Love Never Finds a Way

Chapter 8

Phyllis' POV

I have an interview with a potential roommate today. His name is Thomas. Every time I think about him, I think about the boy I love who I left. I should never have left. I should have just stayed and been mad for a while, then forgiven him. But I didn't. I left. I went to Australia to try to find him but it was practically impossible. I refuse to go back to Manchester. My family will never forgive me. I left them, and never came back. I could be dead for all they know.

God I miss Thomas. I miss the way his hair falls over his face, I miss his chocolate coloured eyes. I miss him. I still have the picture he drew of us kissing hung up, this time in the lounge room in my new house in London. I can't afford the rent on a teacher's salary, so I need a roommate.

I check my hair in the mirror and walk out the door and go one the underground till I get to the Starbucks in central London. There isn't many people her at 7.30 in the morning. Just a boy, maybe about 23 or 24, sitting at the booth where I said I would meet him. "Hello," I say. He stands up to shake my hand, "You must be Thomas," I say.

"Indeed, and Phyllis, is it?" he replies.

"Yes," I say. Then I notice his Muse Tea-shirt, "Oh cool! Are you a fan of muse as well?" I ask. I absolutely love Muse!

"Yes," he replies. We start talking even more, till we realise that it is basically midday and we spent four and a half hours at Starbucks.

We get along really well, so I invite him back to see the apartment.

Thomas' POV

The meeting went really well. We got along really well and talked for about four and a half hours. He has invited me to come see the apartment, which is a good sign.

He reminds me so much of Phyllis Jones, the boy who has my heart. If only I knew where he was. His family doesn't know where he is either. If I did see him, I would want him to forgive me. I wouldn't want him to feel bad for running away. I just want to be with him. I want him to meet mine and Abi's children. They would love to meet him. I just want everything to be good between us.

We get back to the apartment. It is a small apartment. Big enough for just the two of us, and maybe a few guests.

"I forgot to mention," I start, "I have kids. They live with their mother, but they might visit if that's alright."

"Of course. There is a spare room. How many do you have?"

"Umm....well.... Five."

"FIVE!" he says, "Not meaning to sound rude, but how old are you?"

"They are quintuplets. They were born when I was 17. They are now 6." When I am telling him this we walk into the lounge room. He looks a bit confused about something. I am confused about something. That picture in the lounge room. That is the one I drew for Phyllis Jones six years ago. "Where did you get that drawing?" I say, picking it of the wall and holding it. I can feel tears welling in my eyes.

"A boyfriend drew it for me," he says, "Why?"

"Do you still love that boyfriend?" I ask.

"Yes." He says. This is the happiest moment of my life.

"I found you Phyllis Jones. I love you too. I never stopped."

"Thomas Jones?" he whimpers.

"Yes." I say. I put the picture down on the coffee table. I walk over to him and our lips crashed. There is so much love and emotion in our kiss. It still feels like the first time we kissed, pure and right.