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BACK - 11

[EMMA]

"Diesel?" I wake up to find that the other side of the bed is empty.

I put on my glasses and make my way downstairs into the kitchen, where I can hear pots and pans clanging.

"Diesel, honey are you okay there?" I try to hide back my smile as he struggles with cooking and getting ingredients out.

He turns at the sound of my voice and looks sheepishly at me, reminding me of a little boy. My small smile has turned into a big grin as I realise what he is doing.

"You're making breakfast for me?"

He nods and I just want to squeeze the life out of his cuteness. Only my boyfriend would attempt to cook when he doesn't even know where we keep the eggs.

Oh Diesel.

I go over to him and take the utensils out of his hands, "Why did you decide to do this?" I ask as I put them into the sink, ready to rinse before I put them into the dishwasher.

"Well," He begins as he takes a seat at the breakfast bar and watches me make breakfast instead, "I felt bad for pushing information out of you a couple of days ago when you said you were fine."

I nod but don't say anything, "I know that you hate clingy yet I was still acting like that. For that I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted." I give him a peck on the lips. "Now let's make some breakfast."

* * *

"This is why I will never attempt to cook again," Diesel points at the breakfast in front of him, "It'll never match up to your standards."

"You flatter me too much babe."

At that moment, we hear the flap of the front door post box. Diesel gets up to collect the post and comes in with one for me.

I instantly know who it's from.

"For you." Diesel says, looking confused. "You've been quite popular recently." He jokes and I laugh it off awkwardly.

I feel guilty for lying to him, for not telling him that it's actually my ex-boyfriend/best friend who has decided to write me letters because I refuse to talk to him.

I take the envelope and go up to my office where I kept the other one he sent.

I immediately open it to read about what he said this time.

Dear Emma,

                          I don't know if you read my first letter or not, so I don't know if I'm just wasting my time.

If you are somewhat the same Emma I knew, then you probably did read it. I hope that you've read it at least.

I watch you from afar when you go to your shop in the morning, wondering if you ever notice the person standing behind the bush.

You don't though. You walk in and only walk out when it's closing time yet you still don't notice me.

I hoped you'd notice me so I could get a chance to explain why I left.

I know you want to know.

Love,

           Issac.

I fold up the letter and place it back into the envelope, before taking out my own paper and pen.

Dear Issac,

                        I did read your first letter. How could I not?

I'm curious and always have been. Issac, I'm not the same Emma you knew because you broke that Emma. That Emma was left shattered into such tiny pieces that she was beyond repair.

She was isolating herself. She was dying inside.

One thing that the old Emma left was the memories of you and I. Maybe that's why I read it.

I'll start being wearier when going to the shop now, I don't know what type of dangerous people lurk about.

I want to hear your explanation but isn't it too late?

Regards,

                  Emma.

That letter goes into my drawer too.

* * *

Author's Note: HEY HEY HEY! #DEMMA action!  Emma is not sending these letters, frustrating?

Will Issac be able to get Emma to listen or is it too late?

FIND OUT IN THE COMING CHAPTERS OF BACK.

I made that sound like an advert, haha.