Summer is Constantine's most hated season.

The asphalt smelled like burned rubber, and the concrete buildings seemed to breathe out hot air when you only wanted to hide in the shade. Even the air conditioning in their office seemed to fail against the brutal onslaught of the sun, which made everyone groan in irritation even at the early hours of the morning.

"Coffee!"

Annie, at the next desk, plopped down with a heavy sigh. "The heat outside was killing everyone! What's with the weather these days? Last week it rained cats and dogs. Now I could cook an egg on the sidewalk with this heat."

Constantine eyed the coffee-filled cup on Annie's table but said nothing.

"Oh yeah," Annie said, sliding closer. Constantine paused her typing for a second, then continued. Too close.

"You were gone for all of last week. Vacation?"

"Some family matters," Constantine replied, focused on her screen. "I've been back since Monday. It's already Wednesday, Annie."

"Family matters, huh," the other woman hummed. "Oh yeah, your dad died some months ago, yeah? These papers are for that? Land titles?"

Constantine looked at her with her lips in a thin line, but Annie either didn't see it or just decided to ignore it.

By the corner of the office, the air conditioner had been steadily getting louder in its humming, and the office continued to feel hot.

"How about you?" Constantine asked with a polite smile on her face. "I think you mentioned something about a weekend trip?"

That seemed to be the correct choice, as Annie quickly fell into gushing mode. "This week, actually! My partner and I are going to check out that beautiful beach I've been eyeing since forever!" Constantine nodded, maintaining her smile. She'd heard about the beach and trip many times that she could probably replicate their itinerary to the letter, but it got Annie out of her business.

She sounded more hyped and cheerful than usual, but she could only muster enough energy to nod and hum, the words merging into a medley of sounds.

Even time felt sluggish; Constantine couldn't help but look at the clock almost every hour. After she finished all her tasks earlier than she thought, she was left with nothing to do but stare at her desk. It was cluttered with paper clips, pens, and sticky pads. She used her arm to push the clutter to the side, clearing a space. It somehow looked worse.

She was one of the first employees out when it was time to clock out. The afternoon still felt too hot, but it was better than the stuffy building.

She stopped by the florist. White hydrangea and purple hyacinth. When she exited the store, she had a bit of trouble carrying the bouquet as the hydrangea was crowding her arm, and the scent of the hyacinth flowers was too sweet on her nose.

Constantine took a taxi and watched as the view of the busy street and tall buildings was slowly replaced with more green and a quieter world. When she passed the large black gates, she nodded at the caretaker sweeping close. They were the only ones there, it seemed.

Her feet brought her to a familiar grave marker made of black marble, the name ROBERT BENSON ROBBINS in gold letters. There was also a fresh bouquet beside it.

"Hey, Dad," Constantine said in a soft voice as she sat cross-legged, putting her own flowers beside the other bouquet. "It looked like Janet came here earlier." The orange and yellow of the bouquet somehow reminded her of the woman's long, chestnut hair, her brown eyes, and warm smile. They were never close, but they had made small talk before. "I think the last time I saw her was a couple of months ago," Constantine said. "She was wearing your ring."

It was a silver band with a small ruby stone on top. Her father showed it to her a year ago.

"Sorry for not visiting you soon. Got some... personal problems popping up." She put her bag in her lap as if she were hugging it. "I was managing that inheritance from Great Aunt Marta. I planned on selling it; it's too big and far for me, anyway.

"I did find something interesting. An old book, with the edges filled with love notes." She smiled. "I haven't finished reading it, but it all sounded romantic. You would have enjoyed it."

Constantine ran her hand through the grass; it looked like it had been recently cut. "Her notes were all addressed to a 'Benedict Clarke.' It wasn't her last name, I found. I got curious, so I started looking. Couldn't find anything, though." Constantine doesn't have many relatives left on her father's side, and those that she still had contact with had no idea who the man was.

"I wasn't planning on anything serious. I don't really have any use for the information." She looked at the cloudless sky. "The notes... They both sounded young. So pure." She chuckled softly, "I think I'm getting too invested again. You know how I got when I started hyperfixating on things."

Anthony's voice echoed in her head. "That's cute", he'd said with a shrug when she tried to tell him about the novel she was currently reading. "I'm not really a reader, you know that, right?"

She sucked a deep breath, her chest getting heavy as always whenever she remembered him. She traced the engraved name on the marker. "Anthony cheated," she said in a small voice. "With Lizzie. For more than eight months." Her throat felt too tight; it was the first time she said it like that after finding out. "I couldn't tell Mom directly, but I think she got the main idea now."

She felt her eyes prickling, but they remained dry.

"Lizzie has been coming by the house, you see. She's been telling Mom that I wouldn't talk to her. I confronted her." She couldn't help but sigh a little. "I sound like a little girl snitching at her friend."

A breeze blew by, carrying the scent of flowers.

"I don't really want to cry," she continued. "But I don't really know what to do. Everything just felt... too much." The sounds, the heat, even her skin, as she picked at the corner of her thumb. She'd stopped doing that after reading an article about stimming back in high school.

"I miss you," she confessed in a small voice. "What now? Dad... What should I do?"

The graveyard remained silent.

Constantine remains in the cemetery until it's almost dark, but hasn't spoken more. On her way home, the streets were filled with people going home, their paces brisk. She bought Chinese takeout before walking to her apartment, having no energy to cook.

Her living room somehow felt cold despite her sweating from the walk up the building. She looked at her living room: the white sofa was still where it always was at the center, the glass coffee table still had those magazines she put there that morning, and her curtains still closed as she'd left them before leaving work.

She put her food container on her island, and her eyes moved to her great aunt's book. Right, she left it in the small drawer by the door.

She moved to grab the book and migrated to her sofa, not feeling hungry at the moment. She flickered the stand lamp on and randomly opened a page.

"I know it is difficult, I know. The pain you feel, I feel it, too, love. And yet I implore you to believe us. Believe the love we have for each other, for it is the greatest truth I could ever give you."

Constantine brushed her finger on the passage. The words looked uneven, but it felt heavy. "I'd like to believe, too," she said, her voice soft. "That this kind of love... the love you both share... I'd like to believe it exists, as well."

Her parents were once married to each other. Her best friend, Lizzie, would often drop by with takeouts. Anthony would often stay the night. Now, she only had her cold, silent apartment that still feels empty no matter how much furniture she'd add. Her single takeout meal remained by the kitchen island, with no one to share it with.

She leaned her head against the back of the sofa, looking at the ceiling absently. Her phone lit up, the notification telling her that it was just another spam email. She threw it on the other side of the sofa. It's not like she has anyone who will call her. Not anymore.

She remained sitting like that for another couple of minutes before straightening. With nothing better to do, she opened the book to the last page she'd read before she went to her Mom's house.