𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩 𝟖

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As I lifted yet another box, beads of sweat began to form on my forehead

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As I lifted yet another box, beads of sweat began to form on my forehead. I quickly raised my forearm to wipe them away, suddenly feeling the weight of the box in my arms.

The majority of my time this week was spent packing my bedroom's belongings. I haven't stopped in the hopes of finishing it sooner rather than later, but I've seemed to have forgotten how much stuff I actually have. Countless cardboard boxes filled with handbags, shoes, and clothing surround me. That's only half of it.

I exhale, in attempt to prepare myself for the next box, when suddenly my phone pings from the other side of the bedroom. The sound of my shuffling feet echoes through the empty room, before I pick up my phone and plop down on my bed, cross-legged.

A text from Luka, for the fourth time this week. He's been asking to see me a lot, and while I haven't spent much time with him and as guilty as I feel for blowing him off, I'm still trying to adjust and prepare myself for all this, and on top of packing, I don't have much time.

Not to mention, I haven't even told him about the official engagement, let alone the fact that I'm getting married in a few days. I've been intending to tell him everything, but it's still hard, it's not necessarily a casual conversation. It's difficult for the both of us.

I let out a deep sigh as I stare at the text, I feel too guilty to say no again. It's not fair to him to keep brushing him off; after all, I was the one who agreed we could keep dating.

I look up at the progress of my bedroom, cardboard boxes fill the space. Full ones, empty ones, half-finished ones, piles of clothes, and a whole lot of other stuff that should be in boxes. I consider, I should take a break anyways, I've been doing this for like three days straight.

I slip off the bed and into my shoes, before sending him a text to let him know I'm on my way.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

When I eventually arrive, I push the door open and let myself into his complex before heading up the stairs. When I get to the top, I find him seated at his desk with his back to me, typing on his keyboard. I smile before approaching him and kissing the top of his head to greet him.

"Oh hey!" he exclaims as he turns in his chair, his eyes lighting up as he notices me. I cast a glimpse over at his laptop behind him, which appears to be far too stressful and busy for me to understand. "How are things?" I ask, motioning to the screen.

"Difficult," he groans, "but I'm actually getting somewhere with it, and it looks like it's all going to work out." He closes the laptop screen and turns back to me, "So I was thinking, we could go out to dinner, or maybe just a movie if you don't feel up to it—" he offers, as he stands up from his chair and strolls over to the couch.

I let out a sigh as I realise that I really do not have the time, and now I'm forced to need to blow him off once again. There is just a three-day window for me to get everything in order before my father completely loses it on me; he is already frustrated with me as is. "Luka."

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