I don't belong to you

Chapter 8

Spencer's POV

It had been a week. I hadn't heard from him... not a single word. I wasn't sure if I should try going to the hospital. I just wanted to know how he was feeling. Was he mad at me? Would he be happy to see me? Was he just so busy he didn't know when to reach me? Plus he didn't have my number or anything... I just felt stupid going there again, especially with how we left it.

"There you are," I heard a familiar voice next to me.

"Huh?" I snapped my head up to see him sitting on the park bench next to me. "How'd you know I was here?"

"Because you haven't changed in all the years that I've known you," he smiled at me. "You always come to quiet parks when something's bothering you. Of course I didn't know which one you'd be at. I've been searching every damn park in the last four days in the area," he laughed at himself.

"I've been waiting for you," I said seriously.

"I know," he sighed. "I'm sorry about last week."

"We keep telling each other sorry," I picked at the threads on my sleeve. "When will we stop?"

"I just don't know what to do..." he breathed. "Come and walk with me." He stood up and reached his hand out for mine. I grabbed it as he helped me up. Normally I would let go after that, but we walked hand in hand down the trails.

"Do you have the day off today?" I asked noticing him in normal clothes.

"Yeah," he nodded. "You want to know something crazy?"

"Sure," I smiled at him.

"I've been to at least eleven or twelve parks looking for you and all along you were at the one in my backyard."

I looked around, "You live here?"

"Yeah," he pointed to the enormous house in front of us. "We moved in together a couple months before your accident. You picked the house."

"Wow," I felt like I couldn't catch my breath. "It's like somewhere deep down I knew," I looked at him. "Where I live now is like twenty miles from here. I picked this park because... It was the quietest and the most beautiful."

"That's one of the main reasons you picked the house... You loved the park," he smiled at me. We kept walking towards the house. I could see why I picked it. It was beautiful and it looked a little older but still brand new at the same time.

"Was it hard living here when I was gone?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah, but everything was hard. I actually had to switch mattresses. Because it smelt like you, and I loved that. But the more I slept in it, it started to smell more like me. So I moved it into the guest room. Sometimes I would go lay in it, when I forgot how you smelt, just to remind myself that you existed once."

I was tearing up just listening to him talk about me like that.

He looked at me, "Oh I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you upset!"

I shook my head, "It's a beautiful story."

"It's not a story," he said turning to face me. "It's very much my reality."

"Can we go inside?" I asked curious.

He looked at his house hesitating for a moment. "Not today," he mumbled. "I'm sorry it's just a mess, and I want it to be perfect when you see it."

"Ok," I kind of felt rejected. But I didn't want to press it any further.

"You want to go out tonight?" He blurted out.