Lisa
I'm obviously losing my mind.
That's the only answer. The only reason I can't stop taking care of this woman who refuses to take care of herself.
I should have left her at the bar. I should have let her find her own way home. I should...
I should stay out of it. I should stop getting close.
It's dangerous, closeness. Leaves too much room for ugly things, like disappointment and heartbreak.
And Jennie, with her honey eyes and gentle smile, might as well be a gun to my head. People like me can't take a chance on... you know.
That ugly four-letter word that I refuse to let enter my thoughts, let alone leave my tongue.
Fixing the pot of tea helps. It takes a minute to turn water into steam, which gives me time to cool down.
Calm, collect, and reassess. Put my armour back on before I go out there, so I can withstand the assault of her sweet eyes and needy kisses.
I fix her an Earl Grey and pour the tea into one of the Bhuwakul family's many novelty mugs. This mug has a cat popping out of the cup, and the cat's tail curls into the handle. I picked it because it seems like something that Jennie would like.
When I walk back into the living room with Jennie's tea and her nauseatingly cute mug, however, she's nowhere to be seen.
At first, I think she must've put herself to bed, until...
Out the window, I see a flicker of movement. I squint. It can't be...
No. It definitely is.
The piece-of-shit barn is finally falling apart. The balcony has half-collapsed, the railing snapped. And... there's Jennie. Hanging from the second-storey balcony, clinging desperately on to what's left of the railing, with her legs flailing.
Goddammit, Jennie.
