It's Time (Sequel to Radioactive)

Chapter 16

Kelley's POV

"You need anything else?" I asked quietly, handing him a cup of tea.

George shook his head and accepted the cup with thanks. He took a sip and then rested the cup on knee. George didn't speak for a minute. He was too busy looking around the house.

"You must really like it here, if it's always this cold." I didn't really reply, but nodded my head silently. I loved it here, but the weather had nothing to do with it.

George took some more tea, then set the cup down on the table.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't entirely my fault, but I should have done something." George's voice was feeble, becoming quieter near the end of his thoughts. When I didn't say anything, he continued talking, but much quieter.

"Look, your friend Charlie, she found me a few weeks ago. She brought me back my book, the white one. I, I read it. The entire thing, word for word. And I'm so incredibly sorry. It wasn't your fault, none of it was..."

I looked up from the cup which I had been staring into and looked George straight in the eye. I could see how badly he felt, but that didn't really change my mind.

"Get out, please," I whispered. "Just leave. Go for a walk, get something to eat, I don't really care, but you need to leave. Now."

George didn't say anything. He stood up quietly and made for the door, grabbing his coat and scarf as he walked by the chair.

I didn't watch him leave or tell him when to return. I couldn't think that far ahead. Only when I heard the door open and click shut again did I breath deeply again.

"Why," I muttered to myself, curling into a small ball on the sofa. "Why did he come back?"

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George's POV

I walked out of the garden, heading back towards town. The sun had appeared from behind the clouds and warned the chilly air. It still hurt my lungs, but the sun added some brightness to the dark day.

When I got back to the hotel, I picked up my guitar from the small room and headed out to the cold air once again. I wasn't sure where I was going, but I knew I'd find the right place.

With my guitar across my back, I walked the city roads, searching for someone who would listen to the music that I was writing back at home. The roads brought me to the train station. Quite often the place we start is where we end.

----

When my fingers turned so numb I couldn't possible play any longer, I slung the guitar across my back again and walked back up the roads I had come along.

I didn't care if Kelley ever forgave me, but I wanted to make amends in my heart. And I only had today left. I got the feeling that it wouldn't be long enough, but I had to try.