Page 65 of Unspoken Hearts
Going back to my typing, I munch down the toasty and my very average coffee, while working on my next chapter. Halfway through, I sit back, staring at the page, re-reading the last sentence several times, as if I’m second guessing myself.
I do this a lot with my writing. I think most authors would, especially on their first ever draft, so that does seem to settle my swirling thoughts. At least my stomach isn’t knotting right now with hunger.
Signing, I close my laptop with a frustrated huff. My phone screen lights up. Frowning at the number, it’s not one that I recognise.
Hesitating for a moment, I scoop it up to answer. “Hello, this is Macie.”
“Hi, Macie. This is Sandra from Crimson Homes calling about your current rental you share with…” she drifts off and I hear shuffling of paper in the background as my heart rate spikes, “Miss Lucy Cooper.”
My Aunt’s name makes my spine shiver uncomfortably. She hasn’t called me in months, not since the night she left everything behind apart from my money and some of her belongings.
“Sure,” I squeeze out, knowing that Sandra must be calling about the repairs that need to be made. At least that what’s I keep telling myself, because I refuse to let go of the house so easily. “What would you like to discuss?”
“I’m calling on behalf of Walter Jones, your landlord, to confirm the early ending of your lease.”
My heart sinks in my chest. Even though he’d already told me he was ceasing our lease, a small part of me had hoped that he might change his mind, but this phone call solidifies the fact that our home is gone, and technically now I’m homeless.
I hate imposing on people, so maybe I could start looking for a new place, but with my financial state and track record of late payments, I doubt I could get anything, let alone find a place as affordable as Walter’s in this area.
I let out a shaky exhale, my hands beginning to sweat. “Yes, Walter already told me about that.”
“Oh, well good.” I can hear the tinge sympathy in her tone, making the hairs on my arms stand up. “I’m sorry about all of this. Normally we would hear out both sides, but the property belongings to Mr Jones, so we can’t overrule his decision, no matter how… detrimental it is for you.”
My teeth pull on my top lip, all hope draining away as I slump back in my chair. “No, I understand. I guess this conversation was needed to tell me to find a new place.” My voice comes out as small as I feel.
Sandra is quiet for a long beat, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat, tapping a chipped nail against the tabletop in time with the heavy thudding in my throat.
“I will try and find something for you, Miss Cambell, but with your budget—”
“No, I know,” I tell her, not wanting to hear how much of a failure I have become that I can’t even afford my own place to live in as a twenty-five year old. But, then again, I spent most of my savings on my brother’s education, and if that means that he has a better chance in life, then that makes me happy.
The line is silent again, and my eyes roam over the cafe, feeling as though someone might overhear us. There’s only another couple and a student sitting in here, and they’re not close enough to eavesdrop, thankfully.
“I will try my best, Macie. For you and your aunt.” That makes me swallow, my throat burning as I look down at my fingers fiddling on the table. “Do you have a place to stay in the meantime?”
“Some friends have a spare room, but I’m not sure how long I can stay there, even though they haven’t asked me to pay anything.”
“Well, I’ll ask around.” She sounds to be middle aged, and very kind.
Nodding, I quickly thank her before ending the call.
Dropping my phone on the table with a soft clang, I feel Laynie beside me, hovering like the concerned parent she almost is. “Who was that?”
Hands running down my face, I mumble, “The real estate agent called about my rental.”
“And?” she presses, sliding into the wooden chair opposite mine.
My eyes lift to her light ones as I exhale, already tired of today. “She said that the lease is definitely done with.”
Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline as my toes curl uncomfortably. This has done nothing to alleviate the pressure weighing me down. My shoulders cave inwardly.
Laynie curses under her breath, and I nod, digging my hand through my hair.
“What are you going to do?” Laynie asks, reaching out to cup my other hand on the table. “You know I would help—”
“I know.” I shake my head quickly. “But it’s your parent’s place.”
Her lips purse as her grip tightens on mine. “They won’t mind. And neither will Freddie. My cat adores you.”
