Chapter Five

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[Author's Notes: As always, please ignore any typos, errors and so forth as I generally catch any that I miss – after publication. Therefore I'll fix them as time progresses. Also, I used Google Translate for the Swedish in this chapter - please excuse any mistakes with the phrases. Luckily I have a few sweet readers who are more fluent with Swedish than I am, so they'll be helping me make those corrections in the coming days.]

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New York City, New York --

Breathless and tired from dragging three huge pieces of luggage behind me, I had finally made it to the front door of my condo. I figured that Bill was probably boarding his flight to Sweden at the moment, and a muffled dinging noise erupting from my purse had let me know that I had received a new text message.

Despite having to resist the urge to grab my cell phone out of my bag first, I snatched up my keys and unlocked my door in order to get my bags inside and settle down on my couch. I was completely worn out from the activities of the last few days, and from all the traveling I had done today. Unfortunately for me, I had almost forgotten about how fickle this old lock on my door could be. It liked to stick, particularly in the rising heat of summer and the dead cold of winter. I groaned as I searched my brain to remember the trick to unlocking this stubborn old door. The past three months, I was fortunate enough to not have to fiddle with it -- now I was back home again and of course, this lock on my door was trying to welcome me back home in its own way.

Finally, the lock slid into place and I was allowed entry.

"Home at last," I mumbled to no one in particular.

At first glance, I almost didn't recognize my own home. There were objects strewn about the room; almost as if a tornado had torn through the place.

"What the fu--" the whisper soon died upon my lips while the puzzle pieces of what happened, started to click into place.

That son of a bitch!

My entire condo was trashed; and not just trashed -- no, it was demolished.

It figures that John would be this foolish; this petty... This childish. And it was exactly the reason I felt justified in breaking up with him. Any of my previously lingering feelings of guilt, for sleeping with Bill prior to our breakup, began to evaporate with each passing second that I surveyed my living room. Of course, he went off and did this; I shouldn't be surprised really. I denied him what he wanted, and in return, he decided to leave me this one last parting shot. I couldn't help but to shake my head at such utter nonsense, while I pulled my bags inside and gingerly closed my front door behind me. A moment later, my phone started to going off once again -- reminding me that I had ignored a text message.

"Shit!" I quietly cursed myself for my forgetfulness, as I began to rummage through my purse once again. Once I finally clasped it within my grip, I pulled it out only to realize the text message was from Bill.

Two more weeks, beautiful. Fuck I miss you. I'll text/call when I can.

I couldn't help the smile that inched its way across my face, nor did I even care to stop it. At that moment, I realized just how much more I was growing to care for this man. Even while I stood here in my wrecked condominium, that my ex-boyfriend had messed up on his way out of my life, I still managed to smile and find solace -- simply because of him. When it boiled down to it, John had stopped making me this happy a long time ago; in fact by the end of our relationship -- I found myself feeling overstressed, exhausted and overwhelmed. With Bill though, it was different; I began to feel free, exhilarated and more importantly -- appreciated.

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