there goes my heart - j.s

chapter three

With one hand I grab my gloves and beanie from the table and with the other, I open the door and bundle my self outside.
I squeeze myself tighter as I step outside, a sudden harsh wind cuts through me. My beanie and gloves get put on quickly as I walk towards the bus stop. Today, I am going to town. Mainly to scope out all the shops and see if there are any jobs available. Plus I just really need to get out of the flat.

So I catch the bus and walk around town. The air is cool and crisp and the streets are busy, people are scuttling around wrapped up in their own life.
I spot a nice looking hairdresser and through the window, see a lady get her hair done. I wonder about the woman on the other side of the glass. If she's married, if she's got children; if she's ever been truly and completely happy.
I can't help but wonder about other lives and how they're working. It's a habit of mine.

But the hairdressers looks really nice, maybe I should go there and get my hair dyed – I've always wanted to. Always wanted to experiment with colours and lengths, but never quite had the courage to. My hair has always been coffee brown. It's always waving this way and that. It's always sitting at shoulder length. I really need to change it up.

Eventually, when my feet get tired and my cheeks and nose are as pink and cold as ever, I decide to go home. Home. It's nice to think of my flat in London as home.

—

Pouring myself a hearty cup of coffee, I hear the doorbell ring. It's a sound that always makes my heart thump harder. I'm trying to work on it. That and answering phones. For some reason, those two things make me anxious. But I take a gulp of coffee and ignore the worry in my stomach.

I check the time on my phone; it's 7:20 pm, who could it be? I secretly hope it will be Joe, appearing on my doorstep in all his glory, with his eyes sparkling and a huge grin on his stupidly handsome face.

But it isn't. It's a young woman with a beaming smile worn on her beautiful face. She introduces herself as Zoe, sister of Joe, and asks if they want to join them for a meal. Something casual, she says. I agree because when she mentions Joe my heart flutters and when she mentions dinner, my stomach grumbles.

"Let me grab your number so I can text you when we're ready," Zoe suggests.

I happily oblige then tell her I should be getting ready. She nods and wraps me in a hug, and even though it's brief and I've only just met her, it fills me with a sense of comfort. She feels like home. Which is, of course, stupid and unlikely, and I've known her for less than 10 minutes but there's something about her that puts me at ease. The same goes for Joe. I can't quite put my finger on it, but its there, deep down a warm tingly feeling of being content, which I haven't felt in a very long time.

—

My phone buzzes and lights up with Zoe's text on the screen, telling me they're ready when I am. I quickly slip on some shoes, grab my coat and purse, then walk out the door.

My knock on Joe's door cuts through the quiet of the evening. Zoe answers. My mouth spreads into a smile, hers too.

"You look gorgeous Zoe," I compliment sincerely.

"Aw thanks, so do you!" She replies, giggling slightly.

Zoe and I are chatting about London life and how I'm adjusting when Joe walks up the stairs. My breath hitches and I feel my stomach fizz.