Creed of the Leviathan II

01 | M

Mattia

My fingers ticked away on the steering wheel as my impatience was building up to a level I could no longer control. The air conditioner was on, and the weather was on the colder side, yet somehow, I could not stop sweating through my clothes. With my every breath my heartbeat increased, especially anytime a random taxi would stop in front of the building. Each time, I hoped that it would be the one. I glanced at my watch; it was almost three o' clock. She was supposed to be there by then, because she was always on time.

'Where are you?' I asked myself as I scratched my chin and kept my eyes fixed on the passing cars. As if the universe had finally gotten enough of my pain, a taxi stopped in front of the gate. And when the backdoor opened it was her who got out, dressed in black leather pumps, a brown pencil skirt and a black blouse that was tucked into the skirt. The sight of her walking by, smiling and greeting others generated confidence that she wore as well as the outfit she had on. Emmanuelle always had an easy grip on my attention, but this sight made me lean forward, greedy to see more of her. She walked up to the gate and exchanged a few words with one of the teachers who then went inside and not long after returned with a young boy who was the spitting image of my brother when he was around that age. I sat back as I watched him run into Nuelle's arms after which they stepped into the taxi.

Five years— almost five years had passed since she left with Anthony. People claim that time heals all wounds. Time could make you move on, accept or maybe even forget. I tried my hardest to believe this much in time and for a little over year it made me keep my promise of staying away. I struggled and suffered in absolute silence until one day I realized that I did not want to move on, I did not want to accept that it was our end, and I certainly did not want to forget all that happened.

Therefore, I found myself sitting in a parked rental car, watching them from a distance as I hoped to not get caught. Seeing her, seeing them was not enough to make my heart whole again. I always longed for more, but no moment seemed like the right moment to show up on her doorstep. And though I wished I could have watched them every day, I usually only stayed for a maximum of three days because of the work and priorities I had to tend to back at home. If only the distance between our cities was closer. With a deep sigh I started the car and drove back to my hotel. Once I got to my room, I ordered myself a very late lunch and then I returned the call from Marissa.

"Have you spoken to her?"

"Yeah, I'm doing well. Thanks for asking. The weather's okay today, by the way." I sarcastically said. She was quiet for a moment, definitely not amused by my lack of seriousness.

"I'm sorry. I—"

"It's okay," my eyes found the ceiling as I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. "I didn't. I didn't get the chance." I lied.

"Tomorrow's your last day there and we don't know how much time she has left."

"I know," I breathed out. "I'll figure something out. Tell Tia I said hi. I'll call you back tonight."

Marissa was right, we were running out of time. Yet somehow, I could not get myself to man up and knock-on Nuelle's door even though I had a valid reason for breaking my promise. Day after day I wished for something to happen that would leave me with no choice other than to approach her, but when this opportunity finally presented itself, I could not go through with it. Even after all the time that passed, I was still troubled by what she said. Did she really blame me for Marco's death, is that why she left? These questions were a constant de-motivation, a hindrance to my clear consciousness. I walked back and forth, trying to talk sense into myself. I played out every possible scenario of her reaction to when she would see me and none of these thoughts were positive.