17 Last Times

⤹24❁ Decisions

"Are you okay?" Nathan asks as he must've noticed the change in my expression.

I let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know." My eyes water slightly. "I can still smell it. I can still smell them." I look up at him. "I find it hard enough to put it all in the bags, let alone get rid of it."

"Why don't you keep something then?" His brow rises. "Maybe one shirt and one blouse?"

"Isn't the whole point of me throwing the stuff away to help me move on? Keeping something-"

He saunters towards me and crouches by my side. His hand lands atop my shoulder. "Davina," he begins, serious. "These aren't just some clothes that you've grown out of or don't want to wear anymore. These are what's left of your parents. Moving on doesn't mean you can't keep a few things that will remind you of them. You're ought to miss them and want to remember them. There's no harm in leaving a shirt or two."

Something within me breaks. I strive to forestall the tears that brim at the rims of my eyes, but I'm helpless against the sadness and longing. I start to cry, my shoulders begin to tremble.

Nathan kneels beside me and scoops me into his warm embrace. "I'm sorry I can't do much more."

I sniffle, squeezing myself harder into his arms.

"Are there any particular pieces that you'd like to keep?" he asks, pointing at the pile of bags, simultaneously stroking my hair.

I don't have to think twice. I know the answer. "My mum had this plaid grey poncho. I don't think I can get rid of it."

Nathan nods his head, understanding. "What about your dad? Anything you wanna keep?"

"His green flannel shirt."

"Then it's settled. Shall we look for both?"

I nod, eager. "I also want to keep their perfume, my mum's bags and jewelry and my dad's watches."

Nathan smiles at me, sympathetic.

"Do you think that's too much?" I ask, terrified of failing at the mission I've given myself.

"I think it's reasonable." He kisses me on the forehead and moves towards the bags. "Any chance you remember which ones we threw the specific stuff into?"

There are too many. I shake my head.

"It's fine." He smiles in reassurance. "We'll go through them one by one until we find what you're looking for."

I stoop towards him and wrap my arms around his presence, thankful for his existence.

~~~~~~~~~~

We found the poncho and the shirt at last. I can't express how happy it made me. I was so delighted I threw myself at Nathan, who lost his balance under the weight of my body, and we both ended up on the floor, laughing away. He was so effortlessly adroit at making me calm in emotionally difficult situations like this one — getting rid of my parents' belongings.

I slide the wardrobe closed, now poorly decorated with only two pieces of their clothing.

"Shall I take the bags to my car?" Nathan asks, noticing the sadness contorting my face.

"Sure. Let me put some shoes on and I'll give you a hand."

"Don't be silly. It won't take long. You can stay here and have a break." He smiles. I think he wants to give me a moment to myself.

"Thank you." I reciprocate the smile.

He grabs four bags at once and disappears from the room.

I walk towards my mother's dressing table and run my hand along its dark-green surface. The paint is chipped in some places. It's been here since I can remember. It's Victorian and very ornamental with a rectangle-like shaped mirror. I always thought it had this magical aura — beyond beautiful and elegant — just like my mother.