The Coldest Summer✓

Thirty-eight

The plane finally lands at Los Angeles after two hours of a restless flight.

I wrap my cardigan tightly on my chest as I head to the baggage claim, my skin easily succumbing to a strange cold despite the Californian sun that regards me rather harshly. I take my bags and storm out, so desperate to be home.

"Where to?" asks the driver of the first taxi I came across.

"Venice," I utter.

My head feels heavy and I can't stop thinking of everything that has happened on this trip. I try to ignore the ache in my heart but the memories are still intact in my heart and soul, taking me back to Montana, and then to Miami, and my heart stirs again.

Photograph by Ed Sheeran starts playing in the car, urging my eyes to shut as if the radio is mocking me. And Liam occupies my mind until I reach home. How will my life be now that I'm back to where I belong? Will things remain the same as before?

I do nothing for the next two days other than thinking, crying at times, and sleeping. Eating as properly as I should has become a difficult endeavor, and I find solace in disconnecting from the world at the moment. My phone has been off but I believe I need to snap out of this.

So today I decide to push myself out of this confinement I call my house, as it's twelve in the afternoon and my life needs to go on. I stretch up and yawn, not sure where to begin if my whole body feels heavy and weak. I get up and stretch the curtains apart, letting the sunlight in.

Everything around is in a big mess, and I'm out of anything edible. I exhale heavily, holding the door of my refrigerator that stares back at me gloomily. All I see is a bottle of water and a container of Greek yogurt. I need to do grocery shopping.

"You can't be a total loser, Kira Jones," I murmur to myself. "You can do this." I sigh and veer back to my bedroom.

Honestly, I really want to regain control of my life but things keep throwing me off the cliff. I kept dreaming of my past for two nights, consecutively. It's as if the pieces are trying to fit together as I had a further recollection of the accident scene.

I discerned that other than my family there was a woman riding with us, together with her son. But I can't clearly recall. Exhausted, I slowly lay down on the couch, thinking of the mystery. I wonder if there's something important to remember that keeps replaying over and over again.

Maybe I've been missing something important.

I spend the rest of the day on the couch, watching whatever that crosses my eyes, my mind miles away. I try hard to forget about the trip and all the events, but my efforts are incessantly in vain. Everything haunts me, taking me back in time, urging me to think of nothing but him.

Only him.

The following day I get up at the sunshine piercing through the window that I accidentally forgot to shut last night. The TV is still on as I hear the 'Good morning Hollywood' show ending, and I think I need to face the music.

However, before I can do anything, I hear a knock at the door. It's a bit startling given that I haven't told anyone of my arrival. Who could it be? I quickly put on a sleeping robe over my tiny nightdress and go see who's at my doorstep.

When I ask, it's my neighbor's voice that responds.

I slide the door wider and say, "Amelia. How are you?"

Her chubby cheeks puff up as she smiles at me, looking as charming as ever. "I'm okay," she replies, but her sass wears off immediately. "Although I can't say the same thing about you. Didn't you have a nice vacation?" Her gaze intensifies as she studies me keenly.