The One Night Stand's Proposal ©

Chapter 2: Salt to the wound

Dedicated to forwarderreader for the constant support. ❤

~°~

V a n e s s a

When I got home, I had thirty two missed calls on my phone. All from family and friends who knew of the tragedy. Eventually, when I felt like I was returning to some semblance of normalcy, I would call back and listen to the apologies that had nothing to do with them.

     The first thing I checked as I entered the bedroom was the closet. True to his word, he had removed every article of clothing - everything that he individually owned was gone.  The apartment felt emptier as I stood there in one spot, staring at my reality and missing the memories.

     The bed was neatly spread and if this hadn't happened, in two weeks' time after we'd returned from our honeymoon, it'd greet us yet again. But the bed we had made love in so many times, talked about the kids we planned on having later in life was just a piece of simple furniture and nothing more.

And yet, I still sought comfort as I moved towards it and curled myself into a ball, hugging a pillow while I cried myself to sleep.

.......

The following day I went to work, as usual, thinking that home had too many memories and work would maybe take my mind off things. I owned a little bakery in town and luckily for me, I had decided to be a sole entrepreneur, instead of taking Blake up on his suggestion to join in and invest. It had been all me and I was superbly proud of my striving accomplishment.

I had two highly qualified bakers along with myself and planned on expanding in the coming year.

     I was an hour in at work when I started to realize that the people that came in - those I considered regulars started to look at me differently. The thought of them knowing about my failed engagement didn't strike me, but it became clear when an elderly woman in her 70's approached with a bewildered look on her face.

      "Hi darling, how are you holding up?" she asked, the pitiful expression on her face saddening.

    I hung my head for some seconds, allowing the embarrassment to pass over. "I'm fine, " I finally said and she offered me an uncertain smile.

     "I don't know what I would do with myself if I had a fiance who chickened out at last minute," she shook her head.

   A lump too great to swallow formed in my throat. "Things happen, I guess," I croaked.

     "Sweet girl you're a mess. Look at those sad eyes, take some days off and allow this to pass. It may take a while but someday you'll realize that we can do without people we once thought we couldn't live without," she said and smiled. Somehow, I found small comfort in her words.

     "I remember some years ago when my husband died. I was devastated, I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to eat. But as time went by, I realized I was better off. There was no one to clean up after, I cooked when I wanted and I slept well at nights because he wasn't snoring away beside me," she chuckled. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, life doesn't end here. You're young and beautiful – the world is waiting for you."

She reached out and slightly squeezed my hands with a genuine smile. I nodded and returned her smile, finding comfort in what I had initially thought would bring the opposite.

        "Thank you."

       "Don't mention it. All the best," she winked, took her paper bag filled with pastries, and left.