Where We Left Off

Chapter 4: Autumn's rest

Weeks had passed since his return to this town, but he still felt like a stranger who's childhood self finds it intriguing yet frightening to the unknown. And yet, this morning was different. This morning, the love of his life was cooking breakfast in her kitchen. Her presence had become a constant, her laughter filling the spaces where the silence once loomed large, was now a house of bliss for the the two lovers.

As MJ pushed open the door to the modest house, the smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted him. He smiled, taking off his coat and hanging it by the door. In the kitchen, she stood by the stove, her hands gracefully moving over the pan, listening intently to the sizzle of eggs as they hit the hot surface.

“Is that you?” she asked, her head tilted slightly, her milky eyes fixed in the direction of the door.

“Yeah, it’s me,” MJ answered, stepping closer. “It smells good.”

She smiled, and though she couldn’t see it, her joy was palpable, radiant even. “I’m making scrambled eggs, but you’ll have to tell me if they’re decent.”

MJ stood beside her, watching her move with a delicate precision. She knew the kitchen as if she had been born in it, the layout memorized in the same way someone remembers the lines of a favorite book. Without sight, she navigated with an ease that never failed to amaze him.

“I think they’ll be perfect,” he said softly, his voice warm yet somewhat deep where emotions that flood his heart pumped with memories of what they had before.

The light streaming in from the window caught her face, highlighting the soft curve of her cheeks and the calm focus she wore as she moved. Her hands, though delicate, showed a quiet strength as they worked, flipping the eggs with a care that could only come from years of experience.

He reached out, gently placing a hand over hers as she moved to pour the coffee. “Let me help you with that,” he offered, his voice a whisper as if the moment were too fragile to break.

She hesitated for a second, then smiled, nodding her assent. Together, they poured the coffee, their hands brushing lightly against one another. It was a simple act, but in the stillness of the morning, it felt profound—like something shared between two souls who understood the unspoken.

They sat down at the small wooden table, the plates of scrambled eggs in front of them. The fire crackled faintly from the hearth, casting a warm glow across the room. Outside, the frost still clung to the windows, but inside, the air was soft and warm.

“I’ve been thinking,” MJ began, breaking the quiet, “about the past. About this town, and what it was like when I used to walk these streets with...you.”

The blind girl listened, her fingers resting lightly on the rim of her mug. She said nothing, but her presence was enough, a quiet reminder that sometimes, words didn’t need to fill the space between them. Her soft breathing and the gentle hum of the fire were all the sounds needed to ground him.

“I never thought I’d come back,” he continued, “but here I am, and it feels like the town hasn’t changed. Like the winter still hasn’t left.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Sometimes, the cold stays with us because we’re still holding on to it,” she said quietly, her voice a balm to his restless heart. “Maybe you came back because you wanted to thaw what’s been frozen all these years.”

MJ stared at her, the weight of her words settling in the quiet of the room. He knew she was right. His memories of her, the girl from his past, had kept him bound to this place, kept him from moving on. But sitting here, across from the blind girl, the warmth of the fire between them, he felt something shift.

“You know,” she said, breaking his thoughts, “I’ve always wanted to see snow. People say it’s beautiful, but I can only imagine what it looks like.”

MJ stood up suddenly, his chair scraping softly against the wooden floor. “Come with me,” he said, a spark of excitement in his voice.

“Where are we going?” she asked, a smile tugging at her lips as she reached for her walking stick.

“You’ll see,” he said, taking her hand in his.

They stepped outside into the cold morning air, and MJ guided her carefully across the snow-dusted street. The town was still quiet, the kind of peaceful that only early mornings can offer. They walked until they reached the edge of a small hill overlooking the town, where the view stretched out before them like a vast, white canvas.

He paused, turning to her. “I want you to feel it,” he whispered, letting go of her hand.

She stretched her hands out in front of her, palms open to the sky. The first snowflakes began to fall, light and delicate, landing on her fingers. She gasped softly, her face lifting as if she could somehow see the beauty around her.

“It’s...cold,” she murmured, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

MJ watched her, his heart full. In that moment, he realized that maybe the winter hadn’t stayed with him after all. Maybe, just maybe, he had found the warmth he had been searching for. Right here, beside her.