Only Yours

0.3

Tamina

It may not be a lot, but the thought is there, and I hope he will see that when I give it to him. He doesn't need to use it if it's embarrassing, but it will make me feel a lot better if he could at least take it.

A toddler strapped in a Thomas the Tank Engine harness on his mother's back stares at me with wide green eyes. Drool bubbling from his lips is my greeting.

Puffing out my cheeks and grabbing my ears, I'm rewarded with a bout of cackles and frantic hand-clapping as he swings his little legs.

His mum smiles over her shoulder at me, and I offer one in return as they make their way to the exit. The boy offers a broad, flappy wave and giggles before disappearing from sight.

"Is this everything for today?" the young cashier asks, tightening her dark ponytail as she perches on a stool that's slightly too high for the till.

"Yes, thank you," I say, placing the keyring in her awaiting palm, snagging a glimpse of the butterfly tattoo peeking from under her sleeve, inches from her wrist.

She smiles, swinging a hand toward an overly decorated box filled with miniature chocolates and heart-shaped lollies. "Can I interest you in our early Valentine's offers?"

I shift, the thought of Valentine's Day bringing a sense of unease.

"The extra cash we bring in from them is going toward a charity for the safety of domestic animals," she adds, inspecting her long, sharp-tipped nails.

The animals need care as much as we do.

Picking up two lollies, one consisting of white and red swirls while the other is red and pink, knowing Mum and Dad will enjoy them when they return. Eyeing the strawberry cream-filled chocolate, I add that for the extra cause.

As soon as everything is tallied and checked out, I stash the lollies in my bag to keep my book company before heading out. The air is cool today, but not as chilly as yesterday. People are still roaming around to their next destinations, some with their heads down in a hurry, others held up with purposeful strides.

With a grin, I unwrap my chocolate, savour it, and throw the wrapper in the closest bin. It's sweet and tangy on my tongue, but it's a delight. One I forget to treat myself to often.

Once I've swallowed, I pick up into a sprint down the street, the distance between me and Brooks & Books steadily declining. The closer I get, the more anxiety eats away at me, begging me to turn tail and return to the comforts of my home. On the other hand, Gabriel's advice proceeds to barrel through me, propelling me forward.

If this goes well, I'll have good news for him when I return to work.

The thought alone spurs me on, knowing I will have someone to chat to. Not just for reassurance, but for the kicks and giggles.

I can't fight the smile, even as I run through the drying-up puddles from yesterday as they splash out at the sides from the impact. The wind running its ghostly tendrils through my hair brings another notch to my confidence, and for the first time since this whole ordeal, I'm excited.

After what feels like a mile, I come to a stop, seeing someone who looks distinctly like Brandon. They stand in front of Brooks & Books, facing the doorway with their hands clasped behind their back—exactly like he would.

The closer I get, the better view I'm granted; a black hoodie topped off with an equally dark leather jacket. His lower half is clad in navy-blue jeans, and a pair of black trainers cover his feet.

If it is Brandon, I have to say, he looks smart, even in casual clothing.

Upon my arrival, perhaps my reflection catches his eye, the person turns around. To my relief, it is him, and like yesterday, those sunglasses of his are high on the bridge of his nose. There's a slight quirk to his lips.