It all starts with goodbye

Chapter 5

I don't know how long I slept, but it was dark again when I woke up. Carrie was sitting at the table surrounded by papers, writing on one of the sheets.

"Making plans?"

"Oh, hello again, John." She looked up from the paper in her hand and smiled when she saw me awake. "Are you hungry?"

"I am starving."

"I was hoping you would say that. I like to cook when I'm nervous or whenever I'm sad. So I cooked a lot today; there is enough food to feed an entire army. I'll warm it for you."

She disappeared through the door of what I believe was the kitchen.

I was in a large room, which served as a bedroom, with a narrow but comfortable bed, a light table, and also a living room with a sofa and a small table with four chairs. From where I was, I could see the bathroom in the living room.

The sight of the bathroom made me think that I needed to use it.

I sat on the bed, ignoring the sharp pain in my shoulder and leg, just to remind myself that I was naked.

"Carrie? Although I'm really hungry, I have another more urgent need."

In less than five seconds, she was beside me with her expression closed.

"What happened? Did you bleed again? Is your head hurting? Let me see the wound in your head."

"Actually, I need to use the bathroom."

"Oh, that. Sure. I'll help you; put your right arm around my shoulder, and..."

"I appreciate the help, but could you give me my clothes first? I mean, it's not that I don't like being naked around pretty girls, but I prefer it to be in more favorable circumstances."

I thought she would blush with my comment, but she just burst out laughing.

"I'm sure you do. I can sense a Casanova vibe coming from you. I washed your clothes because they had blood all over, but to be honest, there are also holes in it." Carrie knelt on the floor and dragged a small suitcase from under the bed. "This shack belonged to my grandfather. He used to come here a lot, so he always kept a suitcase with clothes in here. I don't know if they are the clothes that a Casanova would wear, but they should fit well. He was tall just like you."

Carrie opened the suitcase and carefully removed some clothes.

These clothes probably were not stored for a long time because when she handed them to me, they smelled clean.

"I will...yes... I will go back to the kitchen while you change." I saw her chin trembling. I could have no memory, but I still knew how to recognize someone close to tears. I held my hand out to her. Carrie blinked, trying to wipe away the tears, but grabbed my hand before kneeling by the bed.

Her shoulders shook as tears flowed. She had her forehead pressed against my hand, and I used my free hand to caress her hair.

I didn't say anything, because there are times when we just want to take whatever drowns us out of the chest.

"Sorry. You need to use the bathroom, and I'm here, crying," she said after what seemed like a few minutes.

"It's okay. If I didn't die with two shots, I won't die from holding my pee for two more minutes."

"You are fun." She wiped her face and stood up, trying to smile.

"You know, it's okay to cry."

"Yes, but this was some ugly cry."