・♡『Part Seventy 』♡・

43 4 2
                                    

She stared down at the new messages from a new fake account, sent yesterday—four days after clubbing. From an account named 'Renna_the_bitch'.

'Has he gotten bored of u yet?'

'He will. Any guy would.'

'Ur torturing him'

'I cant believe I liked someone so heartless. U never care about anyone else but urself. U break every guy u meet and u dont care. So long u get what u want'

'I hope he leaves u and hurts u as much as ur tormenting him.'

'He deserves better than u'

Now, she stepped into the warm cafe near her apartment to treat herself. She couldn't stand to keep herself locked up any longer. I'll loose my mind.

The delicious smell of coffee and cake swirled around inside the small shop. Quiet chatter, and the clink of cutlery and cups on plates filled the atmosphere. The warm lighting gave it a cozy homely feel. Like sitting by a crackling fireplace.

She made her way to the service counter without looking up from the messages. She considered blocking the third account, but she thought, What's the point? He'd make another. And another. And a hundred more. He would keep sending messages, so what's the point of blocking him?

Re-reading them over and over, the words sunk into her soul. Slivers of doubt she held for years grew to an overwhelming size. The questions brought worry, and that worry wrapped tight around her heart. Squeezing and crushing. She thought back on her previous relationships and how every single one was disappointed and uninterested after they learnt of her sexuality. Every single guy. It wore on her mind.

"What can I get for you today?" the sweet young lady behind the register asked her, snapping her back to reality.

She ordered a coffee and a piece of chocolate cake, and stood to the side to wait, returning her gaze to the messages.

"Just when I thought my day couldn't get any better, you show up."

She turned to see Jensen smiling down at her. "Hi," she said, grinning.

"Hi."

She shut off her phone and shoved it in her back jeans pocket, hoping he didn't see the messages. "What are you doing here?"

"Spending the morning with my family." He turned to gesture at a table where a man and woman sat, passing pieces of broken off chocolate chip muffin to a hungry toddler who stuffed each piece into her mouth along with half her hand.

"A special occasion?" she asked.

"No." He shook his head, still staring at his family. "Just catching up." Looking back at her, he asked, "Would you like to join us?"

The barista called her name and it took her a moment to register his request while she retrieved her order. "Wha—Oh, no. It's okay. You don't—I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Don't be silly," he said with a wave of his hand. "You wouldn't be. They'd love to meet you." Taking the plate of cake from her, he held out a hand. "What do you say?"

She smiled. "I'd love to." She took his hand and they walked over to the happy family.

His mother looked up, and spotting them hand-in-hand, she smiled and said, "Well, hello. You must be Renna."

She giggled. "You know me?"

His father laughed a deep laugh. "Well Jensen has spent the entire morning talking about you."

She looked over at him as he placed the cake on the table. Pinkness glowing on his cheeks.

"Please, sit," his mum said, gesturing to the empty chairs across from her. "Join us."

They both sat.

"Renna," said Jensen. "This is my mother, Nicole. My father, Mark. And this..." he turned to his side and picked up the little girl, placing her down on his lap, "...is Charlie. My baby sister."

"Charlie," Mark said to his daughter. "Do you want to show Renna how old you are?"

Charlie held up all five fingers on one cake-covered hand.

"Nooo," Jensen said to her in a sweet voice. He took her sticky hand without hesitating and put down her thumb. "You're four."

Renna smiled, watching his loving interaction with his sister.

"Renna," Nicole said, catching her attention. "Do you have any siblings?"

"No. I'm an only child."

She leaned across to pass Jensen a baby wipe to clean Charlie's dirty hands and face. "What was that like for you?"

Renna shrugged. "I guess it was lonely at times, but it meant I got to grow close to my parents."

"Well, maybe it's a good thing," Mark said to her. "I mean, growing up, Jensen and his older brother, Daniel, never got along." He chuckled, leaning in closer. "They fought more than those wrestlers they used to watch. The only time they were actually nice too each other, by the way, and they still fought."

"We were playing," Jensen defended himself.

Nicole laughed, shaking her head. "Not the other times."

"We get along now."

"Yeah. Jensen told me about him," Renna said, thinking back. "He's in the Army, right?"

"That's right." His father smiled a warm yet sad smile. "He's been in Afghanistan for eight months now."

The sadness in his voice broke her heart, and the distant expression on Nicole's face could almost bring Renna to tears in the blink of an eye. She couldn't imagine the fear they both had to live with, not knowing if they would see their son again.

"So, Jensen has told us you're an artist," Nicole said, with a smile, changing the subject.

"Oh no," she disagreed. "I like to paint but I'm not that good at it. I'm better with icing." She ate a piece of cake off her fork. A delicious chocolatey taste.

Jensen took a tiny pinch of her cake, and she pushed the plate closer to him, offering more. "I've seen some of her paintings," he said. "They're just as good as her incredible cake decorations."

"You've only seen pictures," she told him. "They're worse close up."

"Doubtful."

♡

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

PossibilitiesWhere stories live. Discover now