Holding On (short story - completed)

A/N

Please note that this is set a few years ago, before internet, email, mobile phones etc were as widely used as they are now. I thought I'd explain that as I've had people ask questions like 'why didn't he text or email her', well that's why. :) I wrote this story for a competition and I had to stick to a word coutnt so I couldn't reveal that in the story itself.

Anyway, that aside, I hope you enjoy. Please let me know what you think. :)

***

“He’s never coming back.”

Yvonne ignored the comment and proceeded to make her morning trip to the letterbox. The postman arrived right on time. Exchanging their usual morning greetings, he handed her the mail and sped away with a friendly wave. Holding her breath, Yvonne sifted through it.

They were all window letters—in other words, bills.

In frustration, Yvonne spun on her heel and stormed inside. The door slammed shut behind her causing a picture on the wall to come crashing down. She threw the mail on the side cupboard.

“When will you ever believe me?” the voice taunted, “he’s never coming back.”

“Nina, shut up!” Yvonne glared at her sister. Nina leaned carelessly against the wall in the hallway, her arms folded across her chest. “What do you know?”

“What I just said. He’s not—”

“Alright! Enough already!”

Pushing past her, Yvonne entered the kitchen and retrieved the milk from the fridge. Tears burned her eyes as she made herself a cup of coffee. Two heaped teaspoons of extra-strength coffee. No sugar. A dash of milk. It was the only thing that got her through the mornings.

A few minutes later, she heard her sister enter. The fridge door opened then closed again. When Yvonne turned around a few seconds later, Nina sat at the table with a glass of juice. She was glaring at Yvonne.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Yvonne asked, feeling uneasy under her gaze.

Shrugging, Nina picked at her nails. “No reason…” she trailed off then looked up at Yvonne and said, “well, actually I was thinking that maybe you should see a doctor. I mean, it’s been six months and—”

“Nina!” Yvonne ran her hand through her short brown hair in frustration. “Why do you keep going on at me about depression? I am not depressed!”

“You can’t blame me for wondering. You’re like this every morning. And for what? All because you didn’t get a letter from Sean.”

“Be quiet, Nina.”

“No I won’t be quiet. When will you ever learn that Sean is gone? He’s never going to send you a letter begging you to come back. He broke up with you.”

Yvonne bristled at the comment. Setting her mug in the sink with more force than intended she said, “This subject is officially closed.”

“No it’s not,” Nina’s hazel eyes were dark with anger, “you change the subject every morning!”

“Well, can you blame me? You bring it up every morning!”

“Maybe I wouldn’t if you would listen to me!”

“I always listen! I’m sick of you repeating yourself!” Taking a deep breath, Yvonne said in a calmer tone, “I just want you to drop it. Please.”