Act of love

Chapter Thirteen

Anfisa:

Saturday 5 December 2021
Dear God,

How do I even keep up with everything that is going on. Life is moving way too fast currently, Dalton is dead for just two weeks and I'm flirting around with another man, I can't help but feel guilty. Because I know that Zachary is exactly my type. They're a lot alike, Zachary just seems to be a bit tougher, and definitely more aggressive God. Zach fought more in the two weeks that I know him than Dalton did in the three years I knew him.

I can't wrap my mind around what is happening to me right now, sometimes it feels like I am totally losing myself. The other time I feel the happiest on the entire planet, these moments are usually when I am calling Zachary.

The truth is God, day and night I am terrified of seeing my dad. I know he isn't dead, I saw him twice and he is following me. Sometimes he shows up and then magically disappears. I don't know what he wants from me, why doesn't he just go back to his wife? Why does he have to scare the crap out of me? Why does he randomly return to life? Why did he pretend to be dead? God please, I can't live any longer without answers.

I rest the book on the table next to the couch. I can't live any longer without answers. What does that even mean? Did suicide seriously cross my mind again? For a split second. I lift up my head and look around the room once more. I've done that many times during writing. I can almost describe the entire apartment in detail, while blindfolded.
Bright white walls, not a small apartment at all. Zach isn't the type who likes decoration. There is a large Italian flag above the fireplace. The flag of my favorite country ever. Every time I look at it a smile appears. Maybe Zach is partly Italian.
"What are you writing?" Zach enters the room with a cup of coffee in his hands to warm his hands.
Yes, I got forced to go home with Zach by my sister and her husband. I didn't have the feeling that Zach minded, and to be honest, being alone in these times isn't the best for me. So I try to see it positively and have the best time with him.
"Nothing important." A grin forms on his pale face, his cheeks still red from the winter cold.
"Come on tell me."
He sets the coffee cup on the table close to my diary and reaches for it. Angrily I slap his hand away, and with the force of my hand, I also knock over his burning hot coffee. Spilling it not only all over my hand but also a bit over my diary.
"Fuck fuck fuck." I repeat a million times.
Without saying a word or even asking if I'm okay Zach walks away rapidly to the kitchen.
Moments later Zach returns with a pack of frozen peas in his hands. Thank God he didn't just walk away and leave me to suffer on my own.
"I'm sorry I didn't have anything else." Giving me a grin he puts the ice on my hand.
"Are you okay?" He says gazing into my teary eyes. I'm not crying because I'm sad over the stupid diary, I'm crying because my hand stings like hell.
"I'll be okay."
"I know you will." The gaze between us breaks as his eyes move away to my hand. It looks red and a bit swollen.
His lips reach for my hands as he gently presses a kiss on my knuckles. A pinkish color forms on my cheeks, which I try to hide by looking away.
"I'll put your diary to dry." Zach walks away with my diary in his hands, I watch him until he enters the laundry room and closes the door behind him.