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MEL

It was obscure and cold in the streets. Couples strolled hand in hand to their cars parked by the sidewalk, some were exchanging smooches exiting the theater that was across where I was. I stood beside a coffeehouse watching the employees clock out and grab their coats on their way to the door. One of them saw me and assumed that I was a customer.

"We're currently closed," he said.

"I know," I waved at him. "I'm not here to buy anything."

"Are you sure? The owner is still inside. I can tell her that you'd like to buy something." He said, hastening to go back in the store. I refused and reassured him that I wasn't there for that. However, I was starving. I remembered that I didn't have any money and I had to respect my diet. I couldn't have caffeine or any heavy aliments. I felt uncomfortable when instead of leaving, the young man raced back in the coffeehouse calling a lady who was about his age exiting from the back door. I saw them talking for a few minutes as he briefly placed one hand on her shoulder. She cast a glance at me and waved with a smile summoning me in.

I didn't want to get anyone sick especially after what occurred with James. I shook my head and started to walk away. The young man didn't give in, he ran out of the coffeehouse to get me to accept his kind offer. I fled, but he soon caught up with me as I stopped awkwardly by a telephone machine to retrieve my breath. The lady followed along and stared at me, screening me from the top of my head down to my toes. I guessed she figured I wasn't well and was being eaten out alive in the cold.

My feet sore from the shoes I was wearing, though I decided to stay with a pair of flip flops which made me look like a street vagabond. No wonder why the lady pursed her lips in disgust when she noticed how flaky my skin and lips looked. I was itchy and my eyes were watery due to lack of rest. They've been fighting to remain awake, but I was afraid that as soon as I closed them that I'd get robbed and even harassed. London was never as safe as people often claimed. I had to be careful.

"Hi, my name is Simone." The lady started. "I just wanted to tell you that you can come and get a drink."

"No," I murmured. "I don't have any money."

"We didn't ask you if you have money," the guy snorted. "Come and grab a drink. By the way, I'm Lucio, This crazy girl's sister..." he pointed at Simone who groaned at his comment. She rolled her eyes, then he gave her a light stroke on the nose. They started to be playful which only plunged me deeper into my nostalgia. I longed for my husband, James. I missed him and wanted to know about his state. I felt like I betrayed him by leaving with his baby. If anything happened to me, I would never be able to forgive myself.

I tried to tell him shortly after he brought me our first anniversary gift, whereas the news didn't seem gratifying enough. It was scary and heavy, I barely knew how to welcome it whereas it was his dream to be a father and that would've set him in opposition with his family. After all, what I was trying to avoid had still occurred. I couldn't say that I didn't expect to be pregnant, however, I wasn't prepared for the outcome.

Besides, I knew that Ama would be torn apart by my sudden departure. She was probably on the streets already looking for me since she wasn't the type of person to cry and lament on her problems. She'd fight with every last breath to find me and that made me worried.

Seeing how much Lucio and Simone insisted, I had no choice than to tell them the truth. "Are you sure you wouldn't mind if someone with a deadly virus walks into your store?"

"They wouldn't, I think," shouted a voice behind me. I turned and a tall brown skin man stepped out of his pick-up truck. He walked toward me and I watched him greet Lucio and Simone. He had wet coiled hair, hazel green eyes and gums as dark as refined cacao. He was wearing a gray undershirt and black shorts matching his snickers. He threw a soccer ball in the back of the truck and stretched his hand at me for a handshake. "So, what's going on here? My name's Lotus Michael, and yours?