Page 117 of The Truth About Love

Or tread in the bus on my toes?

Will it come like a change in the weather?

Will its greeting be courteous or rough?

Will it alter my life altogether?

O tell me the truth about love.

At the beginning, Auden’s love swept me away like a whirlwind. It spun me until all I could see was him and his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks. We were the only two people who existed in the world. It was just him and me, lost in the vortex of our infatuation.

And then one day, the turbulence came.

I remember it like it was yesterday, that numbness that settled in my soul and ruined everything. It shook me loose from the safety of his storm and I fell from the sky alone, only to be replaced by another woman several years later.

But I wouldn’t give up my time in that tornado for anything. I know that now.

Auden takes a long, heavy breath before he rights himself and turns blazing eyes on to me. I don’t know how, but the inferno flaming in his irises forces me out of my seat and brings me to stand before him.

“You don’t mean that.”

I dip my eyes in shame and whisper, “No, I don’t.”

“Good.” He heaves a sigh of relief. “Because I came to tell you something.” His eyes swing over to Marlowe who has apparently been watching our exchange the entire time from the corner of the room. “Is there somewhere else we can talk?”

“Yeah.” I nod, trying not to throw up as I wonder what on earth he has to talk to me about.

Without saying anything else, mainly because I’m too nervous to speak, I guide him through the building to the private staircase that leads up to my apartment, without once looking back to check that he’s following.

He is though, as becomes evident when I feel the brush of his breath on my neck as I unlock the front door. He’s not even standing that close to me and yet my body is hyper-aware of him. Every miniscule movement he makes I can feel on my skin like he’s touching me directly.

All the drapes in the apartment are still closed despite it being early afternoon, so it’s hard to make out much as I step from the well-lit hallway into the darkness of the room.

“Why aren’t the curtains open?” Auden asks gently, walking over to one of the large wood-framed windows and throwing open the drapes.

“I don’t like the light anymore,” I answer simply, my eyes watering from the sudden assault of the daylight.

“Oh, baby.”

“Don’t call me that,” I snap immediately.

He ignores me, turning away to take in the place I now call home. My old apartment was all glossy finishes and luxury furniture, as insisted upon by my late mother, but my new home couldn’t be more different.

It’s a vast, open space, with everything but the bathroom existing in just one room. The walls are exposed brick that have faded in colour throughout the years, bare lightbulbs dangle from wires above us and the old floorboards are covered by a large vintage rug that I picked up second-hand. My queen bed has a headboard upcycled from someone’s tossed out rattan furniture, and is dressed in white waffle knit sheets and throw pillows in every colour the human eye can see.

It’s eclectic and rustic andme.

Auden skims his fingers across the countertops in the kitchen with a look on his face that I can’t interpret. He picks up a mug from the side and turns it over in his hands.

“This is cool,” he says, studying the hand painted figures dancing together across the ceramic.

“Thanks. One of my regulars made it for me.”

I smile, remembering the day I was given the gift. It had been a shitty morning about three weeks ago and the weight of living without Auden had been sitting heavy on my heart.

Connor, a military vet struggling to adjust to civilian life, came to my office and slipped the mug into my hands without saying a word. He didn’t need to. The fact that he’d wanted to make something for me like that, somethingat all,made me smile during a time that I didn’t think I’d ever smile again. I’ll be forever grateful to him for that.

And now I won’t drink my coffee out of any other cup.

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