Loving a Black Rose & Life in an Elevator

Chapter 7: The Last Message

I opened the door to my house. I was done—done with her, done with everyone. Lou's words echoed in my mind, "Don't have the courage to fight for the people you claim to love." I hated them. Hated myself for not living up to them. My heart felt hollow. I wanted to scream, but I didn't have the strength. This house—this gray, lifeless house—felt suffocating. I hated everything about it—the ticking clock, the idle cats, the dusty family portraits. I hated the people who lived here,.

I tried to slip to my room unnoticed, but I knew that wouldn't be possible. The house was too small, too quiet, and too full of things I didn't want to deal with. I walked slowly, quietly, keeping my head down, wishing for a moment of peace.

The living room was empty, but as I reached the doorway to my room, a voice called out behind me.

— "Ah, the return of the melancholic artist," Arthur said with a sneer. "Hope you didn't forget this is not a charity for drunk, useless people."

I didn't turn around. My heart was too heavy for anger.

— "Leave me alone," I muttered, my voice flat.

My aunt appeared behind him, her face drawn with concern.

— "Poor guy," Arthur continued. "Did you just lose your girlfriend? Amory's dad told me. What do you care? She cheated on you, you cheated on her. Not even that pretty, gap-toothed thing. No wonder she left."

— "Arthur, please, leave him alone," my aunt said softly.

But Arthur ignored her, stepping closer, his voice dripping with disdain.

— ""Maybe if you weren't so pathetic, if you had the guts to fight for her—she wouldn't have left." He took another step closer, "But you're too much of a failure, too afraid to ever stand up for anything that matters."

I couldn't stand it anymore. My breath quickened. I spun around, meeting his eyes. I wasn't going to let him push me around like this.

— "You know what's funny?" I said, keeping my voice steady, but the anger was there. "You keep talking about getting a job, but you don't even have one. And, by the way, you never finished your time in the army like you told us—you deserted."

Arthur's expression faltered. He stepped back, stunned by my words, but I wasn't done.

— "Yeah, deserted—ran off two days before a mission. You're no better than me."

Arthur's face turned white, his hand shooting out to grab me by the collar, shoving me against the door. I felt my head hit the wood with a sickening thud, and for a moment, I couldn't move. His other hand curled into a fist, ready to strike. I was paralyzed, waiting for the blow.

— "Arthur, stop!" my aunt cried, her voice cracking. "Let him go!"

For a long moment, everything was frozen. Then, reluctantly, Arthur released me. His expression twisted between rage and confusion.

— "I wasn't going to hurt him," he muttered, his voice low, defensive. "I was just... teaching him a lesson."

My aunt's eyes blazed with fury. Without a word, she stepped forward and slapped him across the face. It was loud, sharp, and final. Arthur staggered back, stunned into silence.

— "Get out. Now," my aunt said, her voice shaking, but strong.

Arthur didn't argue. He just turned and left, his steps heavy with shame.

As the door closed behind him, my aunt collapsed onto the couch, her face buried in her hands.

— "What did I do? What did I do?" she whispered, her voice broken.

I wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but my own anger, my own despair was too much. I took a step toward her, my hand hovering on her shoulder, but then she looked up, eyes wild with emotion.

— "Don't touch me," she snapped. "Go to your room. I don't want to see you."

The words cut deep. I turned and walked away without a word, my mind racing. Nothing had changed. Arthur was gone, but the tension still hung in the air. This house, this life... nothing felt real anymore. Back in my room, I saw the notebook Lou had given me, lying open on my bed. For a moment, anger surged in me again. If she hadn't given me this damn thing, if she hadn't opened up, maybe none of this would've happened. I could have kept my distance. I could have kept everything normal. I ripped a page out, then another, the sound of tearing paper like a violent release. The pages fluttered around me, like birds escaping. But then, in the chaos, I saw a message I hadn't read.

I froze and read.

Love is a curious thing, blooming in places we least expect, like a wildflower growing through cracks in the stone, reaching for the light. It whispers to us in the most unexpected ways, revealing beauty in its quiet, tender moments. I believe the finest gifts in life are those we never see coming. And meeting you, my love, has been one of those extraordinary gifts. You are a person unlike any other, with qualities that have made my heart surrender completely. I find myself dreaming of a future—our future—a future for the three of us.