Romanticismo Per Caso ❤

Is it too late? (Lorena's POV)

I should've known that my parents were going to fire Elias. Their lack of trust was evident from the start. I don't know why they were so tough on him, but I suppose if someone had stolen from me and was trying to be amiable, I wouldn't be lenient either. Although, whether or not Elias actually committed such an act remained uncertain.

I held onto hope that Elias was still around so that I could talk to him and hear his side of the story directly from him. I believe that by conversing with him, I could gauge the truth behind all of the accusations. There was a sixth sense within me that told me that he couldn't deceive me.

Even if I had deceived him.

I took careful footsteps near Offredi's the next day, the weight of my decision weighing heavily on me. The weather reflected summer weather, which was rare when it was usually mid 70's here. The nature outside of Offredi's was serene, a gentle breeze speaking through the vibrant green foliage lining the streets. The sunlight danced playfully on the cobblestone sidewalks, casting warm shadows beneath some ancient trees.

I felt contempt with my environment and let its tranquility move through my body. It was going to be okay, I reassured myself with a breath as I opened the door that led me inside the restaurant. My decision to tell my parents I was going to leave early today held me down, scared of their reaction. But by anchoring myself with determination, I told myself it was time.

It was time to encounter Elias.

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As soon as I walked into Offredi's, I was met with the sound of dishes clanking, dishwashers screeching rapidly, and people talking loudly. I looked at a clock that was sitting on the waitress/waiter stand that read: 11 am. It was almost rush hour.

Tracy was not in the front of the restaurant today, and I realized this when I gazed into the kitchen and noticed her figure there. She looked under distress, along with everyone in the back of the kitchen. I did not see my parents inside the kitchen as I walked in there, so I figured they were in the shed outside.

The mere mention of business being held in the shed sent a shiver down my spine. It was never a good sign when important discussions took place there, unless it was about money. With a sigh, I dove into my tasks for the few hours I was going to be working, knowing the next hour I would depart to see Elias.

Before I departed, I entered the shed with careful steps, trying not to interrupt what could be held as important. I glanced at my parents who were thankfully talking about money and I exhaled in relief.

"Hello," I started, my voice almost as quiet as a whisper. "Hi Lorena, why are you not working right now?" my father voiced.

"I'm going to get something that I need to get done," I said, placing my hands to my sides, "I will be off today starting now. It's very important." I stared into their eyes. My Mamma sighed in exhaustion. "Okay." My Papa looked at my Mamma in a weird way shocked by her response. I nodded and turned around to leave. Before I walked out of the door, I heard my father voice something. I turned around and I listened.

"I don't know what's going on Lorena, but we need you to be working. Even if you're my daughter, I'm going to treat you the same as any other employee. And you know that. No favorites. And to be honest, you've been really inactive lately." He gritted his teeth, his face apparent of disappointment. "I understand, I just need some time some days. Just like any other employee." He shook his head and looked at my Mamma. "Okay Lorena, you're dismissed."

His body turned around as a clear sign that he was going to be talking about my absence. I ignored his ways, because he wasn't going to fire me. I needed me there. He couldn't do that.

His anger at me recently plucked my nerves. I was tired of his critism. I rushed out of the restaurant, trying to get in my own comfort space. Yet, I couldn't find it because the urgency to talk to Elias still grasped my uneasiness.

When I made my way to my car, I put in the locations for Elias's address. I still had it programed into my phone. There was just something in me that made me never delete it off of my phone. Now I know exactly why I didn't delete it off of my phone.

Because my heart was yearning for his.

I move my wrist and attempt to start the car. "Gosh you've gotta be kidding me," I breath out in frustration. My car doesn't start. After a few moments, just when I think all hope is lost, I hear the engine turn over in reluctance. Well, I guess I'll be needing a new car battery soon.

Just before I drive off, I grip the steering wheel with both hands. Suddenly, I begin to bawl. Tears rush from my eyes like a river hitting a strong current. I cup my face in my hands, sinking into reality. Why should I show up at his house? Am I just making things worse by showing up? I always seem to be the root of people's problems. Heck, I'm the root of my own problems.

"People pleaser," a voice in my head mocks. I hit my steering wheel in anger. "Gosh, Lorena you're so ignorant," I tell myself. I cross my arms and rest my head on the steering wheel, sobbing for a few minutes. After a few minutes, I wipe away my relentless tears, which does little good, and shove my emotions aside to selfishly continue with my plan.

Driving while crying should be illegal, but it isn't. I prayed no one would pull me over. I looked like a mess, and if he saw me like this, would it change anything? Selfishly, I hoped it would. As I turned into his neighborhood, I sniffled, struggling to stop my nose from running. When I parked and stepped out of the car, I looked at his house. An eerie feeling washed over me and my presence. His house, once warm and inviting, now seemed to haunt me. Could a house reflect a person? It looked neglected, and his plants were wilting and dying.

I hesitated before knocking on the door, questioning myself, wondering if I should just turn back. But before I could retreat to my car, I knocked. Minutes passed with no answer. I sighed, another tear escaping. My eyes felt heavy, like they were carrying 200-pound weights, on the brink of tearing apart. Without a mirror, I knew that I looked like a disaster. But that didn't matter---what mattered was my sanity. And my sanity depended on seeing a glimpse of Elias.

And hopefully a glimpse of his forgiveness and love from him.

Eventually, I pull out my phone and decide to dial Elias's mom. She had given me her number one day when I saw her at the restaurant. She kept in touch for a few days after Elias and I broke up, so maybe she will answer.

Hopefully.

The phone rings for a moment. My hand is shaking in anxiety. To my surprise, she answers. "Mrs. Johansson?" I question.

"Lorena? What's wrong?" She replies, concern evident in her tone.

"Oh, thank God you answered. I was wondering if you knew where Elias is. Now, before you say you can't tell me or hang up on me, I just wanted to tell you this. I've tried to move on, multiple times, but I can't. No one can replace Elias. If Elias doesn't at least know that I feel that way, I don't think I can ever move on."

"Wow, Lorena. He's not home now. I really don't know why I am telling you this, because I shouldn't, but he's going to Stockholm."

My heart skips a thousand beats.

Is it too late?