Page 76
Story: Marc
“I’m going to miss you.”
She gives me a small smile. “I’ll miss you too. You and Marc are more than welcome to stop by anytime. You know I am usually always here.”
I return her smile. “I will come by all the time, and I’m sure Marc will, too.”
Miss Edith takes a bite of her cinnamon roll. “And make sure you bring me updated pictures of your models to look at.”
I chuckle. “Oh, I will, as long as you make the tea.”
“That’s the easy part. I’ll even throw in some snacks.”
Reluctantly I stand. “I have another photo shoot today, so I have to get going, but I’m sure I will see you before the house sells. I still have to come back and pack the few things that weren’t destroyed.”
She slowly stands and wraps her far too skinny yet deceptively strong arms around me.
“Take a cinnamon roll for the road.” She walks to the stove and puts a cinnamon roll in a storage container.
She looks at me before adding a second roll to the container. “Actually, take two. That way, you can give one to Marc.”
I take the offered container. “Thank you.”
After giving her one last hug, I head back to my house and put the cinnamon rolls in the passenger seat before heading inside.
My house looks rather empty with all the broken stuff taken out. Not much survived Jared.
Walking into the kitchen, I smile as I remember how happy I was when I first saw the black granite island and the white cabinets.
It was much more modern than the house Ishared with Jared. Not to mention it was a little bigger, so I had more space to get things and decorate.
I had dreams of hosting dinner parties and holiday get togethers, but that never happened.
This past year has been all about working and getting my business started. I haven’t had time to really make friends outside of Kat and the models.
I look at the small two-person table that’s missing a chair since Jared broke one of the legs.
It was where I set up my small tabletop Christmas tree. I never ate at the table anyway, so it was the perfect spot. The large bay windows helped to reflect the light back into the kitchen.
I look out the bay windows at the small backyard where I’ve had several bonfires in the stone fire pit.
The first time, it took forever to get the wood to light and when I finally did it, I was exhausted and put it out.
It got better, the more I practiced.
I wanted to buy a small dog to run around the backyard and to keep me company. Sure, I had work to occupy my time, but I’ve been single and lonely for over a year now.
I slowly walk down the hallway to my bedroom, taking time to remember all the good times I’ve had here.
My fingers run along the spot in the wall I had to patch up the day after moving in.
While no longer damaged or visible, I smile as Iremember carrying my headboard through the hallway where it fell and poked a hole in through the drywall.
I’ve learned so much about myself while living here over the past year. I almost can’t believe I’ve decided to sell my first home.
A loud crash sounds from the living room seconds before a car door slams shut. Tires squeal as the car drives off.
Running to the living room, my gaze searches for whatever made the crashing noise. Shards of glass litter the carpet from the shattered front window. A brick is laying a foot away from the couch.
Wrapped around the brick is a piece of paper held on by a rubber band.
She gives me a small smile. “I’ll miss you too. You and Marc are more than welcome to stop by anytime. You know I am usually always here.”
I return her smile. “I will come by all the time, and I’m sure Marc will, too.”
Miss Edith takes a bite of her cinnamon roll. “And make sure you bring me updated pictures of your models to look at.”
I chuckle. “Oh, I will, as long as you make the tea.”
“That’s the easy part. I’ll even throw in some snacks.”
Reluctantly I stand. “I have another photo shoot today, so I have to get going, but I’m sure I will see you before the house sells. I still have to come back and pack the few things that weren’t destroyed.”
She slowly stands and wraps her far too skinny yet deceptively strong arms around me.
“Take a cinnamon roll for the road.” She walks to the stove and puts a cinnamon roll in a storage container.
She looks at me before adding a second roll to the container. “Actually, take two. That way, you can give one to Marc.”
I take the offered container. “Thank you.”
After giving her one last hug, I head back to my house and put the cinnamon rolls in the passenger seat before heading inside.
My house looks rather empty with all the broken stuff taken out. Not much survived Jared.
Walking into the kitchen, I smile as I remember how happy I was when I first saw the black granite island and the white cabinets.
It was much more modern than the house Ishared with Jared. Not to mention it was a little bigger, so I had more space to get things and decorate.
I had dreams of hosting dinner parties and holiday get togethers, but that never happened.
This past year has been all about working and getting my business started. I haven’t had time to really make friends outside of Kat and the models.
I look at the small two-person table that’s missing a chair since Jared broke one of the legs.
It was where I set up my small tabletop Christmas tree. I never ate at the table anyway, so it was the perfect spot. The large bay windows helped to reflect the light back into the kitchen.
I look out the bay windows at the small backyard where I’ve had several bonfires in the stone fire pit.
The first time, it took forever to get the wood to light and when I finally did it, I was exhausted and put it out.
It got better, the more I practiced.
I wanted to buy a small dog to run around the backyard and to keep me company. Sure, I had work to occupy my time, but I’ve been single and lonely for over a year now.
I slowly walk down the hallway to my bedroom, taking time to remember all the good times I’ve had here.
My fingers run along the spot in the wall I had to patch up the day after moving in.
While no longer damaged or visible, I smile as Iremember carrying my headboard through the hallway where it fell and poked a hole in through the drywall.
I’ve learned so much about myself while living here over the past year. I almost can’t believe I’ve decided to sell my first home.
A loud crash sounds from the living room seconds before a car door slams shut. Tires squeal as the car drives off.
Running to the living room, my gaze searches for whatever made the crashing noise. Shards of glass litter the carpet from the shattered front window. A brick is laying a foot away from the couch.
Wrapped around the brick is a piece of paper held on by a rubber band.
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