Twenty One.

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New York City.

It was funny how I always found myself back at this place no matter what. The good thing was, this time it wasn't so scary. Knowing that Randy had been out away made me feel at ease.

My taxi dropped me off at Ms Jones' house and I wheeled my suitcase to the door where I knocked. I knew she was at work but I'd only hoped to find her here.

I got her key out from beneath the flowerpot on the left-hand side of her door and I let myself in.

I hadn't been here in ages. Ms Jones was fond of her antiques-- most of them from England-- and her old decor. She had this peach glow in the living room from the sun shining through her peach coloured curtains. Her white floral printed couch had a red throw folded nearly over an arm rest, her old wooden trunk-turned-coffee-table had some old magazines on it, and an empty tea cup, and the big old clock standing near the tv stand tick-tocked loud enough to keep me from overthinking anything until Ms Jones returned.

I wheeled my suitcase down to the guest bedroom which Ms Jones had told me she'd set up for me, and I left it near the nearly made bed. The room was small and the bed looked old but that didn't matter. All I came for was some peace of mind and I trusted I'd get that here.

Sitting on the bed, I sent Justin a text to let him know I'm arrived safely. That was the least I could do, especially since he'd been so upset about my departure.

Was I crazy to leave him again? I didn't think so. It hurt being around him, knowing he hated me, and it confused me why he refused to let me go. Did he want me suffering for what happened? Because I felt I was suffering-- being punished by him-- in his house.

I decided on a nap before cleaning up a little to pass the time. Maybe I'd make dinner too, if I found the strength.

Ms Jones returned as I was doing the dishes. She was happy to see me, as I was to see her, but I hadn't expected to cry at the sight of her.

"Oh, dear," she hugged me tight and pecked my cheek, staining it with her lipstick, no doubt.

"I missed you so much, Ms Jones," I cried into her shoulder.

"It's alright, dear. I'm right here," she said to me.

I took a step back upon pulling away from the hug and I dried my tears.

"Aw, look at you," Ms Jones frowned. "Dileah, what happened?"

I took a deep breath and fiddled with the sleeves of my sweater, too embarrassed to even look Ms Jones in the face.

"Dileah, dear?" Her hand rested on my arm.

"He hates me," I choked on my emotions and took a shaky breath.

"Who? Justin?"

I nodded my head and dried my tears again.

"Okay, come sit down. Let me make you some tea, alright?" Ms Jones took my hand and led me to get living room.

When I sat down, she turned on her heating system then went back to the kitchen to make us both some tea.

"Okay," she soon say beside me and handed me my cup of tea on a saucer, "start at the beginning, dear. Tell me what's got you so upset."

I told Ms Jones about Justin agreeing to try and me agreeing to be patient with him while he found himself in our relationship. Then I told her about our date on the boat and the prawns and about the following day at the home-- the cramps, the trip to the hospital, and finally...

"The doctor said I had a miscarriage," I whispered and looked sadly at Ms Jones.

"Oh my," she frowned deeply. "Dileah, I am so sorry to hear that."

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