𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 | ✓

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩 𝟏𝟐

I never imagined my 'honeymoon' consisting of lugging heavy boxes out of my house. Although, I'm not doing very much work, it seems hard and watching my bedroom begin to turn empty hurts a little.

As I stood at the doorway, I watched the man in uniform load the last of my belongings onto the moving truck. I took one last look around the empty room, trying to etch every detail into my memory. The walls that had witnessed so many memories, the floor that had supported me through thick and thin, ever since I was brought home from the hospital.

I've decided to stay back for now, instead of arriving there along with my stuff, I trust they'll get it there safely. I do have a few more last-minute things to get together.

As I quickly gathered a few essentials and stuffed them into my bag, I scanned the room for anything else I might need, my eyes landed on a small box that had been left behind. I made my way over to it and picked it up, looking at it. However, my focus was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing through the house. I heard the front door open and close, and a familiar voice coming from the foyer.

With a heavy box in my hands and a bag slung over my arm, I made my way down the stairs, my focus solely on not dropping them and falling. The weight was almost too much to carry, and I struggled with each step. "Need a hand?" his husky voice growing closer and closer, when suddenly, the weight was lifted from my arms, and I looked up to see Ryder's face.

I flashed a smile of appreciation towards him, "Sorry, the guys had forgotten to load this up on the truck and—" I halted mid-sentence as I noticed his smile widening on his face, fixated on my every word. "What?" I furrowed my brows at him, my lips curling downwards in disapproval at his shit-eating grin.

He shakes his head, but the smile remains. "I can give you a lift with your stuff there, I'll put your stuff in the car." Before I could even utter a word, he swiftly snatched my belongings from my hands and made his way towards the car.

My father's voice echoed through the house, interrupting the long stretch of silence. "Was that Ryder just now?" he asked from the top of the stairs. I turned around to face him, but before I could open my mouth to answer, Ryders appeared by my side. "Yes sir, it was."

I stood by his side, watching as my father's face lit up with joy upon seeing him. "I've just offered Vivienne a ride back, along with her things," Ryder informs him.

He made his way down the stairs, his steps quick and light. "Lovely!" he exclaimed, holding his arms out as he reaches the bottom, before pulling me into a goodbye hug.

I give a small hug back before pulling away. He's not even trying to hide his excitement about me leaving, which makes me question if I even want to be here, where I'm not even wanted. As he begins to babble to Ryder, my mother suddenly emerged from around the corner. "Leaving so soon?" Her voice was heavy with sadness as she approached me, enveloping me in a warm and tight hug.

"I'll be back, I'll visit you all the time," I reassure her with a slight chuckle as I hug her tighter. I hate that I'm leaving her here alone with my father, She hasn't lived alone with him for nearly nineteen years. With a heavy heart, I reluctantly pull myself from her embrace. I offer her a small, reassuring smile, hoping to ease the worry etched on her face. "I'll be okay," I promise, my voice barely above a whisper.

I step back beside Ryder, my father says his goodbyes and Ryder walks me out to his car, which seems to be a black McLaren. I watched as he made his way to the car, I followed suit, climbing into the passenger side as he did the same on the other side. The car hummed to life as we settled in, the sound of the engine filling the air between us.

I give one last glance at the house, seeing my mother slowly closing the front door in front of her.

The whole car ride is silent, he hasn't spoken a word or even looked over in my direction, but he's always seemed ignorant like that. I watch as his tatted hand circles the wheel as we turn the corner, into his street before pulling into the driveway and down into the penthouse garage.

The car falls silent and he opens his door, climbing out and grabbing my things before heading towards the elevator. I follow behind him quietly, joining him and standing beside him with my hands nervously fiddling in front of me as the elevator as the doors shut, enclosing us in the small, mirrored space.

After what feels like an hour of long deafening silence, we finally make it to his floor, and into his apartment. The front door leads into the luxury kitchen and a wide lounge room off to the side, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out onto the city, and down the hall are more doors.

As we move further inside, my eyes darted around, taking in every detail. Despite this being a male's apartment, it was surprisingly clean and decorated nicely. Comfortable and homely, the colours were muted, yet warm, and the furniture was arranged in the right places.

He leads me to the first door in the hallway, turning the handle and pushing it open. The room was dull and somewhat empty, a dresser and a bed that was neatly made, with crisp white sheets and fluffy pillows, made most of the space, except the stacks of boxes on the side of the wall.

"It's not much," he mutters with a shrug, "but make yourself at home." He placed my belongings casually onto the bed before slipping out the door, leaving me alone in the bland room. I assume we're not sharing a bed, which is a relief to me, I don't see myself sleeping next to a complete stranger.

I've made it through at least three boxes, and things seem to be coming together. It's comforting seeing familiar things around here, I don't feel so out of place anymore.

Sudden footsteps make their way down the hallway, and into the kitchen, and then out the door. I pause, straining my ears to pick up any movement but the apartment is dead silent. I take a deep breath before sighing, trying to shake off the weird feeling of being in this place alone.

I eventually move onto a box, and opening it, I'm met with familiar clothing and other things that belong to Luka. I haven't spoken to him since before the wedding, and I'm not entirely sure I want to. I've been trying to understand how he feels, but this was the one day I needed him most, not as my boyfriend, but as my best friend.

I shut the box and shoved it aside, tucking it neatly under the bed, before moving on to the next one.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
AN/word count - 1235