This house feels empty. Of course, it does.
My bags are packed by the front door. Staff is running around making sure I had everything I needed. They just came from the frat house to pick up everything I had left there. My clothes, my books, her book.
Alejandro was just outside talking to our contacts back home and I sat by the pool looking out. I'm not smoking or drinking, just thinking. It's cold today but not so much that it's unbearable. Not so much that it burned my skin the way it should. Not so much that it hurts like this.
I take a deep breath in watching as spring crept its way into my lungs. Closing my eyes and thinking I was in a different time.
It's been a week. Seven whole days. A week since she walked out those doors with not another word. I can still see her walking out if I turn my head quick enough. I could still hear her voice and smell her perfume like she is here— she just isn't. Holding back tears now became a habit. Regretting too became normality.
The day after I told Evie about everything I remember waking up on the kitchen counter. My head was pounding and it was only then that I found the few glasses drawers smashed open. In my hand was the pipe I used to destroy them. It was fixed the next day yet seeing what I did reminded me of who I used to be; a destructive force.
I tried to call her every day, messaged her about a hundred times but heard nothing from her line. Devastated, I turned to the wine cellar and looked for my next drink. Then, I walked by our room. Her things were still in there—not that there were many— but they were there. Her shoes were scattered on the floor and that dress she wore next to it. Her towel hung neatly on the closet door. She's always been the neat one.
Daring not to move anything as though it were sacred, I walked in and relived everything that happened in there. The kisses, the touching, the sweet nothings, and the I love you's. I found her blue coat hanging by the vanity chair, it still smelt like her. She lingered in that room and I knew I didn't want to lose the last piece of her that I have. So I didn't. Before I knew it, I fell asleep, dreaming of her gleaming eyes followed by her saddened once. Who am I kidding? She wasn't just sad, she was disappointed in me. Though, I wasn't surprised.
On the fourth day, we began packing. I had told the advisors that I accepted their proposals. Then by then, at least someone was happy. Alejandro came by again to make sure I was briefed yet not one of the things said did I listen to. My head swam in the thought of her. No one could've blamed me for that. I missed her; the woman I gave my heart to; my home.
From the sixth day to now, I've settled on the fact that she might never come back. Why would she if she were to lose me anyway? Even I wouldn't want to see her again just to add insult to injury. I got angry too knowing that if I had just told her earlier then perhaps we would've spent the last of our times together perfectly.
Now, she's just gone.
I sighed in acceptance and turned around only to find my brother stood, arms crossed and watching me. I roll my eyes and adjusted my turtleneck while I walked by him.
"Really?" He said like he just got offended or something. I turned around confused, putting my hands in my pockets.
"What?" I said.
"You're really gonna sulk as if you've been through a divorce?" He raised a brow and I roll my eyes.
"If you are devoid of any human emotion anymore then don't even try," I sarcastically remarked and his mouth falls open.
"She did a number on you," he feigned a gasp, "a year ago you would've been over here in a flash. What did she do? Love potion?"
"She loved me,"
"So, yeah, love potion." He chuckled. I balled my fists and fought hard not to succumb to his heartless ways. Neither way, he is right.
A year ago I didn't even really understand the concept of love. To me, love was just a trend a lot of people ride on for the hell of it. Then there was her who saw love as the pinnacle of life, as the book of life. To her, love was Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy. Two people who end up together despite his pride. That's when I saw me. I dug in a little deeper and realized I was more than just thick skin and alcohol.
Then damn it, I lost her too.
But I guess that's just what I do. I get one good thing in my life and it can't even be there for two seconds until another storm comes. It's makes me won't if Ineven deserve serenity.
"Look, whatever it was it doesn't matter now." I said, "she's never coming back."
"Yeah, she won't." He confirmed.
Ok, yeah, I said it myself but that wasn't very brotherly, was it?
"She won't come back because you're waiting for her to come back, you idiot," he strutted towards me before flicking my forehead and walking to the kitchen. I snap towards him at the sudden physical and he scoff, taking a beer out of the fridge.
"Yo, what the fuck?" I asked as politely as I could.
"I'm not an expert with this type of shit but I think it works when you come and find her and tell her you love her?" He clarified and I scoffed.
What could he know? Last time I heard he's not had one good relationship. All he's ever really had were one night stands or business relations. He isn't reliable on these topics.
"Yeah, well, I've done that before but it was different then." I sank on the couch, "this time she won't forgive me because she knows that if she did there wouldn't be any point to it, I'm leaving anyway."
"And you can't have compromised? She can't call you or visit?"
"That long-distance shit never worked for anyone," I replied with enough knowledge of the endless chick flicks forced me to watch.
"Well, wouldn't you like to risk it for the last time?" He sips his beer, "you've three more days until you leave. Wouldn't you think it's worth a shot to see her one last time? Haven't you thought of how you'd regret it not finding out if anything changed in her mind?"
I tried to answer every question he had but my brain could only process so much. At first, I didn't believe him or a word he said. I started to consider them because of the way he presented them. Finally, I realized how stupid I must've been for just staying idle.
I began wondering if she was waiting for my calls that way I was waiting for hers each night. Every time I reminisced could sh have done the same? Did she see the picture of me that she drew and began rethinking her decisions? It feels silly now.
Silly that I was too caught in that one moment that wherever happened after just seized to exist until this moment. So the epiphany hits me.
What we had wasn't just something she can throw away. If I can't then she surely can't. We meant more to each other than sex or the dates or kisses. We meant sketches and paintings to each other. Poetry, music, and diary entries. She meant home to me and I meant a prince to her. That kind of love cannot just change because of a sudden change. She might have been mad but that doesn't mean she stopped loving me. She could be out there just waiting for my call.
"Motherfucker, " I cursed under my breath.
Jumping off my ass, I ran to the counter and picked up my keys with my coat.
"See? I'm not all that bad." Alejandro sipped proudly and I scoff.
"Yeah don't celebrate just yet."
With that, I bolted through the doors, and l left without hesitation.
Then in my mind, a million thoughts ran rampant in my mind until they all fell into one place. The place that said:
If she truly loves you, then she would've thought about you as much as you did.
As the rain poured louder, she sounds of it filling my car I felt my whole body jerk in expectancy. I missed her too much to even be nervous anymore. At this moment, all I knew is I wanted to see her, be with her, and hear her voice— even if it's the last time.
• • •
A/N
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