lonely heart || cth [slowly written]

Chapter 24.

Cigarette smoke irritated my nostrils. I waved my hand in front of my face to dispel some white smelly smoke.

My aunt didn't usually smoke, she used to do it, but she decided to quit for the sake of her health - not because my grandmother had been pushing her for several years. However, in stressful situations, she sometimes smoked.

Ruth held her hand with cigarette out of the open window and tried to blow the smoke from her mouth in that direction, but the gusts of wind bringed half the smoke back inside the car.

The day was cloudy and quite cold. It was winter in Australia. Maybe it was 19 degrees Celsius. Dressed in long tight pants and a sweater, I still felt the chills crawling through my body. I pulled the sleeves of the sweater over my hands, rounding my shoulders as if I wanted to curl up, preventing the heat from leaving my body any further.

Ruth tapped her fingers on the steering wheels, nervously looking around but being focused on the road. She took another drag on her cigarette and then threw away the filter itself, closing the window tightly.

After I almost got away from Calum's I decided after that evening that I couldn't leave it like that. So the next morning I booked the next flight from LA to Sydney. The mention of my mother awakened something in me that kept telling me that I should come home and finally say goodbye to her over her grave and meet with estate agent to sell the house.

I wasn't sure if it would do the trick, if I would feel better after it or if it would help to close a chapter that - without knowing why - was still open and I kept writing it further. But I had to try at least.

Fortunately for me, I had a flight the same day in the evening. I spent the night at Ruth's, not wanting to go to the house, for fear that I would feel something sentimental and change my mind. But I didn't want to be alone either. On a daily basis, loneliness did not bother me, but now I felt that I needed help and company. Maybe I was afraid to see my mother's spirit blame me for what happened, or rather not being around when she needed it. I don't know why, but I wanted to feel guilty just to say to myself "You had a good reason not to be with her"

Despite the overwhelming emotions, I was glad to be here. I spent the evening with Ruth, emptying the bottle of rosé wine in the process, talking about past few mounths. And I must happily admit that we got closer to each other again. I felt our bond slowly begin to rebuild. Apart from her and my grandmother, I had no other family. Maybe they weren't a family that I always dreamed about, but still - and it's good to be on good terms with family.

And here we have come to the present moment. I'm going with Ruth to the cemetery where my mother is buried. In the afternoon we are supposed to meet the agent at my mother's house - mine - and after that we were supposed to go out for dinner at Grandma's. I missed her so I was looking forward to visit her.

When my aunt parked in front of the cemetery, we got out of the car in no hurry. Opening the back door, I grabbed my bag from the seat. Ruth locked the car. We started going arm in arm to where my mother rested.

The wind raged, blowing my long dark hair in all directions. I remembered about the hair rubber I always had hidden somewhere in my bag. Without pausing, I began searching the large bag for a small item. Digging my hand inside, I felt the phone vibrate, but I ignored it as my fingertips found the hair rubber.

In one move, I tied my hair in a low bun and felt a gust of wind on my face instead of wisps of hair.

I reached into my bag again, taking out the phone and immediately unlocking it. On the lock screen - apart from an hour - there was one notification or rather a message. Typing the pin code I immediately entered the conversation reading two messages.