Running From The Flames

Envelopes

The mess inside the house was the last of my worries when I unlocked my mailbox and saw what had been delivered while I was gone. It was deja vu right down to the brown 100% recycled paper envelope that promised it was sustainable and carbon neutral. I flipped it over and saw the same return address of the London lawyer that Trent had used nearly three years ago and my stomach turned.

"Addie, can you show Pierre the house? I just need to make an important phone call."

Addie didn't give Pierre a chance to ask me what was wrong as she grabbed his hand and marched him inside my renovated bungalow. Granny had been perplexed when I brought the single storey fixer upper and offered to buy me something bigger and newer but I loved the character it held and there was more than enough space for the two of us. Addie and I had made the place our sanctuary and I wished I could take the house with us when we moved.

"Hey mum," I choked when she answered the phone. "I think I need your help."

"What is it, mija?" She asked as I took a seat at the desk in my study and tore through the envelope to see the court summonings.

"Assault," I gasped as I skimmed over the details. "I'm being charged with assaulting that bastard Trent Gordon!"

"Hijo de puta," mum swore and I heard something sounding suspiciously like a door being slammed shut. "Send me through the documents and I'll make some calls. I wouldn't worry too much, mija, I'm sure this can be settled out of court."

"Alright," I sighed and looked at the framed photo on my desk from the day Addie was born. I had never been more afraid than in that moment but as soon I looked at her something snapped into place and I knew I would do anything for her.

A shadow across my wall alerted me to Pierre's presence and I cleared my throat of the emotion that had tightened it. Pierre walked into my study and picked up a 3D printed, fully functioning A523 replica I had used for my final paper and he looked at the precise details of the miniature version of his race car as he leant against my desk. He mindlessly spun the wheel with his fingers as he waited for me, resting his hip against my desk.

"Let me know what you figure out. Te amo, mama."

"Yo también te amo."

I hung up the call and placed my phone on the desk beside my MacBook that I hadn't opened since I submitted my final paper last month. I didn't say anything as I traded the documents for the racecar and his eyebrows shot up after the first sentence.

"Is this serious?" he asked. "You have a restraining order against him. Shouldn't he be the one in court?"

"Mum's going to look into it, I don't really know anything about all that. She took care of everything last time." I massaged my temples and let out a defeated sigh. "All I want is a few days where I don't have to deal with any shit. I feel like all I've done for the last three years is run from one fire to the next. I'm so fucking tired, Pierre."

"Oh, mon amour," Pierre murmured as he swivelled my chair around and he knelt between my knees, his hands running soothing lines up and down my legs. "You were doing that all by yourself, but not anymore. Everything will workout in the end."

"And if it's not okay, it's not the end?" I finished for him.

Pierre chuckled. "Otmar has a lot of useful sayings."

"That one he stole from John Lennon. But thank you." I leaned forward and stole a much needed kiss from him before Addie danced into the room wanting to go to brunch. "Okay, I'll just send this to Abuela then we can go. Did you give Pierre a tour of the house?"

She nodded proudly.

"She showed me where to leave my bag, in the guest room," Pierre chuckled. "Has your gym ever been used? I think there was still protective wrap on the machines."