To Those Who Worry

Come Home..

It at this had been six months since the day I had made the decision to hold his hand with mine again.

I'd be lying to say that from time to time the unsettling feeling of betrayal didn't creep its way back into my thoughts. Yet, he knew this, and he was still being patient with the damage he caused. He'd still hold my small body in his arms and swear that he was mine.

Only mine.

He asked me to dinner at his apartment.

The one that once was ours.

I still couldn't bring myself to say yes.

Anytime I tried the words would get stuck in my throat and I didn't have the strength to pull them out.

Valentine's day came around, he showed up at my door with a bundle of roses and a blindfold.

He said to trust him, that he had a plan.

I was reluctant, and quite frankly I was nervous.

Still, I turned and let him tie the rag, blinding me momentarily.

"Um, Chaz? There is this thing called stairs." I warn him when I could figure out he was leading me down the hallway of my apartment.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, his tone holding a playfulness I missed so much.

"Depends."

"On?"

"I don't wanna die." I was only joking, his chuckle held the warmth I loved.

"You gotta say you trust me." He says.

"I trust you."

Within ten seconds, Chaz had swooped and picked me up bridal style. With a squeak, I held onto his neck.

"Relax you aren't going to die." He was enjoying his moment of teasing.

 "I beg to differ."

From there he put me in his car and began driving to the unknown location.

Anytime I even attempted to ask where we were going he would shh me and go quiet again.

Once I decided to give up he turned the car off and opened his door. When my door opened he immediately began carrying me once again.

I heard his steps on what sounded like stairs.

I heard a door open and keys jiggling.

Chaz set me down and gently unwrapped the rag from my eyes.

The scene in front of me was one I had seen a thousand times, but with a twist.

Our old apartment, with petals everywhere.

Dinner was made and prepared on the counter.

Kisses on cheeks and smiles on faces.

I thanked him.
Hugged him.
Kissed him.

Then when it was time to leave he asked the question I dreaded most.

"Will you please come home?"