Eight: Worry

Gosh, it was all so surreal.

So perfect.

I think I had never felt more happy in my life. My life itself seemed to be turning around. Andrea had flipped it up-side-down....in only the best of ways.

I sighed contentedly as I looked at the boxes before me, proof that this was all real.

Where was she? She sure seemed to be gone a while. I was pretty much finished doing all what she asked, and it had been some time since she left to get the rest of the boxes.

Maybe she needed my help.

I flipped out my phone and typed out a quick text. I paused before I hit the send button. Was I pushing it? Was I becoming too...clingy? What, was I worried that someone was going to steal her away from me? Or was I afraid she was just going to have this all-of-a-sudden realization that I wasn't right for her? Was that obvious to her?

I shook my head and sent it off, the message disappearing before my eyes. Whatever. I think too way much. And she may really need me to move out some heavier of the packages.


Time ticked by ever so slowly, and there was still no reply. Checking my phone every few seconds and staring at the clock made no difference.

Something must be up. Something is wrong.

I finally snatched my keys and got in the car. I was probably speeding, but I didn't get caught and I made it over to Andrea's old flat unscathed, and in record time to boot.

As I clicked off the engine, I stepped from my car and caught sight of her, curled frighteningly on the pavement in front of her apartment. My heart nearly jumped in my throat.

  "Andrea?" I hurried to her side. She looked up to me, an alarmed expression crossing her tear-stained face, something flashing in her reddened, bloated eyes. Anxious, I knelt down by her. "What's wrong?"

Andrea did her best to mask whatever she was crying about, sniffing and pulling herself to a standing position before I could offer her help up. "Nothing," she murmured unconvincingly, like a child trying to hide away something.

I stood as well, putting my hand to her arm, almost afraid she was going to fall over or something. I was extraordinarily uncomfortable, unsure of how to react to this sudden...breakdown. I had never dealt with anything like this ever before."Seriously, something must be wrong," I prodded gently. "Are...you sad about leaving your flat?"

She laughed slightly, shaking her head, "Not really."

"Was anyone pestering you? Tell me who they are, and I'll hunt them down and....,"

"No, no one was pestering me, Keith."

I frowned to myself, unable to get much more out of her and not wanting to risk angering her in such a...fragile state.  "Here, we can head back to my place and I'll make you some warm food to cheer you," I offered sweetly, slipping my arm slowly around her waist. She accepted the gesture and allowed me to guide her to my car. "Don't worry about the rest of the boxes--I can come back and get them later."

Opening the door, I watched her get safetly in the seat before I made my way to the driver's side and started up the car.

All the way back she was silent, staring out the window as if she did not want to look at me. I clenched at my teeth, frustrated at myself for not being able to....do anything, I guess.

Everything had looked so great. What was wrong now?

The End

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