Unspoken Unbroken

A pair of strong hands

A tall broad man approaches us and looks at the furniture that now lay next to the car.

He looks like he has a lot more muscle than brains.
Thinking of it, I'm really glad I parked the car close to the entrance. "Need a pair of strong hands ladies?" He says with a smirk. "No thank y-" Emma tries to turn him down but I quickly hush her "Now that you mention it that would come in handy, what did you have in mind?" I ask him with a sweet smile.

He points to his truck, a few parking spaces away from us. "With this babe," he says proudly. I have to strain every muscle to keep myself from laughing. I think it's so cringe when people call their cars "babes."

"Only if you want to, sir," Emma says to him.

Then, all of a sudden, he shows off his biceps.

"Oh," I accidentally say, but quickly cover it with a "Wow" right after.

He picks up the box, which I assume is the closet, and tries to move it, but fails to do so. "Do you need a pair of helping hands?" I suggest, quoting him. He laughs before saying, "Ha! You're a woman. I don't think so." Offended, I share a look with Emma, who simply shrugs. 

She can't be used to this sort of treatment, right?

After a good hour, he finally heaves everything into his truck. "Just show the way, and I'll follow you right up," he says before stepping into his truck.

Emma and I quickly run to my car. We share a look before bursting out laughing.

"Ahaha, what a fool," I say, clutching my stomach.

"Oh my God, men are such idiots. Well, not all of them, but most," Emma says, nodding as she wipes the tears from her eyes.

I put my foot on the gas pedal and drive onto the highway. Every now and then, I check the mirror to see if the truck driver is still following us. "I know I said that he was a fool." I nod my head towards the truck behind us before continuing, "But it's actually us who are the fools.""Why?" Emma asks curiously. 

"Who in the right mind gives their newly bought furniture to a random man?".

"Us," Emma shrugs. "He's still there, isn't he?"

"Yeah, but he could also not be."

Fifteen minutes later, we arrive in the neighbourhood. "Should I stop on another street? We could just carry the items by ourselves, because I don't feel safe knowing he knows where we live," I say to Emma.

"I get you, but how are we going to carry all that without knowing whether someone might steal our stuff? I'm sure he won't do anything," she tells me.

"If you say so."

I stop at my house, and so does  the macho man.

Once I've parked my car in the garage, we step out to face the man. He already pulled the closet out of his truck and now stands infront of the garage. 

"Thank you so much for doing this...?" I leave a gap for his name.

"Call me Matt," he proudly states.

"Well, thank you, Matt," Emma says batting her eyelashes.

It looks like this is big ego boost for him because he quickly runs back while doing a little dance.

Not long after that, two chairs arrive, followed by a bed, a desk, and some other stuff. Once he's done, I open the door and go inside to move some things around. This way we can carry Emma's furniture inside, to her new room.

She picked out the room at the end of the hall on the upper floor, which means we need to pull a goddamn closet up the stairs.

When I return to the front door, I expect to see neither a truck nor Matt. Instead, I still see both the truck and Matt standing at my front door.