Page 2 of All I Want Is Love
“Yes?” He blinks at me, but before I can open my mouth, he shuts me up. “If you are going to thank me again, I’ll get angry.”
I close my mouth. “Nothing,” I mutter.
He chuckles. “Take your time,” he says, before taking the staircase down to the front door and closing the door behind him. It creaks slightly, the sound just adding to the charm of the place. Silence engulfs me now that I am alone. For minutes, I just stand in the main area, the broad living room. It’s all open space. I would have hated it a couple of months ago, but now it feels liberating to have no doors anywhere aside from the bathroom. And there is a curtain in front of the area that’s supposed to be the bedroom. I approach the furthest part of the apartment, checking the king-sized bed. It has fresh linen with snow crystal patterns all over it. It’s so cheesy, it makes my heart hurt. Getting down on my knees, I bury my head in the blanket and just cry into it, not able to stop myself. It just bubbles out of me, and I can’t stop it. I have no control over my emotions recently; I have no control over my life or my thoughts.
I don’t know how long I sob into the blanket, but eventually, there are no tears left. I feel exhausted, wishing I could curl up here and just stay that way forever.
Aspen is waiting for me, though.
Right.
I need to unpack.
Unpack.
The thought pushes me forward, my mind jumping into functioning mode again, and I go through the motions as if onautopilot. I didn’t bring many of my things, just like I told my brother. So, I am done with unpacking in half an hour.
The kitchen of the apartment is well equipped, the fridge stocked with all kinds of things, as are the shelves. It brings fresh tears to my eyes.
He is so kind.
The last things to unpack are my laptop, my phone and my other electronics. I brought my graphic tablet. It’s top-notch, one of the best out there, and I loved using it for my designs. I take it into my hands, but the light device feels heavy in my hands
He is a fraud.
I am a fraud.
I drop the item back into my bag as if I just got burned. Instead of unpacking my electronics, I decide to close my bag and shove it into the darkest corner of my wardrobe. The only item I keep outside is my phone, but it’s switched off. The last time I used it was to contact Aspen. Communicating with him was the only reason to keep it on.
Not that I talked to him at first. He actually came chasing me down and knocked on my door in person.
Now that I am here, though, I don’t need it anymore. I have no one to talk to, no one who I want to reach out to. I thought I had friends, but they turned their backs on me when I would have needed them, only trying to reconnect with me when my name got cleared.
It was months too late.
Grabbing my pocket watch, the one I inherited from Grandpa, I notice I still have twenty minutes left before meeting with Aspen. To get a feel for the town, I decide to step onto the small balcony of the apartment. The crisp air sends a chill over my arms. It’s cold. Winter is approaching much earlier here, as we are further north. There is no snow yet, but the air smells like it.Below my balcony, there is a road leading further into the town’s center, but there are barely any cars, as everyone seems to be happy to walk.
A bunch of kids are running down the path and disappear into a shop with games displayed in it. Video games and board games alike. Another group runs into a donut place.
It’s almost unbearably idyllic. My throat feels tight again, so I retreat, closing the balcony door and deciding it’s time to meet with Aspen.
I find the way to the coffee shop immediately. Aspen said,Down the road, you can’t miss it. And he was right.
The place is crowded with people, making me happy that it’s so well-liked. Meanwhile, Aspen is sitting at a table, chatting with another man. The latter spots me first and waves at me, before elbowing my brother. Aspen immediately turns around, smiles and stands up to approach me. He doesn’t give me a chance to fret, just guides me to his table. At first glance, he might look out of place with his tattoos and his black-dyed hair, but yet, he doesn’t. He clearly belongs.
The man he was talking to smiles brightly at me, his whole face lighting up with the smile, eyes turning small. “Is this your brother, Wayne? The cutie from the photos?”
“Wayne?” I blink.
“It’s his nickname,” the guy grins. “Like Batman.”
I smile, my chest warming at the thought of my brother being so popular.
“Only that idiot calls me like that,” he groans.
“You haven’t introduced us yet,”that idiotsays, winking at me. He looks younger than my brother, has blond hair and cute dimples. He is not my type, but he is pretty. The thoughtmakes me almost recoil with guilt. “You also didn’t say that your brother is such a cutie.”
“Hands off my lil bro,” Aspen huffs.
