Always, Arlo [Published]

Chapter 3

Overdose

I recommend listening to Flatline - Justin Bieber
when reading this chapter lol.

Misery. It's a overwhelming sensation of feeling blatant suffering. Feeling a void in your heart when you should feel warmth. A loneliness eating at you even when you're a accompanied by others.

I sit in Marlin's apartment on the cold, white, leather couch. I picked this out for him when he was too busy to decorate this place. Half the apartment is tidy and looks the way it does because of me.

I stare out the overview window, showcasing the beautiful city of New York. Lights lit up and the city is lively despite the hour.

2:30 AM on a Friday night.

It's been weeks since I've seen Arlo in that greenhouse. Weeks since i've talked to Marlin. Weeks avoiding the truth. I've been avoiding marlin and declining all his calls like the plague. I've been needing time to figure out what is best for me to do.

But Arlo's words replay in my head over and over profoundly. It still feels like a knife is plunged into my heart waiting for me to finally get it unstuck. Waiting for the paramedics to come save me.

I hold a framed photo of Marlin and I in our teens. When everything was perfect, when my heart was so full of joy, I felt like I was going to pop from excitement.

Going to bed at night happily and excited to wake up the next morning to find what the day had in store for me,  for us.

Everything was how it was supposed to be.

Now I go to bed wondering where it all went wrong. Laying my bed on my pillow as the tears soak up the fabrics. The other side of the bed empty, because Marlin prefers everywhere but near me.

The front door creeks open and I immediately know who it is. His heavy footsteps walk towards the closet area to take his shoes off, a small routine he's kept since having this apartment.

I don't have to turn to know he's made his way to the guest bathroom to wash his hands and refresh himself before properly allowing himself into the kitchen.

The sound of the fridge opening and closing again without missing a beat indicates he's hungry and waiting for me to say how i've saved him food, like i've always done.

When I stay silent, a slight open and close again repeats in the fridge. He's trying to get my attention, I can tell. But my body is still in place, staring at the photo-frame.

"Valentina?" He says after a minute, he says it questioningly. Confusion ringing in his tone.

I take a deep breath, obviously still deep in thought and consideration. This decision seems like the hardest step for me when its an easy doing for others.

"Val? Did you forget to make the food?" He says, the opposite words coming out of his mouth than I expected. He's more worried about his food than anything else.