Collide

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT - APOLOGIZE

All I had to do was to take the phone from its hook, and tell Michael that I missed him too, and tell him how sorry I was for disappearing like I did. The phone was just there, and it was screaming at me to take it... but I couldn't seem to make up my mind. When I seemed to be sure about what I wanted, I started to doubt again the next minute.

All my life, grams had been protective over me, and I knew that she would be until the end. I loved her for that. However, it was hard for me to even talk to her ever since she advised me to stay away from Michael. I pretended to be very busy at work to avoid talking to her. I hated the fact that she wouldn't believe me when I told her that Michael's presence in my life wouldn't cause me any harm. I hated the fact that she couldn't trust me enough to believe me when I explained her how alive he made me feel, how every parcel of my body and mind were at ease when he was near me: he was the medication to my bruised mind and heart, for he could make the pain go away just by being by my side.

But this, my grandmother couldn't see. The only thing she focused on was how it physically impacted me, how bad the fainting was, and how long it took me to wake up after it happened. I wished she understood better how minimal this was compared to the way Michael made me feel inside.

The sound of the front door being opened caught my attention. Soon enough, Carl came in, as I was still sitting on the floor by the stairs. I didn't budge, and just stayed there. I didn't find the strength to just stand on my feet.

"Brit, is everything okay?" Carl asked me, concern filling his voice as he jogged towards me once he spotted me. "Are you feeling dizzy? Or is it another headache?" he wondered, squatting just in front of me.

"I'm okay," I lied, shaking my head.

"You're lying, I can tell. What's wrong?" he asked, as he sat by my side, his coat and shoes still on. He put his hand on my forehead to check if I had a fever, and took my pulse with a finger on my wrist. "Is your head spinning?"

"Carl, really I'm fine," I reassured him, swatting his hand away from my face. "I was just sitting... there," I said, not able to find a reason why I was sitting on the floor.

"What happened around here? It looks like a tornado destroyed everything while I was gone," he commented, as he took a closer look to the messy apartment he came in.

"I was looking for something," I evasively answered.

"Did you find that something?" My boss curiously asked.

"No," I exhaled loudly. "All of this mess for nothing."

Silence filled the room, but I felt Carl's stare on me. He was obviously studying my demeanor and body language. He was always good at it.

"I can see there's something else. You look sadder than usual," he noticed. "Talk to me, Hale."

I sighed heavily once again, as tears started to well-up in my eyes, "Michael called again. I... I just miss him," I simply yet painfully admitted.

"Why do you keep avoiding him, then? Was he a douche to you? Do you want me to take care of him?"

I snorted, as a tear fell from my left eye, "You're silly," I said, as I looked in his direction. "He wasn't a douche to me."

"Then what's the problem?" he asked with a frown and a sad look on his face. "Please, don't cry. I hate to see you cry."

"It's complicated," I told him with yet another sigh, and looked back at him.

It was obvious that Carl cared for me, and that he was worried about my health issues. Through the days, he showed me that protective side of him, and I was happy I got to discover more about him day after days. The atmosphere around the loft wasn't heavy or cold anymore, because he brought with him a bit a warmth. Thanks to him, I was feeling safe in my own home.