27 | ≠ antecedent

7.3K 278 39
                                    

There are a million things I want to say to Ali

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

There are a million things I want to say to Ali. I wanna tell her how it's definitely not her fault, how there was no way she could've known. How she was sick, how it was raining, how the kid made the wrong decision, how Elliot was the one to blame, how so many things were into play that night.

But I stop myself, because looking at her, I know she has heard all these things before. It happened years ago, years before I knew her, and millions more people must've said million more things to her.

The air in the apartment is heavy as if some external forces are waiting for me to react. And then I realise that my girlfriend is the force waiting for me, so I do what feels the most natural to me. I lean over, pull her towards me and into my lap and hug her as tightly as I can. She melts in my arms and buries her face into the crook of my neck, letting out more tears as she lets herself relax in my hold. Whispers of sweet nothings leave me and reach her ear like a sweet melody.

After a few minutes, she pulls away and stares at me with puffy eyes, a red nose, hair dishevelled. But there's admiration in her eyes, admiration and something else which I don't have the time to think about.

"Thank you," she whispers.

I narrow my eyes at her and reply, "Thank you? You're gonna thank me now?"

She chuckles and shakes her head, "Ma taught me to be polite, Wright."

"And Mom taught me that things we do for our people don't require thank yous," I reply, challenging her with my eyes.

"But saying thank you is the way to show appreciation. And I'm really good at saying it. So let me be good at something at least," she teases, making me chuckle.

"Fine. After all, it is literally the only thing you're good at."

I should've expected the shoulder slap I received not even a split second later.

"Oww," I wail and watch her smirking at me. She gets up from my lap and walks towards the kitchen.

"What do you want to eat?" she asks, and my mouth answers before my brain can filter myself.

"You."

She doesn't even glance up, just smiles wider and answers, "Okay."

If I were a cartoon, my eyes would've popped out this very minute.

I struggle to make any coherent response when my phone ringing saves-interrupts?- me.

Without even looking who's calling, I pick it up and bring it to my ear.

"Where even are you both?" Mia screams into my ear, making me instinctively pull my phone away from my ear.

I take a peek at my screen and find Eli's name on it, making me roll my eyes.

"Give the phone to his rightful owner Mia," I answer, and I can practically see her scowl through the phone.

After a few seconds of shuffling and another few seconds of screaming, Eli returns to his phone, panting.

The Opposite Of Negation | Editing SlowlyWhere stories live. Discover now