When A Door Closes, A Window Opens

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The second we get home, I take off my shoes and make my way to the bedroom to put my bag at the end of my bed to undo it later. I hear Steeve in the kitchen and make my way to him, trying to get to the bottom of his good humour because I don't like it. I don't recognise him at all. He has never been so kind and expressive. At least not in a long time.

I walk to the couch in our small living room, and I see him coming my way with two teacups. It gets me frowning as it's also something that surprises me. He doesn't drink tea. He hates it.

"For you, gorgeous." He smiles and sits next to me as he hands me a cup. Gorgeous?!

I take it and get surprised at the cold ceramic. It isn't hot. It isn't tea. It's bubbly.

"Champagne?" I let out and look at him, alarmed because we don't have the luxury to buy things like this.

"It's sparkling wine, but the best for my Princess." I cringe at his words. Princess, really?

He clinks our cups and looks directly at me with the most oblivious smile of everything that has happened this weekend. We both sip the golden liquid, and he instantly gets more comfortable against me, sliding his hand on my thigh.

"We are celebrating tonight. I sold for more than a hundred thousand pounds of machines. You know what this means, baby girl?"

"Big commission?!"

"Oh yeah! I have five per cent. It makes five thousand pounds in one weekend." He seems so proud, and it gets me genuinely excited.

"This is amazing, Stee! Wow! I can't believe it! You must be so happy." I let out, very supportive that he is doing good in his job.

I am so happy for him because he has a big cushion on which to fall when I leave him. He will be able to afford this flat on his own. Maybe he will take this break up all the better. I'm so happy my name does not appear on the lease at all. It gives me the liberty to leave when I want. Marcel has decided that his visit is the right time to do so. He is right. I'll have to work hard tomorrow to get at least one essay done.

"I am. I couldn't wait to tell you. We signed everything this morning, so it is now official. I had the rest of the day to think about our lives and your six-step plan." He says to me is very serious, to a point where it almost scares me.

"Oh my God..." I let out despite myself. No, no, no. I hope he doesn't want to ask me to marry him.

"I knew you would be excited." He smiles widely, clueless.

"Oh yeah?" I nervously laugh, being very uncomfortable, sipping my drink.

"I thought that, with this money and the money of your book, we could start looking for houses nearby. You are finishing College, so maybe we can look for something close to the Museum or something."

I'm torn between feeling panicked and happy. Why hasn't he always been like this? Why is he surprisingly respectful and sensitive so suddenly? Either way, I'm overwhelmed. I know I shouldn't be happy because of everything he made me through, but he tells me everything I ever wanted to hear. It proves to me he cares, but to what extent.

I come back to my senses. I need to say something to get me out of this mess. It doesn't make sense. Before London, these words were all I was living for, but it isn't what I want anymore. Well, I still do, but not with him. I want to be challenged. I want to be with my best friend. I want to be free to be who I am and not struggle with this constant bullying. I don't know how he has a way to make me forget everything he has ever done wrong to me.

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