The Queen's Dilemma

Ch. 2: This Unnecessary Pain

Nathan still glared at her. It was so harsh, she wasn't sure how she hadn't melted from it.

"What?" she groaned.

"Why'd you run away from him?" he asked.

They'd safely come back to her apartment. There hadn't been anything wrong with her car; the truck had barely touched it.

She hadn't looked at the guy until she came up close to him.

Vishnu.

That man had looked so similar to her ex, she'd wanted to cry. They shared the same black hair, similar skin tones, a gangly, tall build and handsome faces.

But his eyes.

Vishnu's were hazel. This man's looked like Rani's, a deep, dark brown.

"He looked like Vishnu. I thought it was him—I—I got scared," she stammered. She started rubbing the scars on her face, a habit that manifested whenever she became nervous.

Nathan's glare immediately turned sympathetic and he mumbled, "Oh—"

"Well, hopefully, I don't run into him again! I'm sure he's not going to forget about that." She forced a weak laugh.

Even as she said this, scenarios running through her head cracked the confidence she had. It was a small town. This wasn't a big city. If she ran away in the city, she could count on not seeing the person again.

"Well, you do you and you'll be fine." He pat her back and got up. "I've got to head back, but I'll come and visit, and you definitely need to come back and visit alright? I'm already starting to miss you."

Her laugh this time was genuine and she hugged him tightly. "I'm already missing you too, parrot man."

After he left, the silence felt exhausting. It nipped at whatever energy she had left, and she eyed the lights of the nearby town square.

Despite the fact that she didn't go out much and loved being at home, being alone wasn't fun. She opened a window to let some fresh air in.

Along with it, smells of fries, meats and something else delicious flowed into her room, leaving her confused.

Just when she was lamenting her lonesomeness, food came by to tempt her to go outside.

Her sweatpants and shirt would be enough. The residual September heat entered the apartment and she quickly shut the window.

This town was a literal Hallmark movie set. It was obvious from how everyone greeted each other, how quaint the little stores and houses were. Greetings tempted her to buy items that she'd only use once and never look at again.

The restaurant tempting her had wide, open doors, with simple paintings and movie posters decorating the walls here and there. It reeked the vibes of an old nineties hangout with modern tables and booths.

As she walked around, trying to navigate her way to the restaurant, people stared at her. Some of them even had the gall to point at her and whisper to the person next to them.

She was used to this. When she'd been slammed by the car, the first thing she'd collided with was a concrete sidewalk. It'd done a great job scraping her and cutting up her neck and face, past the point of healing without marks.

Her scars stood against her skin, which was darkish. At first, it'd bothered her. She'd been insecure before the accident; afterwards, her limp and marks exacerbated her worries. It took months to get used to the weird looks she got. Now, having someone new stare at her neck or her temporal area felt normal.