40. Making Friends

Laura - The house in the suburbs

The first rays of the sun find me on the floor, staring at the ceiling. The carpet is fluffy and has the typical scent of old things. I can’t imagine how hard it was for Paul to find all these things for the house. But I guess he simply delegated someone to do it for him.

I stand and look around. No, that’s not it. Everything falls into place in a natural, human-like way, not as a designer would envision it. Somehow, I bet he had personally overseen the renovation.

My eyes stop over the backrest of the chair in the corner. Paul’s jacket is leisurely draped over it, a reminder that he was here last night. How can a person be both warm and cold at the same time? Do I have the strength to want to find out?

The jacket compels me to go at it. At first, I just brush the soft material with my fingertips, not wanting to wrinkle it. But why would I care about a damn jacket that he left behind? I yank it from the chair and crawl onto the couch with it in my arms