Unbound, Boundless Series, Book 2

Chapter Thirty Eight

I emptied my weekender bag. If the bag could talk, it would speak volumes of the passion Matt and I had together during those whirlwind moments together. I dressed in my comfy, lounging clothes—t-shirt and yoga pants. I didn't have sneakers with me, so I wore flats. I grabbed my purse and keys, locking up to make my way to my studio apartment in another city which felt like a trillion miles away.

The last commute to Charlestown was bittersweet. 

I'd made this trip thousands of times, and when I dated Matt they were less frequent. When we broke up, the trip felt long and took its toll on me. This trip felt no different, overwhelming me. I couldn't take another cab, fearing a rideshare just as much. I traveled by train and then by bus as I'd had while employed at Duration. To keep my mind off of the monumental event, I observed the other commuters as they traveled to their own destinations. I wondered where they were going, what were they going to do when they arrived, and was their trip fulfilling for them as mine was supposed to be.

The moving company was scheduled to arrive at nine in the morning. They were to pack my little place up and bring all the furniture out for the charity truck. When I arrived, I unlocked my little refuge; a space that fortified my independence. I smiled as I thought of how I not only became financially and emotionally independent but experienced my sexual freedom and explored my desires.

The mail was piled high in the box, and I made a note to change my address online. I went about cleaning out my fridge, taking care to pull out the things I could save from the freezer. My studio was so small I lived without excess. The packing and the move would take almost no time. Clean-up would be even faster.

They packed all my belongings. There were three of us in a tiny studio apartment, attempting to stay out of each other's way. Once they were done, the movers made box runs to store the contents in the moving truck. I stayed outside to keep watch over my belongings as they ran up and down the stairs. I got chills a few times, feeling exposed as I stood outside. Thoughts of my kidnapper left me hyper-aware. I looked around my surroundings, ensuring I wasn't targeted by an attacker. It was a sensation I'd never felt before. I wasn't the type to be scared or paranoid of random sights and sounds.

After the movers removed all of my property from the apartment, I waited outside for the charity truck to pick up the donated furniture. As I paced around waiting, a car honked and I panicked. I looked around frantically, but it was only the truck signaling its arrival. My heart beat wildly, and I took many cleansing breaths to slow it down. As soon as the last item was loaded, I walked back upstairs to clean and dust everything. When I was done, I looked back at the small space proudly, thankful for the safety and comfort it provided during a solemn time in my life. It slowly lifted the veil of darkness and allowed the light to bring vitality back into my life.

Slipping an envelope containing my single key under the landlady's door, I trekked to the bus one last time. A promise of a large tip to the movers allowed me enough time to return to the city by my usual commute. I was famished but made my way to the apartment to allow the mover time to deliver my things.

When I arrived at the apartment building, I found Gill waiting for me in the front desk area. I was surprised to see him there.

"What are you doing here?"

"Bringing you food. I'm sure you haven't eaten."

"You're a mind reader. I'm starving, but you didn't have to bring me food on your day off."

"I told you, I'm your PA. You pay me good money to take care of you." He grinned.

Despite our short time together as colleagues, I reached for him and gave him a hug. "Thank you so much. I can use a friend today," I admitted.

We arrived at my apartment and we proceeded to eat. A buzz on the intercom alerted me to the arrival of the movers. I gave them permission to start bringing my boxes up. There was no furniture to bring in, so they stacked boxes on the building's dollies, taking three trips. I gave them a check and an extra tip for their efforts and quick service.

After locking the door, I returned to sit in the small dining area. I marveled at finally having a dining space of my own.

"How does it feel to be here?"

"Honestly, I don't think I slept a wink last night. I was tired, but there was heightened anxiety over being in a new place, a new job, and there is still so much uncertainty. Everything that's happened in the last month has been such a life-altering experience. I lived in a tiny studio and for some reason, it felt like a haven. Last night, as I lay in a bigger bed . . . in a bigger room . . . in an even bigger apartment, I felt like I was imprisoned in the studio; like it was a punishment for mistakes I've made in the past. And this . . . this feels like I deserve good things. I don't know." I looked at him with tears in my eyes. "Sorry. I think I answered more than you actually asked." I laughed. Gill smiled wistfully.

"I can see this has been a big change. One for the better, I hope." He raised his beer bottle and I raised mine, clinking in good spirit.

"How was the date with your beau?" I asked.

"It was great. His name is John Peter. He's Haitian, a third-year law student downtown. The kindest and most supportive man I've ever been with." I cooed as he spoke of John Peter.

"Well, I'm happy for you. Now, if John Peter had a brother, I would be happy for me." Gill laughed. We finished our pasta dish. 

After cleaning up, Gill offered to help me unpack the kitchen. We talked as we worked. I had the essentials and realized I needed to expand my cookware and serving ware for entertaining. The ones I had was sized for no more than two people. At a later time, I would make a list of all the things I needed to fill the kitchen and make a special shopping trip to purchase everything.

Gill and I got more acquainted with each other's history. He was equally as hard of a worker. Gill was thirty and was born and raised in the Boston area of Chestnut Hill. His parents were professors at the college in the town. They were loving and supportive of the path he took academically and professionally. They've only wanted the best for Gill, and are pleased he is a working professional.

After completing the kitchen, we took boxes to my bedroom. Unpacking went just as fast as packing. Thankful I had very few things to unpack, we took all the flattened boxes to the refuse room. I hugged Gill and thanked him for his unwavering support. Closing the door behind Gill when he departed, I entered my bedroom to get ready for bed. Because I hadn't gotten much sleep over the last week since my kidnapping, I needed my rest for the next day's dance practice. 

Being free of romantic entanglement, rehearsals were the only thing I looked forward to all week.