REDAMANCY [h.s. au]

04

"When can I say your name and have it mean only your name and not what you left behind?"
- Ocean Vuong

⭑Holland⭑

The familiarity of London has morphed into an alien landscape, every street corner, every cafe, every park, holds the harrowing potential of an encounter with Harry.

Knowing he's back in London and living not too far from me has me hyper-aware everywhere I go. This doesn't help the thoughts that I'd banished to the far corners of my mind as they claw their way out of the darkness I keep them hidden in.

I'm afraid of the feelings those thoughts carry- good and bad. I don't want any of them, no matter how joyful or painful. I don't want to think of him. I don't want to see him. I don't want him in London.

When I got home after seeing him, I shut the door so quickly, like I was being chased and my life depended on it. I could barely move so I slumped my body against the door and let out one heaving, choking sob that trembled my body. I only allowed myself that one, though. My time wasn't going to be spent crying over him- I'd already allotted too many tears to someone who willingly became a stranger to me all those years ago.

I'm cautious as I walk the bustling streets I know so well to work, sporting a baseball cap and sunglasses to obscure my face and make me less recognizable if the unfortunate were to happen and I run into him. I keep my head down until I reach my bookstore, Fiona's Pages.

I bought the neighborhood book store with the money I received from my mums will. The store, which used to be called Smythe's, was months away from closing its doors, until I generously offered to buy it and revive it. For years, mum and I would spend hours in the dusty bookstore that smelled like old paper and the strong perfume of the owner, Mrs. Smythe. We'd dream about the day one of her novels would be perched upon a shelf in there. Mum had her very first book signing there when her debut novel was published. There were balloons and streamers and drinks. I remember being so proud seeing her lifelong dream come true. All of the tireless hours she spent perfecting her story, editing and more editing, all of the rejections from agents, weren't done in vain. And then her second book signing was held there a few years later, this time with more people as she gained popularity. It holds a special place in my heart. I refused to step foot in the place for months after her death. It wasn't until Mrs. Smythe saw me on the street and told me the news that she would more than likely be shutting it down soon that I knew what I had to do with the money mum left for me. So I purchased it and refurbished it, but made sure not to change it too much-its charm lays in its cozy, rustic nature. And then, of course, I named it after her-like a standing eulogy to her.

Full of pride, I take a good look at my store, stepping back a bit to take it all in. It's housed in an old Victorian era building sandwiched between a modern-looking breakfast spot and a boutique stationary shop that sells fancy pens and birthday cards. The outside is painted white, although it's in dire need of a fresh coat. In vintage gold lettering above the door, it reads "Fiona's Pages".

I scour my messy tote bag for the key until my fingers find it at the very bottom. Unlocking the old door, I have to give it a shove with my shoulder to get it open. I see Zoey has already let herself in; we're twenty minutes from opening. She's one of three employees who work here, and my best friend. She's elbows deep in a large cardboard box that's filled with a shipment of new releases. Her head pops up when the creaky door opens.

"I see you're still walking around like a celebrity who doesn't want to be sighted by paparazzi," she chirps at me, her eyes on my hat and dark sunglasses.

"Yeah, well, I guess this is my life now," I sigh, taking the sunglasses off and stashing them in my tote bag. I decide to keep the hat on, it's navy blue with a white emblem of the stores logo on it and matches my outfit well. I have an oversized ivory cashmere sweater on with light wash vintage Levi's and of course, my trusty Adidas trainers that have seen better days.