The Last We Fell

15. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔊𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔡𝔢

I am a tad bit envious. I'm envious of Prim for having such a caring brother, of Adam for having something precious to protect and defend. I can also name a thousand other things I'm always a bit jealous I don't have. I am surrounded by people who all seem to have reasons to fight for and go forward. Then there is me. 

I often lose myself in a spiral of thoughts wondering what I possibly have to offer. If my time is worth it for other people. If any of what I do or say or aspire for matters at the end of the day. I don't particularly like to live in delusion. In fact, I think I've been entirely disillusioned with my life for a very long time now. I wonder if things would have been different if I was born to a different reality. What kind of person would I turn out to be if I had all I lacked growing up?

The truth is I have nothing to gain from helping Primrose and Adam O'Connor fix their relationship. I don't do it for moral duty or some ulterior motive. Maybe I do it out of a lack of meaning in my own life. What I should have towards Prim are a caretaker's feelings of duty toward their patient, the kind of sympathies that stop when the clock signals the end of my shift. Prim thinks she won my heart over but perhaps it's the other way around. Through her, I could find hints of familial responsibility, like the kind of sister I wish I had. She made me feel and remember things I never thought I'd care to recall. It probably should be me thanking her for filling some yawning void inside of me. That she reminded me how my life isn't as pointless or vain as I thought it to be. 

Right now, she would be talking to her brother. They'd argue, maybe she'd yell at him and cry but they'll eventually make up. She will learn to rely on him bit by bit and because he's family, they'll be closer than ever. It's childish to admit that it makes me sad I will no longer be needed- or not needed as much. I laughed bitterly at my own thoughts, shaking my head. 

"Young miss, are you okay?" I looked up to find an old man in a beige frock looking kindly at me. It was the confectioner. "You have been staring at the chocolate roses for quite some time now. Do you like them that much?"

I smiled apologetically, afraid he was thinking I'm some kind of thief or suspicious person. "I'm sorry. I promise I'm not-

He cut me off, laughing heartily. He had foreign features, the kind you don't see much of in this town. "Ah don't misunderstand me, I wasn't doubting your character, just making an observation." He smiled knowingly. He had the aura of a grandfather who knew all your secret thoughts. It almost made me blush in embarassement. I was about to excuse myself and leave when his voice stopped me. "Hold on, take this."

I looked up at him, then at the little plastic box with a chocolate rose within. I raised my hands. "I- no, please. I can't take this."

"It's bad manners to refuse a gift when it's offered." He jested. "Since you admired it so much, why don't you have it?"

I couldn't bring myself to accept it. It was afterall expensive and he must have put a lot of effort and time making it. I searched for my card, ready to pay when he gave me a stern gaze. "Tsk, don't be like that. Put it away. I wouldn't have offered if I wanted your money."

"Why then?" I hesitantly took the little box in my hand, staring at the delicately made rose.

The stranger smiled. "Because everyone loves chocolate, and it made you forget about whatever it is you were so intensely thinking about. Didn't it?"

"I." I simply stared speechlessly at the man. It did steer my head in a different direction from my previous thoughts but still, why would a complete stranger do this? "Thank you."

He smiled approvingly. "Young miss, would you care to hear a word from this old man?"

I nodded quickly, blood rushing to my face. "You're not that old. You don't look a day over forty."