Eden Andrews, a girl with a troubling past for one purpose in life. That of moving away from the ghosts of his past.
Her life will change diametrically when Eden moves to Boston to take classes at her famous university. She will finally have the cha...
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- Thank you. I whisper while Jake parks his car in front of the narrow cottage in an almost desert environment. No houses surrounds it.
Jake invites me to give an explanation for my sudden thank you by cutting the engine of the pickup.
- Thank you for defending me. I gaze at my feet, because I'm afraid to meet his gaze probably busy judging me or cataloging me as "weak"
I am still amazed by the revelation of Denise. I thought I could face my father without encountering too much trouble now, but the anguish I felt in his presence is still there. Will it disappear one day?
- It's all me. I have a gift to defend people at the right time. He just answers me sarcastically. I have the strong impression that his reply sounds like a reproach to his own person.
A serenity settles in the car. Who would have thought it would be this rude boy who would give me that feeling with his mere presence? Not me. The situation is so ironic, even incoherent. The improbability of the relationship we maintain makes it all the more authentic.
- Well you decide to show me this famous place that made you happy as a child and teenager? He says impatient as he opens his door.
Despite the excitement I feel at the idea of discovering this little house that has protected for years my child's soul and my teenage heart, I feel empty, without strength and again betrayed. My fatigue overwhelms me so much that I don't even have the strength to open the door. Jake, meanwhile, is already outside on the verge of removing our luggage from the trunk of the car. He then deposits them on the landing entirely made of wood.
- Eden, move. He is protesting, waiting for me on the threshold of the house. For my part, I feel my head become gradually heavy. Is it possible to feel exhausted to such a degree? Even after insomnia, I do not feel like that.
I see, not far from me, Jake release the bags on the ground and move towards the car. Thanks to his large size, he makes only a few steps to join me. Then he opens the door with a quick gesture and asks me:
-I warn you, I won't carry you. He warns me while still settling in the vehicle. I know he cares about my condition. Otherwise, why would he come back? I'm starting to know the phenomenon.
- I ... I feel really tired. My eyes close alone and I struggle to answer him.
- Okay. Wait a second. You will put your arms around my neck and I will help you to go inside. As soon as he finishes his sentence, he executes his plan and I follow him.
- Shit, you're heavy in fact.
- shut up and help me instead of wasting oxygen for nothing. I reply by pointing at him.
Jake supports me as promised inside the cottage and I head straight for the bedroom to slumber. I don't know what the tattooed plans to do during my physical absence in the salon, but I do not care. I'm too tired to worry about it.
