Stranded | Enemies to Forbidden Lovers ✔️

Chapter 25

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Chapter 25

I lie in my bed, the feeling of my double topped bed in addition to the series of pillows expertly placed feels as if I'm laying on a cloud. A soft cloud that any moment could envelop me and I can't get out again. Two hours, I've laid here with tear-stained eyes and a dry mouth.

"Hello, Ms.Alice."

I pull the covers down to see who the feminine voice came from. My mother doesn't allow many people in our bedrooms. Only two people outside of usual houseworkers. Eobard and the specialized cleaning lady. But, this voice sounds nothing like her. She lacks a thick Russian accent and a certain disdain in her voice for me and my family.

Her face is pretty. But, her clothes, more specifically the maid uniform ages her. I can tell she's my age, maybe a few years older than I am. Mother must have hired her after everything, it's hard to maintain the house.

We needed a replacement.

"Hello," I mutter.

I don't care to speak to her. There's no point. She does work, work that doesn't include my permission on anything other if you can come in and the answer to that is always no. Please do not come into my room. Not now, not ever for a very long long time.

She says nothing. She clenches the fabric that is pressed against her body. "I'm happy you're safe and sound Ms.Alice. Your mother was very distraught when she hired me and um, she never gave up hope."

I remain quiet, while the sounds of Charlie's wagging tail fill the quiet room. Her shoes clank as she approaches him. She runs a hand over his golden fur, "he's very beautiful. How old is he?"

"About the same age as to how long I've been gone."

"Oh, so about a year then? Is that correct?" I don't say a word. "Would you like me to take him to get his shots and things? It'll be a load off of your shoulders."

"If you want," I mutter. I bring the cover back over my body, seeking solace in the warmth of blankets. In a place of ultimate comfort, that I once knew. I still feel uncomfortable. The room is too cold compared to the acclimated warm temperature I've slept in.

When I close my eyes, I can still hear the sounds of the waves hitting the shore. Like a loud rumble, one that used to shake my very spine. The door closes and I'm left alone once again. Without the sounds of Charlie in the corner filling the quiet room. Leaving me alone with my dark thoughts and now painful memories.

Memories that include the weekend ice cream dates with Eobard. His witty humor that could kick me out of any bad spell I was in.

God, times like this make me wish I could talk to Joseph. He would tell me it was okay and give me some solace. But, today is not a good day for us to talk. He's with his wife, his family. Seeking refuged in each other's arms. Loving one another, he has no time meeting with me or helping me with my grief.

It's not his problem.

Night came quickly, time flies when you're laying in nothingness. Just a cloud of white thousand count sheets and imported comforters. The pain I feel in my bowels overwhelms the need to stay planted in this spot.

Three minutes is all it takes for me to empty my bowls and sit in my window seal. The stars aren't nearly as bright here. I don't feel like I can reach and touch thousands of stars in this bedroom. This is not my island, this back to reality.

I am home in a smoke-filled city. In a town that never sleeps. Taxi cabs in the background, the sounds of drunken young adults roaming the streets, and a dog barking. I cover my ears and stare up, imaging I was back.

Peace, a bit of peace was there.

Peace of mind, my ignorant thinking that my father and Eobard were still alive. That Joseph could possibly stay with me all day and all night. Filling my mind with a bit of bliss that comes with him talking to me. I slide through the window and now I'm planted on the roof.

I look down to see the pool. Empty...the pool was never empty. Eobard in secret would swim laps in this pool every night for exercise. He thought I never knew, but I did. I would count the number of laps he would do. How long his breaks were and study the different strokes he would do.

For a large majority of my life, he would do that. I'm such an idiot. All the counting, the memorizing, and I never came to think as to why he suddenly stopped. Why after twenty years he stopped swimming.

He stopped swimming because he couldn't. He couldn't allow the extraneous exercises on his body anymore. Not because he was old, which I first thought. It was because if he did too much. If too much stress was placed on him. He could die.

He did die.

A girl, who he saw as his own was missing at sea. With no hope, and he couldn't take it and he died. Eobard...you didn't deserve to leave this world because of me. You were a grandfather now, something that you've wished for since you sent your son off to start his life.

A poor man who became a butler, and caretaker to me. His one wish of growing old with children around his smiling, calling him grandpa ended when I got stranded.

Eobard, I'm so sorry this happened to you. You didn't deserve to die like that, with an image of me drowning probably stuck in your head.

I lay my body in the room. The feeling of concrete, small rocks that coat my body brings me more comfort than that bed.

Although, I was on an island alone with one other person.

I've never felt so lonely here in the city with millions of people.