehammer to the head. No more Idris Elba paydays. This would be his last month of financial stability before everything went to shit again. He could already hear the calls from the bank, his apologies and promises to get on top of his loans. After beating back the numbers for so long, they’d start to climb again, and he’d be drowning in debt.

And this was the last he’d see of Aurya. To think they’d said hello and goodbye all in the same day. Before today, she had just been a name, just Asarr. Now she was Aurya, the beautiful teacher who loved seafood and hot chocolate, was clueless about social media, and drove a sweet car. The best things in life were always short-lived.

“Is something the matter?” Aurya asked.

Manny cleared his throat. He’d been sitting and staring again. “No, not at all. Uh… thanks. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

“Likewise, Mr. Delgado,” she said with a smile.

“Please, call me Manny.”

“Manny.” She said his name as though trying it out, tasting it. “Take care, Manny.”

Heat crept into his cheeks. His name sounded good coming out of her mouth. “Drive safe.” He jumped out of the car and waved as she pulled off. The Tesla disappeared around the corner moments later, yet he still stood there, eyes drifting from the road to the food in his hands.