Page 56 of Sorry, We're Closed

“No, I should’ve locked you two in a room, and you would’ve gotten on with it a lot quicker! Even Xander agrees.”

I pull back and roll my eyes before releasing a breathy laugh. Is Gwen right? I have been slowly losing the tight grip I have on my true self over these past few months, and I haven’t felt so much emotion and warmth in so long, until Avory.

“Gwen, I can’t force him to stay in Tetherton his whole life. Not only that, but we can’t do this song and dance of sneaking around our whole lives. Marcus and Avory have their dream, and I can’t get in the way of that.”

Gwen’s smile grows wide as she listens to me questioning every part of her so-called plan.

“So, you’ve been thinking about a life with him, huh?” She bites her lip, attempting to contain her giggle and failing miserably.

My lips refuse to part but she can tell by the smile that begins to curl that,maybethat thought has brushed past in my mind. Yes, I am fully aware that this is such an insane and forward thought to have, but all I know is that when I am with Avory, everything is okay. It doesn’t just seem okay, everythingisokay. The way he makes me feel, I never want it to end, and I struggle to believe that this is an emotion which you feel because of any relationship. No, this is an emotion I feel because ofAvory.

Gwen’s feet begin to bounce while her fists wiggle side to side by her chest. Her excitement is shortly interrupted when her trouser pocket begins to buzz. She pulls it out, her nails clicking against the glass screen.

“Crap! That man is useless! I asked Xander to watch my vanilla sponges while I came to see you and look what he did!”

Gwen, with her eyebrows scowling at her screen, turns the screen to face me and all that is displayed is a silver tin with a black, creased rock leaking over the sides of the tin. I’m now the one biting my lip to prevent myself from laughing because I am not ready to be clawed with those nails of hers.

“It’s fine! If he has no bread rolls to sell later though, it wasn’t me!” Gwen winks before laughing and pulling me in for one last hug.

As I bury myself in her comfort once more, Gwen whispers, “Hun, you will be okay.You will be okay. Thank you for sharing everything with me today, and while I can’t decide what you do and what you don’t do, you need to put yourself first now.”

I nod into her shoulder because if I speak, I know I’ll cry again.

Twenty-Six

Avory

My limbs pin themselves to the bed this morning. No matter what I try, I cannot bring myself to rise out of the safety of my duvet because I know that as soon as my feet touch the floor, then I need to get dressed. If I get dressed, that means I must leave the flat. If I leave the flat, that means I’m going to Sombre’s Café and if I’m going to Sombre’s Café then that means I’ll see Sawyer. Sawyer, the man who I have effortlessly fallen for, and yet if I see him today, that means I’m telling him that I’m leaving. We’re leaving because we have been handed the most amazing opportunity, the opportunity which we have been striving for since the beginning, and yet I’m not excited. I’m dreading it entirely because as soon as we leave for said opportunity, I’m leaving behind an opportunity which I never thought I’d ever have.

Love. No, not love. Do I dare call it love? No, because if I loved Sawyer, I wouldn’t have left him on read last night when I could see that he needed me, wanted me to talk to him. He needed support and I purposefully ignored him. That’s not what you do to someone you love. Maybe if I canconvince myself of this, it’ll be easier to let him go.

My foot taps a comforting beat somehow attempting to calm my nerves, my racing heartbeat, my aching mind, yet my hand refuses to lift from my side to knock on the steel door. My breathing begins to quake because I know he’s on the other side of this door and he’s waiting for me. He’s waiting for me to greet him in the usual way I do with my hands resting on his waist and my lips against his, completely encased in his warmth and softness—And when on earth did it get so overwhelmingly hot out here?

A chilling evening breeze hears my cries as it weaves its way through my black and white checkered shirt, the cooling sensation grounding my body and mind to the here and now, and with a mental push off the ledge, my hand is on the door. Sawyer taught me to inhale, hold, exhale. In, hold, out. In, hold—The door begins to screech open. His hazel curls with strands of gold throughout bounce against his forehead as he readjusts his glasses. A soft yet pleasing smile rises across his face, and only then do I realise that I never released my breath.

Instead, my body lunges forward before my mind can think of a single word to say, and my arms surround Sawyer, his head and warming breath burying into the nook of my neck washing me in a pleasant comfort which I wish I could sink away in, never having to leave this moment, ever.

Sawyer slowly pulls back, his fingertips softly grazing my cheeks before travelling to the back of my neck and tangling themselves in the roots of my hair.

“You missed me that much, huh?” he teases as he gently laughs to himself, and that laugh is nearly enough to cause me to crumble in his hands.

My eyes refuse to look at his, his jade spheres which always bring me a sense of peace, yet they only seem to wreak chaos within my mind, and he isn’t even aware as to why. My thoughts spill past my lips in a whisper, and I can’t catch them in time.

“I’m always going to miss you this much, evenmorethan this.”

All my remaining hope falls into Sawyer not hearing what I said. His face tells me everything, though. Even in my peripherals, I can’t stand to see him with such an expression which morphs from confusion to realisation. I gently remove his hands from my neck, and with one swift step, I’m around and past Sawyer, entering the sparkling clean café which is swimming in a mixture of citrus cleaning products. A sparkling clean café which Sawyer causes so we can spend as much of our time together, learning about each other, mentally, emotionally, physically.

I roll my head back and forth until my eyes face the tiled ceiling, the tears forming being held back with as much force as possible. I blink, I roll my eyes back. In, hold, out, but nothing works.

Sawyer’s footsteps are always faint, gentle as if he floats everywhere he goes, but the slight heel he has on his brown loafers give away his arrival. I’m weak, and my eyes fall to his. A neutral expression is all I can read from his untouched and ironed features, his shoulders rising and falling ever so slightly as he takes deep breaths. Just focusing on his shoulders, my breathing calms, falling in time with his, and he notices. That gentle smile returns, alongside his harmonic and soothing tone.

“Avory, are you leaving?”

I force myself to believe I imagine the crack in his vocals at the end of his question, and I stumble over myself as he somehow already knows. My throat dries and feels identical to the end of a show, and I know how hard it is to talk after performing.

“How did you know?”

I gladly accept his hands intertwining with mine.

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