Still The One

Twenty-Two

In order to move on, you must understand why you felt what you did and why you no longer need to feel it. – Mitch Albom, Five People You Meet In Heaven

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Twenty-Two
Two years ago – September 3, 2016

“Is that everything?” Mr. Wright asked, rifling through the contents of his desk drawer. While his mind was preoccupied with the piles of office work he desperately needed to organize, I was busy overlooking the multiple photographs displayed in the room. He seemed overly zealous posing beside his family on their various vacations. And I felt a bit elated from that.

I went over the stack of paperwork in my hands; my eyes scanned each separate document earnestly. Everything seemed to be accounted for.

“Yes,” I declared. “Thank you so much, Mr. Wright.”

He got up from his swivel chair and sauntered around his workspace to shake my hand. “Well, that’s that. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Moore.”

I gave my most authentic smile and left his office with an accomplished mindset, and a new shop. I had finally taken the opportunity of completely claiming Icy as my own. Evan’s admired parlor had been gone for far too long, as I had been without a job. Each day, as I’d pass by on my way home, I’d be hit with a sheer sense of nostalgia. The sight of the inactive shop had given me an aching for the good old days. I needed a distraction from what was going on with my life, and reopening seemed like the perfect fix.

And I also needed to hire some workers; Icy had never really done that in the past. I had been Evan’s only employee. Earlier, I went through the few applications that were sent in, feeling most drawn in to two teenagers – Sean and Violet. I’d have to make a memo to call and set an interview with them sometime.

When I had finally arrived at my flat, I went straight for the couch, landing harshly on the remote. Pulling the device from underneath me, I heard my phone vibrating. I fished along the insides of my purse and saw that Niall was calling. I greeted, “Hey.”

“So I’ve got the last of your stuff.”

“That’s great! Thank –”

“And lemme tell ya’ it wasn’t easy, Alice,” he interrupted, irritation evident in his tone.

There was a slight nervous constriction in my throat. “How so?”

“I’ll tell ya’ in person. I’m headin' up the stairs to your place right now.”

“Alright,” I sighed, hanging up. Right upon setting my phone on the couch cushion, I heard a stern knock on the door. Opening up, Niall ambled in carrying several boxes and dropping them atop the coffee table counter. He groaned obnoxiously and stumbled past me to take a seat.  I glanced towards the packages and asked, “This is everything?”

He sighed, “Yup.”

I shook my head at my ridiculous friend, finding his exhaustion to be unnecessary. Then I skimmed over what he brought; several old t-shirts, a few mugs, the picture frames of Harry and I, my books, and some mix CDs. Oddly enough, the forgotten items still lingered with the essence of my former flame. I found pieces of him everywhere, in everything.