𝕥𝕠𝕠 𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖 • 𝕞.𝕔

chapter 21

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A week after, it was done. A decision had been made.

This was the official start of a new chapter in my life; and although it felt as if it was too early, everything had gone so fast these past few months that I just chose not to question things anymore, because it would inevitably result into overthinking, and torturing myself.

I couldn't start to even think about the change that it would be in Michael's life; changing from a flat in the borough of Camden, to join me in Hackney. Two opposite sides of town, but north side of the river, still.

Michael had moved most of his stuff in my apartment, and now, we could say that we had... That we more or less lived together. 

It was great to know that he would be here most of the time, but it also happened to be strange to know that I would have to live with someone by my side, every second of the day. At this very moment, I was thankful that Michael's work took most of his time. Being a solitary person, who enjoyed my space, I liked that we wouldn't be always next to each other, no matter what we would do.

Obviously, Michael had chosen not to give up his apartment. It was his own, he had paid for it, and it was obvious he didn't want somebody else to take his place. And we had both agreed on living together in here, but to keep the flat in Camden, for our own sake. I wasn't being too positive on the fact that we would stay together for ever and ever and ever, and if something ever was to happen, at least there would be a solution.

"This is the last box," Michael said, entering the apartment. I could see his skin sweating a little on his forehead, and his cheeks were a bright shade of red. "Lee, you could've helped me."

"You literally refused for me to carry anything heavy!"

"You're pregnant," he rolled his eyes. "Okay."

He put the box on the ground, and he stood there for a second, to look at all the mess that was now in my space. Boxes, and boxes, and boxes- never would I have imagined he had so many things with him he needed to take to move. 

It was making me content, satisfied that he was trusting us, our relationship enough and that he had been mellow and had chosen what would be best for the baby. The flat in Dalston was perfect, and the main reason why I liked that apartment was because I had always imagined myself in it, even if I lived to be a hundred years old.

In a corner of the room was his guitars; about seven of them. I didn't know what was the point of having so many, but I guessed that they represented something sentimental. He seemed attached to them. On the sofa, boxes full of his clothes, and shoes. Then, other things, photograps, CDs, DVDs- there was everything you could dream of here.

"Are you done?"

"Yeah, I'll just need to park my car somewhere. Do you even drive?"

I crossed my arms. "Don't be stupid. This is London, no one can drive."

"Yeah," he replied, not completely convinced. "Then I will park the car, it's in the middle of the road right now. Lee, babe, thank God you live on the second floor, I would've died walking up to the fourth floor. Okay, I'll be right back."

He was talking fast, and seemed pretty excited about it all. I nodded, and proceeded to gather enough strength and energy to move some of the clothes boxes in my bedroom, that was now ours. How amazing and unusual would it be to have someone sleeping by my side every night from now on, in a bed that had been representing loneliness for far too long. I moved them for a few minutes, but eventually sat back down. I was strongly bothered and exasperated about the way I got tired so easily. Standing up was getting harder, the belly had gotten so much heavier; I had to buy brand new clothes, and I was feeling uneasy most of the time. Even taking a shower had become a struggle, my big stomach hardly fitting inside of it.