If Someday Never Comes

Chapter 35

Sydney's POV

Well, that was fucking awkward, and yet, comfortable...too comfortable and that realization makes me panic, ever so slightly and suddenly I feel the deep need to escape from this room. His scent lingers in the small area and it feels like the walls may close in on me.

Abort. Abort. Abort. The alarm sounded off in my head so I decided to go check out Lucy's house because I was too distracted by my dreamland make-out sesh to stop this morning. 

And there's no time like the present. 

I toss on my coat and pass the guys in a hurry, I dart across the street, unlock the door, and step into the small two-bedroom house. Everything is white. Like-REALLY white, the walls, and cabinets. Thankfully the carpet is at least light tan, but still, yeesh. 

Despite that, which can be fixed with a few coats of paint, the kitchen is small, with a tiny island, and the cabinets lining the wall in an L-shape but perfect for the amount of cooking I'll be doing for one. The bathroom is supplied with a great vanity and tiled shower while the master bedroom has a massive closet-plus there will be an entire guest bedroom that's empty and asking to be filled with the clothes that don't fit in my own. Take that Quinn.

It could use a little dusting, but the house seems to have been kept up pretty nicely. As I wander around I imagine myself living here, with different colored paint on the walls, of course, and it makes me feel excited. The thought of walking across the street to work every day, to The Graveyard Coffee Shop, MY coffee shop. Butterflies ignite in my stomach but as I look around, uneasiness overcomes the excitement and settles in the bottom of my belly...

 I take a deep breath, having a place of my own... I've never lived alone before. 

I went from living with my parents to living with Quinn. We had the comfort of drinking our morning coffees and binge-watching TV until the wee hours of the morning. Reminding each other to pay the rent or water bill, or to buy more tampons before Shark Week, showed up for us both. You don't live with another woman for five years and NOT sync up your cycles. 

Now, it'll just be me... here, alone. Paying bills, drinking coffee, buying tampons...

I bite my lip as the pressure builds behind my eyes, I've never been good at being alone. It means too many quiet moments and too many hours to spend with my thoughts. 

As passionate as I am about The Graveyard and grateful to be here with my parents, that's all I have. 

A twinge of sadness fills my heart. I miss Quinn, Sara, Betsy, hell I even miss Mrs. Anderson, the crazy old bat, I've been avoiding acknowledging it. The changes that have all happened so quickly, in typically Sydney style I just kept moving, pushing, and going on to the next thing before I recognized how I felt about it all. 

 A single tear falls down my cheek. 

This will be good for me, I tell myself. You can do this, I assure the doubts swarming my mind.

After giving myself a moment to wallow, I made my way back over to the coffee shop as the guys were loading up their tools to leave, Phil called over, "Hey Syd, we will be finishing up the floor tomorrow and then drywall will start going up." 

"Sounds great Phil, you guys are the dream team," I wink, but I can tell it falls flat. He sees the distress all over my face, which isn't a surprise, I've always been a wear your heart on your sleeve kinda girl. Luckily for me he only nods, tosses up a wave, and jumps in his truck. 

That's the beauty of men, they will typically sense an emotional woman and run in the opposite direction. I don't take offense, I wouldn't want to deal with me either.