Why Can't You Love Me? || Timothée Chalamet

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When we had finished our breakfast, we left the cafeteria and took off towards Timothée's house. It felt weird even thinking about it, that we were going to his house and live there. How surreal wasn't that?

We were silent the entire ride there. I didn't know if it was because mom didn't have anything to say or if she just wanted it to be silent. I knew why I didn't say anything, though, and that was because I was a nervous wreck. I couldn't stop shaking the entire ride, and I was surprised mom didn't notice it and said something about it. Maybe she didn't want to make things even worse.

It took us ten minutes to drive to the house. It was located right outside the city, making the environment cozier and quieter. The building was pretty massive, to say the least. It was a white, two-story house with big windows on the bottom floor, and had a porch that looked like it was taken from a movie. The yard was massive too with big, beautiful trees and a freshly cut lawn. I loved it.

My mouth fell open at the sight and it was impossible to close it. This was surreal. I could never have even dreamed of being in such a beautiful house. There was no denying that whoever lived here had a lot of money.

I looked over at mom who seemed just as shocked as I did. Her eyes were wide and she was staring at the building without even blinking. "This is it?" I asked, barely believing it.

She nodded slowly. "It's... It's the address she gave me."

I was quiet for a second before saying; "What did we do to deserve this?"

"I have no idea," she replied, shaking her head in disbelief. "I have no idea at all, honey."

With that said, we hopped out of the car and grabbed our bags and suitcases from the trunk before walking up to the beautiful porch. It even had a bench and a swing hanging in the ceiling. It was that big, and I couldn't stop staring in awe.

Mom knocked on the door twice. It didn't take more than five seconds until it swung open from the other side, and a woman the same age as mom came into view, her brown hair falling to her shoulders and her blue eyes glistening with joy at the sight of us. There was no denying that this was Timothèe's mom judging by her beauty and the resemblance.

"Hey, guys! Come on in, come on in," she ushered, waving her hand for us to get inside the house.

We did as told and I shut the door behind us. My heart was beating uncontrollably in my chest, and I could feel my hands getting sweaty by the second. I just hoped I wouldn't have to shake hands with her, or else I would embarrass myself.

"Trisha, I'm so glad you're finally here and brought your daughter." Her eyes settled on me. "What's your name, love?" She asked with a smile, walking over to give me a hug.

I was taken aback by her intimacy. Could this woman get any nicer and warm-hearted? I had never been this warmly welcomed in my life. "I'm... I'm Julie," I said when she had pulled back, feeling my face heat up by my stammering. I was really in need to take a deep breath to get myself together. This was embarrassing.

"Lovely name for a beautiful girl," she winked.

She was not making it easy for my face to get back to its normal color. If anything, it turned even redder by her words. "Thanks," I mumbled.

"Alright, how about I show you guys around? The bedrooms are upstairs and I think I know the perfect room for you," Nicole said, looking at me hopefully.

I bit my lip and gave her a smile in return. Mom, on the other hand, shrugged off her jacket and slipped off her shoes before grabbing her suitcase. "I don't know how to thank you enough for this, Nicole. You're literally a life-saver," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.