I moved back to my house in Neilton. It was strangely eerie to see all these people again after all this time. Some recognized me and stared, knowing the last they saw me I was dragged into an elusive van. The taxi stopped at my house and I stepped out and looked over my house. Mr. Michael was out watering his garden and he saw me, “Bree how have you been? Where’s that little redhead of yours?”
I felt tears spring to my eyes and I turned to look at him, “Mr. Michael, I honestly don’t know,” and I unlocked my door and walked in. The first thing I did was flop face first into the couch and cried.
And I stayed that way for I don’t know how long. But soon I pulled myself up from the couch and just moved over to my bed, falling asleep without any dinner.
The next morning I was tirelessly waiting for my coffee to finish. I didn’t get that great of a night’s sleep and I was so out of it that I was staring at the coffeepot for who knows how long.
Once my coffee was finally finished I brainlessly began going through the chore of cleaning my house out. No one had lived in it for probably five or so months so the dust created quite the accumulation. I groaned during one hour of the cleaning because of all the paints I had to throw away. Since us leaving was a bit sudden, I never closed all of them. And artist paint is expensive.
It was around 4 o’clock when my eyes connected with the pictures that all sat on my dresser. They were all of my 2 months of freedom, me being on the road, Jude and I together, even one of Pat, Jude and I. I picked up the one of the three of us and shoved it into my underwear drawer. And, with tears filling my eyes, I threw the rest of the photos away.
I was completely done with cleaning out the past in that house, and with a sigh I plopped myself on the couch. It was 7 o’clock and it was extremely silent in the house with just myself.
So I began to think.
I thought about how right at this second, Pat was away getting married to someone else. Someone other than me. I kicked my coffee table in anger, thinking of how amazing he probably looked under the lights they decorated the park’s trees with.
And then, without thinking, I grabbed my phone and dialed his phone number. So what if I was interrupting his wedding?
“This isn’t Patrick,” a familiar female voice said. I gulped and debated the idea of hanging up when the voice continued, “I’m guessing you’re Bree? It’s Janel.”
“I...I’m really sorry for interrupting your wedding. I totally forgot to look at the clock and-”
“Bree, relax there’s no wedding.”
I was totally confused at this point. No wedding? But they were definitely getting married. They had their engagement rings on both of their fingers, “But...I don’t understand.”
“I knew that Pat never really did love me. It all started
with a drunken stupor, but I thought maybe he would eventually look at me with eyes full of love. It never happened.
“But he did eventually show the eyes full of love, but never towards me. That look was always towards ‘Louise’, you I presume?”
“Yes, but I’m still confused. What about-” This time I was interrupted by my doorbell ringing instead of Janel talking, “Oh hold on Janel. Someone’s at my door,” I set my phone down on the coffee table and walked up to the door, “Hello?”
And as I opened my door all my questions towards Janel were answered. Standing on my front porch were Patrick and little Julianne.
Pat gave one of his famous dimpled smiles and asked, “Do you have room for two more by chance?”