WHAT COMES AFTER THE END OF THIS

Chapter 72

Chapter 72

Yrene's PoV

The flight to Oxford had been uneventful; Ross had slept on my shoulder the whole time while every girl had somehow tried to catch his eye, or give him a wink but I didn't have to worry about Aelin as I knew my brother was head over heels for her.
"Well, I guess this is all then?"
"Yeah, I think this is it." We were standing in Jason's penthouse apartment, correction: I was standing in Jason's penthouse apartment while my peasant brother was dragging my boxes to their respective places along with my suitcases.
"You're such a brat Yrene, could you not have helped me with these?"
"Raymond would have never made me do it!" I say, feigning offence with a hand on my heart.
"You and your Raymond excuses have been getting on my last nerve since we arrived." He mimics a few times I said 'Raymond would have never' since we came and I punch his shoulder for it.

I hadn't let it show but I had taken a shitload of courage to walk into this luxurious apartment, where the strong smell of Jason's Chanel Bleu still lingered, the air thick with the must caused by months of involuntary neglect and every inch being lined by distinct memories of him; at one point I had almost felt like he would pop out from behind one of the many shelves that lined his walls and scare me. But he didn't. The floor to ceiling wood panelled glass window gave a marvellous view of Oxford County and I could picture myself sitting here, a book in my lap and a steaming cup of coffee in my hands, looking at the cityscape; analysing my life. Now, breaking out of my thoughts, I had to muster up the same kind of strength to open the door to his bed chamber, the very chamber that would have been ours in a short time. However, gritting my teeth and steeling my nerves I push open the heavy, cherrywood door by the-too cold for my liking-brass handle. Not a moment later had I stepped in than the smell of pine forests, Chanel Bleu, paper, ink and clean male tantalised my nostrils; Jason's smell, his aura was still well preserved in this chamber as if it were a shrine made in honour of his loving memory. The chamber, to say the bare minimum, was huge, fit for a King; here too, the walls were covered with bookshelves and a window with only one will free of the books he owned and every visible inch of that wall was covered in pictures of us; Jason and I alone in selfies or shots taken by my friends and Ross, Jason and I with my friends, Ross, Raymond and our families, there was even one from our formal engagement ceremony and at its bottom, in his neat scrawl was a scribbled note, 'because she looked pretty.' Tears brimmed my eyes and soon enough started to trek down my cheeks, they continued tumbling as my eyes scanned every single picture, ranging from our childhood to now and the astronomical sense of longing hit me with full force. I miss Jason Dawfield so much I feel like it could kill me. But now I was here and I would make sure to make him as happy as possible, if he was looking down at me, I would fulfil his dreams and cherish his memory forever. It was a promise I had made to myself a few weeks ago and now it was a promise that I made to my Jason too.
~*~
Ross had taken the guest bedroom while I had decided to conquer the master bedroom. From Jason's walk-in closet I had picked out one of his many black v neck shirts and hung my clothes on the extra racks; pulling the shirt on and securing my bun in place I climbed into his humongous bed thinking of all those times the retard had made fun of me for having such a huge bed. Idiot. With the warmth of his memory encompassing me wholly within the sheets, I fall asleep.

Settling in and groceries are done over the next few days and before either of us can process it, it is time for Ross to leave.
"You sure you don't want me to come see you off at the airport?"
"Yes, Nene," he takes me by the shoulders and looks directly into my eyes, a gesture he knows makes me trust him, "I will be fine. I don't want you to loiter around in taxis so soon."
"Sure, right?"
"Yes, darling I'll be okay. Promise."
Still not convinced by the whole situation, reluctantly, I nodded.
"Okay. If you say so." I add a shrug at the end before he pulls me in a tight hug.
"I love you sister and I when I say I will flip the world for you, I very well mean it. So if anything goes wrong you ring me up."
If I had a dollar for every time the men in my life had said this to me I would be one rich woman, not that I wasn't loaded already.
"Yes, yes, I know."
"Good. Now I'm leaving okay?"
Although he was addressing me with that remark I knew he was in reality trying to bring himself to leave me here and so I give him one last kiss on his cheek before following him out of the apartment and to the lobby where his luggage was waiting. Wiping our tears we said our last goodbyes and he left and just like that I was left alone in an unknown area with my thoughts.
~*~
I spent my days settling into the apartment and building a routine for myself; I would wake up, exercise, have a small breakfast of a bowl of fruits and then go around the town familiarising with the scape thinking about how in a few days the mental counselling sessions would begin as would the semester; I was excited but most of all I was scared. New beginnings were hard for me, they always had been.

I hadn't done much in my life that I could say I was proud of but my one achievement that I was truly proud of was that ever since I had returned from the hospital-as tempting as it had been- I had not even touched my blade the same way I hadn't taken any form of pill to aid my sleeping and perhaps that was partially because Jason's smell and aura helped to calm me down every time I awoke with a start.
~*~

Even though it was just the end of August, it was starting to get even chillier and so a pale blue cashmere cardigan tied across my shoulders over a my white lace cropped shirt and matching chiffon pleated skirt, hair in a messy bun, brown Gucci shades perched on my nose and feet in my plain white Tory flats, I left the apartment to attend my first day of classes and rehab. The lady at the woman in one of the ancient alcoved offices handed me a hard copy of my schedule, as per my request. As one can guess, it was hectic as fuck, locating the lecture halls in the ancient building was one thing but having to go from one end to the other in five minutes was another. By the time the day was over I was finally glad to be heading back to my apartment, the apartment that would have been our home, Jason and I's.
"I'll see you tomorrow, then?"
"Yes, of course you will."
"Great. Bye, Elizabeth."
"Bye, Yrens. Have a good day."
"You too." I give my new friend a friendly smile before we walk our separate ways home.

As soon as I get back, I lay sprawl on the couch and rest my eyes for a bit, setting an alarm for five thirty, so that I have enough time to get to the centre by six fifteen.

I wake up to an obnoxiously and antagonising blaring from my phone; my beloved alarm. Before I can throw the gadget at one of the cream walls, I remember where I'm supposed to be in a few minutes.

I style my hair into yet another bun, swap my skirt for a pair of super skinny jeans, my Tory flats for Chuck Taylor's and instead of knotting my cardigan across my shoulders, I actually wear it with a small Fendi bag across my chest. I leave as soon as I'm done with reapplying my lipstick , instead of taking the bus I decide to walk and while at it, I can vividly imagine what it would be like to have held Jason's hand as we walked through these streets, living our lives together.
"I miss you, Jase. I really do."
I send a silent prayer-to the very God I haven't believed fully in for a long time- to bless his soul and give him a good house in heaven so I can live there with him when, if I get sent there. Maybe it's my subconscious or maybe it's someone else saying the words to someone else, either way, I hear someone tell me that that they miss me too and I take comfort in that thought as I walk to the building.

It's like one of those ancient castles that line Oxford County, with an addition of a sign that reads in large, cursive letters,
"Rehabilitation for You."
I ring the bell and wait patiently at the doorstep when I'm instantly greeted by a kind looking lady who seems to be at least in her late fifties.
"Welcome miss..."
"Yrene. Yrene Jones." I reply giving her a warm smile that mirrors her own before clasping her outstretched hand gently.
Without wasting another second of our precious time, the lady whom, I learn, is called Mrs. Winchester, leads me into the huge, warmly lit and sophisticatedly painted building. After a few minutes of walking, we reach a spacious hall, in which's gaping maw is an immaculately formed circle of chairs on which about a dozen people are seated.
Mrs. Winchester, who I now know is the housekeeper for those who opt to live in the centre, soon leaves us to call upon Ms. Rebecca, the counsellor and all of us sit there, awkwardly, looking anywhere but into one another's eyes for fear that we might, perhaps find a gaze similar to our own.