Love, Sophie

Epilogue

Christmas is my favourite time of the year. Something about the whole Christmas Spirit thing makes me want to jump in excitement. It's snowing, the smell of hot chocolate and cookies is always around, oozing out from the kitchen, stockings by the fireplace, Christmas movies on the TV and most importantly; everyone is happy.

And happy is something I haven't been for six months.

I am helping mum in the kitchen when the doorbell rings. She goes to get it while I put in the cookies we just made; and I can't deny that it reminds me of him. It feels like everywhere I go, everything reminds me of him. I can't seem to let go. Even though there's an ocean between us now, his face haunts me and his smile lingers in my mind.

I close the oven and look satisfied inside before I put on the timer so I won't burn them. That always used to happen when him and I made them.

"Sophie?" mum stuck her head inside the kitchen. "They're here."

My eyes widen. They're here. He's here. My breathing got heavier. He's standing in my doorway right now, and he's about to come inside his old second home after six months. I'm about to face him.

Luckily, there is a small mirror on the fridge, just a small one, but it's enough for me to quickly look at my reflection. Do I want to impress him? Yeah, I think so. I know I shouldn't, I know he doesn't care about how I look. At least he used to not care. He always told me I was beautiful and the way I was so kind and caring made me even more beautiful.

I took a deep breath and made my way to the foyer. I hear voices talking and laughing, and I recognize the voice of Patricia, his mother. And I freeze in my steps when I hear his.

"Is Sophie here?" he asks. I hear mum say that I am in the kitchen. I run back, and before I know it, he appears. He is suddenly standing there, staring at me.

He looks different. He looks very different. He wears a hoodie and some ripped jeans. He used to hate ripped jeans, guess that's changed. His face is the same, but much more tan. His hair is messy, which drives me crazy.
He looks older, but I like it. He also looks taller and bigger, I can see he's been working out a lot. And he's grown. And I realize in that moment, that he's not the same Gabe that left Chelmsford.

His gaze met mine, and for some seconds, I just want to burst out in tears. I want to cry out everything I feel, everything I've felt these past six months. But I know I can't, or else I'll have to explain everything to him.

"Hey, Soph," he says, breaking the silence that surrounds us. My eyes widen when he calls me Soph. That hasn't happened in a long time.

I just give him a weak smile, unable to think. "Hey."

Another silence appears. I don't know what to do. I just stand here, looking at him while his eyes examine the kitchen. I know it's weird for him to see this kitchen he spent so many hours, days, years making food with me in and getting yelled at by my mum for not cleaning up.

I am about to ask him how he is doing, but shut my mouth when he walks toward me. I lean myself onto the counter, and suddenly he was extremely close to me. I feel his hand caress my cheek, and for a moment, his face is so near mine. The thought of him kissing me runs through my mind.

Of course he didn't.

He grab me into a tight hug, and I hesitate for a moment, but when I smell his familiar scent I immediatly wrap my arms around his waist. I want to stay in this moment forever; his strong arms wrapped around me, my face buried in the crook of his neck, and his in mine.

Being in his arms again gives me comfort and it soothes my mind, making me forget everything I've buried deep down inside me for the past six months.