A Perfect Stitch

Chapter 47 | fighting family demons

Lights out.

Silent breathing.

Stuttering curtains.

There, in-between four walls, away from the walk-in closet, an old clock ticked.

On an old rug, next to a scattered bed, I lay flat.

Beneath a dim bulb.

On a white page stained in black ink.

My fingers slid over the paragraph I loved most.

"In most fictional worlds, it's a truth universally that; the wrong bride might just be the right one in most cases, and believing in it is key."

Hot days and crying nights.

Boring weeks and cold mornings.

No matter the distance between us, Dwain stole my focus.

He was omnipresent.

Wasn't one month enough to forget about everything?

Shouldn't it have given me room to move on with my life?

Yet, as days and weeks rolled in, I thought of him each time my mind wandered far enough and got lost.

I picked up my favorite romantic comedy and read its last paragraph.

The last words of this perfectly written book reminded me of one thing.

My life with Horton's family was a mistake.

Later in the day when Dwain popped into my mind, I pictured his happiness and smiled.

At last, his life was back to normal with the girl he loved.

Since his happiness made me happy, it freed me from my selfish feelings.

I snapped out of my thoughts.

Dwain was history.

I stood up, sauntered to my window, and spread my curtains open.

Shading my eyes from the light, I strode to my rug and packed my scattered belongings into a duffle bag.

I removed my bedding, replaced them with clean sheets, and flattened my blanket on the bed.

Did Elisabeth treat Liam well?

I craved to invade him with kisses.

What about Brielle?

Did Elisabeth bring harmony to the Hortons?

I bit my lips.

The last time Elisabeth spoke with me dated back to the night of our swap.

And I'd locked my mobile phone in a drawer to make communication between the two of us impossible.

If I didn't know anything about the Hortons, it would be easier for me to move on and do something useful with my life like finding a job.

I pulled out a chair from my desk and slumped against it.

Puffing deeply, I picked up a newspaper from my desk and glimpsed through the Job offers I highlighted last night, making sure I didn't miss any valuable opportunity.

Once that was out of the way, I held my messed-up hair in a high bun and strolled to my closet.

It was finally the weekend.

I sorted out my dirty clothes, threw them into the laundry hamper, and packed the books that littered my room into a bookshelf.

"Open up bitch!"