The Turning Point

CHAPTER TWO- MEMORIES

Heloyse

It was almost three-thirty in the afternoon, and I was running. Fleeing! The rain fell, painfully cold against my skin, and I was starting to lose my breath.

"Breathe! Breathe!"

Feeling the icy rain trickle down my skin was the only proof that I was still alive. Gasping for air, I rested my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

Saying goodbye was the hardest part. But now, he was settled, he had a family… and me? I was bitterly wounded. And yet, the memories remained, relentless, making it impossible not to think about them.

Michael had always been an undeniably charming man. Handsome, too. Tall, with a perfectly groomed goatee, well-defined lips, neatly styled dark hair, and those light brown eyes—almost golden—standing out against his deep brown skin. His easygoing humor, combined with his looks, made him utterly irresistible.

We had the best times together. We had plans. We had each other.

My parents owned a catering business that kept growing, but after my brother died, I couldn’t stay in their house anymore. The weight of grief made the atmosphere unbearable.

Marcus was missed. His absence was one of the many goodbyes I had to say. He died at thirty-three in a motorcycle accident. He was drunk.

Only God knows the pain we felt. Only He knows how much it affected me.

My father was the first to suggest that I leave, that I look for new experiences. Deep down, I knew he wanted to protect me from that suffocating grief.

And so, once again, I said goodbye.

I left California and moved to Boston to stay with my mother’s aunt and uncle for a while. My father gave me a generous amount of money—enough to start fresh. As soon as I could, I moved out of my great-aunt and uncle’s house and bought a place of my own. It wasn’t new, but it was comfortable. A real home. A great investment, considering the neighborhood was peaceful and close to downtown.

I got a job at a perfume store in the mall, and with the leftover money from buying the house, I bought a used car. Three years later, I became the store manager. But time passed, the store closed, and I was laid off.

So, I finished renovating my house, expanded the space, and opened a café.

Since I was little, I had watched my mother bake cakes and sweets for orders. I missed that time, and she became my inspiration.

Soon, kids coming out of school would stop by for the cupcakes I baked. We had cakes, pies, coffee, cappuccinos, tea, and so much more. It was a dream come true. And Michael was by my side, supporting me, helping me with everything.

We met shortly after I started working at the perfume store—about four months after I was hired.

I remember that day so well.

While I was closing the register, I noticed that one of the salesgirls had left her wallet on the counter. I checked to make sure everything was intact and left for lunch, taking the wallet to return it to her. After finding her and handing it over, I headed to the restaurant where I usually ate. That’s when someone bumped into me, spilling coffee all over my uniform.

The shock was immediate, but luckily, the coffee wasn’t that hot.

Michael, flustered, handed me napkins, trying to minimize the mess. And despite my frustration, I found myself smiling when he started flirting with me. He gave me the address of his workplace and asked me to bring him the dry-cleaning bill.

That day was strange. I couldn’t get him out of my head that night.

Three days later, I went to his office and handed him the bill. I could’ve easily paid for it myself, but the truth was, I needed to see him.

When Michael saw me, his smile was so wide that it was impossible not to smile back. We had lunch together that very day.

We talked about his life. He was a real estate agent, an only child, and had lost both his parents. He spoke about the loneliness he felt, how his relatives lived far away and barely kept in touch. His father had died from a sudden heart attack, and a year later, his mother suffered an aneurysm.

He knew all too well what it meant to say goodbye.

From that day on, we had lunch together every day. We got used to each other. We started seeing each other all the time, going out together… and then, we belonged to each other. I gave myself to Michael—body and heart.

After a year of dating, I received the worst news of my life: my parents had died in a plane crash.

Once again, I had to say goodbye.

I think a part of me died with them.

I shut down. Nothing else seemed to matter.

Michael was the only one who could bear the weight of my grief. Not even friends could have done for me what he did. He was my rock, my anchor in the storm.

That same night, sobbing in his arms, I wished he could be my family.

First my brother, then my parents. All gone.

My mother’s aunt and uncle moved to Oklahoma to live with their children. In the end, I was alone in the world. But Michael never let me feel that way.

Years passed. Nine in total.

My café thrived. Now, I had two—one on the first floor of my house and another near the school. It was a dream come true.

But somewhere along the way, we slipped into a comfort zone.

Maybe I was partly to blame.

I had seen my parents fall apart when they lost Marcus. And I had been breaking a little more with every goodbye. I didn’t want to lose anyone else.

Michael always said he wanted to build a family with me, but neither of us took the first step.

Deep down, I didn’t care. He was enough for me.

I didn’t want children. I didn’t want to get attached to something that could be ripped away from me.

Who could guarantee it wouldn’t happen?

Now, I no longer had him.

The memories swirled through my mind like a storm. I needed to forget him.

I walked through the rain, alone, down the empty streets, all the way home.

Terrible idea to leave without the car.

By the time I finally got inside, soaked to the bone, the weight of loneliness became unbearable.

Drained, I sank to the floor, leaning against the living room door.

Burying my face in my knees, I cried.