Promises | ✔️

Chapter 1: New Life

"I do." Before the applause and cheers got louder, I turned off my phone. I couldn't believe it. I had just watched the live stream of the man who ruined my life, the man who took away the people I loved most, the man who broke me, get married. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve that kind of happiness.

Marcus Fahl. Millionaire. At just the age of 19, he had successfully started his own business, and 5 years later, he had his very own empire. Nearly every state on the east coast had at least one Fahl hotel. The man even had his own liquor brand. Now, at the age of 53, he married his 3rd wife. However, everyone knew he had an illegal business underground. Fahl couldn't be caught, though, because he was very good at hiding and had international connections.

I dropped my phone in my lap and looked outside the car window. It had been 7 months and 26 days since the "accident." After losing my family, I had dropped out of college and was taken to a mental health facility in DC because I had severe depression and almost attempted to take my life. It was a dark time, and I still think about it every night. I was released last week and decided it would be best to leave the area. 

Now I was back in New York, my home state. I had a decent amount of money left for me, but not enough to go back to college, so I had to look for a job.

"We're here ma'am." The taxi driver said while pulling up in front of the sidewalk. The apartment building was a dull, faded red color. There were about 5 or 6 floors, each apartment had a small balcony in the front, with a black railing and a fire escape. It wasn't the nicest home, but it was what I could afford with the money I had. I used to live on the other side of town, with middle-class suburban homes. My parents used to make me promise that I never come to this side of town, but they also promised that they would never leave me. I guess we all broke our promises.

I paid the man and took my suitcases out of the trunk. I walked up the steps to the front door and opened it. I had been instructed to go to apartment 103, the landlord's, to get my apartment key. I knocked on the door and after a few seconds, the door was opened. A man, maybe in his early 50s stood, there. He had a thick, grey beard, and was in a white undershirt and faded blue jeans. The older man was also smoking. I heard the TV in the background and dogs barking.

"What do you want?" He grunted while blowing smoke out of his mouth.

I stuttered. "I-I'm the new tenant. Apartment 212."

"Oh. Here." He grabbed a pair of keys from the wall and shoved them in my hands. "Sometimes the power goes out at night because of city budget cuts. And no pets."

"Wait, but don't you have-" I pointed behind him, but he shut the door on me before I could finish. I shook it off and headed to the stairs. I had 2 suitcases and 1 duffel bag, so I would have to come back down again to get them.

I made my way up to the second floor. As I got up from the last step, a child came running from the apartment to the right. I nearly ran him over and abruptly stopped. A middle-aged woman came out of the same apartment, holding a rolling pin. She was wearing an apron that was coated with flour, and her hair was up in a bun. She had very few gray hairs, her hair mostly being brown. I could see dark circles under her eyes, and wrinkles on her forehead clearly from stress, as she wasn't very old. Although she looked very tired, she was actually very pretty.

"Oh! I am so sorry! That was my son." She said to me.

"It's fine. Really." I assured her.

"Henry, go back inside." The woman sternly looked at the little boy and pointed inside. Henry ran back inside the house. She turned to me again. "I've never seen you here before. Are you moving in?" She smiled.