Broken apart!

His actions all felt rather meaningless now. But they were her some of the best memories. It was afternoon now. She had started packing in morning when he left for office. But these memories were keeping her tied up.

"Hey, did you really think you could run on one foot in those thickets. Really? You didn't let me stay here. Pull another stunt and I am going to be here twenty-four seven. You entertain all those bugs from my office then", all she could see was the crinkle between his nose and his cheek. She knew he meant every word.

The wind batted against her eyelids and she was back to ruffling those keys in the glass bowl. She kept wondering if she really needed to put her set back.

"Honey, I lost them again. I may have dropped them in my office but the chances of CCD are equally good", she was shameless. This was the third time in 4 months. "Look at the present I got you. It has been in my drawer for a week now. True surprise! You get another necklet just a little longer and no obvious embellishments", he was never short with her. And as it would be she wore it shamelessly.

She pulled back. Still undecided, if she should keep those keys. They could be souvenirs of the past. But she felt the irony of that hitting her. If she couldn't remember it on its own, it was certainly time to move on. She dropped the sautoir in the bowl.

Nothing was left. Bags were packed. Everything separated, segregated. What she thought was hers she took. He didn't care. She knew that. But she was fair. She took those photoframes too even when she knew they would prolong her miseries. What if they ended up in dumpsters!

And in those keepsakes she found a letter she had written addressed to him. A white envelope with "Hey!" written on it. She was always conventional with gifts, letters, souvenirs. Always personal. Technology she only needed to veer her in the traffic. She opened the letter once again. Impressed with the emotions she was capable of putting across once, she started reading the letter. Poetic. She was let to feel the deception of reciprocity. The tears started clouding her sight. "How is it that I ever try to sneak a peek at you, I always find you looking at me" and she folded the letter. The tears were already crowding out of her eyes now. She put the letter back where it was.  

But, the rose-smelling letter was now putrid. The scent of bitter almonds flourished throughout the room it seemed. Or it may have been the prevarication or her nasal passage closing forcing her to disambiguate. Both at the same time. But this was not unrequited love. His favourite author was wrong this time. It was the love once had and now lost. She tried to get up from the chair hastily before that sense of familiarity strangled her. But she looked behind and blew it a kiss. "May you reach your destiny". 

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This is in response to YeahWrite's two command prompts:

The first prompt to incorporate into your story is the following object: keys. 

The second prompt is to use the following sentence as either the first or the final sentence of your story: “His actions all felt rather meaningless now.”