The Love Affair

Chapter Two

Nick called later that evening and I wasn't entirely too fussed that it had taken him a while to alert me towards his safe travels. I was intently somewhat too involved with the fella next door and by that I meant I couldn't stop fantasising about him as if suddenly he was my addiction to chocolate. Make no lies, I had been watching him from the front bay window discreetly, my eyes peering over the hardback book cuddled in my hands. He'd been moving in boxes the rest of that late afternoon until around seven when he handled over some cash towards the men who he had hired the grey van off for moving his stuff. It didn't make sense. I couldn't understand why the sudden interest had caused me to sit and watch him carry boxes to and from for those three hours. I was beginning to question my insanity.

"Rose, everything okay? How did today go? Any progress?" Nick asked, startling me at the sound of his voice echoing through my eardrum. I had forgotten he was there for a second, how he had drilled me with his apologises, his explanation on the trip before pitch-forking me now with countless questions.

"Err, not really, no. I just can't seem to write a single word at the moment," I replied, sinking into the couch as I swirled the wine glass between my lap. It was ten and already I had my pyjamas, comfy blue bed socks and nightgown on. Outside was a little chilly which was expected for Autumn, with the falling of leaves and nippy winds, and I was sitting inside the conservatory which sometimes could be cooler than the rest of the house.

"Ah, I'm sure you'll find inspiration somewhere, babe. It just takes time. Heck, I don't think I know any author—well, I don't know any other author," he joked, "but, nobody can make a story up just over night." I couldn't lie that Nick's attempts at comforting me were admirable and I knew it wasn't dishonest. He'd been my number one supporter since forever. It was true, at the age of twenty I had married my teenage love. Nick was already had a career in his apprenticeship that by the time, I'd left University, I was a full time author and he was working as a financial director within the company. He'd been there when I had the call, he'd been there when I sent the manuscript off and he'd always came to my events. At the moment, his efforts to attend were becoming tardy.

"I know. I just hope I can think of something soon as I feel at a lost at the moment. I just would have also liked it if you came to that small convention tomorrow, Nick. I know work is...hard but I need---"

"---Babe, I know. I promise I'll make it up to you," he cut me off, "Anyway, I know you'll do great anyway. I love you, you know, that right?" I squeezed the phone within my hand closing my eyes holding those words.

"I love you too," I muttered, feeling empty as they left my lips, "Nick---"

---"Ah, shit. I gotta go. Someone's at the door. Must be staff or something. I'll call you tomorrow, baby, and I'll be back before you know it," he interjected, ending the call soon after. I sighed taking a massive swallow of wine feeling its slick kiss slide down the back of my throat. I wasn't even that mad he'd ended the call for whatever emergency he had. I didn't even feel that fussed that I wouldn't get to hold, kiss or see him till Wednesday. At that point, I didn't feel anything. I felt no loneliness either as I crept into my bed later that night, my side dipping and his remaining absent. What was wrong with me?

***

The small had gone as planned. It was a small gathering of up and coming amateur writers looking to improve themselves from discussion with myself and other two authors who'd attended as the panel. It had been held in the city, meaning I had to be victim to the endless congestion, so I didn't return home to about four. Angie had planned for us to meet at eight downtown, so I wanted to at least look presentable, and attempt to write something if I could.