𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 ME|| 𝐓IMOTHÉE 𝐂HALAMET

24 || just incase

2 years ago, February

Chiai, Naples, Italy

I didn't go back to Paris or university. Lucie moved to New York. I moved to Naples. I learned Italian in between my breaks at my waitressing job in a hotel restaurant. 

They say that wine is your therapist, carbs your friend and books your lover. 

At least that's my take on life. I was writing everyday. After work I would cycle home, make myself a small fire in my fireplace and pull on all my jumpers. 

I had no phone, only a landline. I called Lucie every Thursday at 1am. 

Vivien and I wrote to each other. She was coming out in Easter with Lou to see me. 

I wrote a lot about Timothée. 

I hadn't seen him or heard from him or heard anything about him. I drew him in my sketchpad. Never wanting to forget his face. Or I wrote his name just so I could see it. 

I wrote about my mum and Lucie and grandma. Growing up, and growing down. About love, about life, about pain, about beauty. 

Lou had tried to bring him into conversation a few times. She mentioned him being in England again for his Shakespeare film. 

I felt bad. I wanted to know what he was up to but if I were to see him now - I could undo everything I had recovered from.

I didn't think I loved him anymore. Not as much at least. I had stayed away from romance as much as possible. 

Lucie encouraged me to work on myself and so did grandma every chance she could in our daily phone calls. 

I was self-publishing my first collection of poems, realising that I much preferred fiction to fact and that my writing wasn't as awful as I had always presumed it. 

It was my way of expressing myself. It gave me purpose. It kept me alive. 

Alive for T.

I looked through the first ten books that I had paid to be published in the local printers. 

Whilst rummaging for my ribbon, I found the little card that Blix had sent me in one last attempt to rekindle things between Timothée and I.

It was the Ace of Hearts, his notes, a few photos I had of him tied in a bundle with a spare piece of ribbon. 

Under it all was a note that Lou had written herself, no doubt with help from Adele.

It read:

Just incase you're not done with love.

All my love,

Lou X

Underneath she had written down T's address and phone number. 

I bit my lip and poured myself a glass of wine. I finished wrapping, Vivien's copy. 

I went back to the Ace of Hearts. I placed it on the table and looked at it taunting me. 

I lit a cigarette pacing around my apartment. My thoughts going wild.

Do I write to him? Do I call him? 

Why would I? Why wouldn't you?  

It's been a year! Exactly, you miss him! 

I can't let him know that. Why not? You just published a whole book exposing that you do? 

He'll never read it, it's different! But you want him to ... Oh, shut up. 

I huffed around and finally tore a few pages out of my book and wrapped the rest of it up with Blix's ribbon. 

I sat for an hour staring at the address I had written on the parcel. 

I licked the stamp and slapped it on -before the other voice could win, I ran down to the post box and shoved all my packages in. 

I went to bed and when I closed my eyes that night; there were those beautiful eyes looking right back at me again.