Easing Heimweh (Heim, #1) ✓

11: Rain

I flew back to the Philippines the next morning with Cali. We used her private jet to escape the prying eyes of the public, and though I doubted it would work, we left the country with no complications.

There was so little time for goodbyes.

"I don't know when I'll see you again," I admitted as she and I waited for a cab. "I promise I'll call."

"Gosh, Captain, you worry too much." Cali held my shoulders, laughing as she pulled me in a tight hug. "How about you promise me something else?"

I buried my face into her collar. "What is it?"

"Don't leave this place with regrets."

I couldn't respond with emotions running high so suddenly, so I just hugged her tighter. Cali seemed to have understood what I meant to say, because she was smiling wide as we pulled away.

"Take care, hm?"

I nodded, clutching the handle of my suitcase as the beat of my heart ran faster than before. "I will."

My cab arrived at the all too familiar street I got lost in myriads of moments ago. Perhaps it was what made me get out to get to Oasis by foot instead—the nostalgia. The promise of another time to breathe because I was here.

I entered the café filled with anticipation, the bundle of nerves refusing to dissipate even after meeting Harmony and Miguel again. I barely returned the warm greetings as I headed straight to the freedom wall, holding my breath for some stupid reason.

There was no new note. Nothing.

Thoughts rushed in, ones I hated to encounter and endure.

What if there was nothing else to return to after all? What if Cagayan was only a fever dream, a fictional escape from reality that slipped away from my iron grip because I chose to leave?

What if there was no place for me here?

"A-Are you okay, Ma'am?" Harmony asked as she approached me, a glass of lemonade in hand. "You could use a drink."

I took the lemonade, though it almost fell to the floor as my hands were apparently too weak to function. The waitress placed it on the table instead, then stood beside me in silence.

"It's on the house," Miguel commented. I lifted my head and watched while he wiped one of the espresso machines. "The chef's out until next week. Only beverages are available until then."

"I should pay for this one."

He dropped the towel, gaze landing on me. "Nah. Consider it our treat. You look..."

"Tired?" I finished the sentence after his hesitation. "I'm fine."

"Still." Miguel eyed the lemonade. "Our treat."

"Okay."

I stayed there for the better part of the afternoon. Every ice cube melted away, and the drink had gone bland, but I couldn't finish the whole thing, nor did my thoughts disappear. They stayed despite my silent efforts of pushing them away.

Harmony and Miguel didn't want me to go so soon. Apparently I looked too exhausted to walk to the hotel and they were afraid I'd pass out somewhere. Of course, I did all but listen.

And I should have listened. I realized it too late because light rain began pouring down when I was already five blocks away from Oasis.

I sought shelter but couldn't find one—no stalls, no buildings with large roofs, no cab to ride on. The street was barren; I was the only person here, left stranded in the cold. I shivered as small droplets of water met my skin, and I couldn't stop the hot tears from falling.

It was so cold, and I was so lonely.

I wasn't supposed to be feeling like this. I'd finally left the hell they called home, but I was here breaking down when I should be celebrating my freedom.

But why was I feeling anything but free? Why was I still lonely?

Why was everything so, so cold and cruel?

Back home, I didn't have to worry about being drenched in the rain. I had the luxury of relying on others, getting the help and comfort I needed, and ending the day without the fear of being left alone because I wasn't. I was cursed with a cruel father who gave me a name that allowed for no imperfections, a family tainted with everything I didn't want to become, and a place they called home but never felt like one, but I wasn't alone. I never was. I never thought I would be now.

And so I walked. I walked despite the tears blocking my view of the road. The rain went on until Myriad was only a few feet away. I dragged my heavy suitcase against the asphalt, feeling utterly pathetic and defeated. My eyelids fluttered shut and I took a deep breath, afraid that I might cry again.

I felt as if the gray skies were mocking me when the rain abruptly stopped. I opened my eyes, confusion stirring within me as I was met by darkness.

No. This couldn't be right. It was still raining. It was still cold.

"Alon," he called.

Aelius took a step closer, and I fought the urge to reach for his face—an attempt to make sense of what was before me. I caught his hand clenching around the umbrella's handle as we sought shelter beneath it. The soft patter of rain translated to music with no rhythm. I tuned out of it. I tuned out of everything, actually. I could only hear him saying my name as it played in my head on repeat.

"Y-You're here," I stammered, hands shaking and cold and wet, yet he didn't hesitate to hold my free one.

"I am."

Maybe it was the umbrella, or the rain that slowly died down.

The afternoon wasn't so cold anymore.