No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

The guy looked rugged and tough, kind of intimidating.

All the guys I had been around were clean-cut, always in shirts and ties, suits and coats. But this guy gave off a vibe like he just stepped out of a movie about prison life.

I instinctively tightened my grip on my backpack, remembering the pepper spray and pocket knife Fanny had insisted on packing for me.

But before I could think about reaching for them, the guy had started the car without saying a word. And that look he gave me, what was that about? I didn't get it, but my heart, only starting to feel at ease in this new city, began to race again.

Because of my wariness, I didn't even take the time to appreciate the cityscape. Once the car stopped and I paid my fare, I couldn't wait to get off. Watching the car drive away, I finally sighed in relief.

It was already 10 PM. Coming at that hour probably wasn't the best idea. I could have waited until daylight to look for the house my parents used to live in, but now that I was already there, there was no point in second-guessing myself.

The place before me looked old and rundown, with crumbling walls and uneven pavement full of potholes and puddles.

Dragging my suitcase through these streets was a nightmare. I had to carry it. The address my dad left was 42 Old Alley. I checked every house number until I found it, complete with a "For Rent" sign out front. Who in their right mind would rent a place like that?

I scoffed internally but walked in anyway, finding myself in a small courtyard surrounded by houses, a tree at the center. It was too dark to make out the details, but I knew it was an oak tree growing up alongside him.

"Looking for someone or a place to stay?" A voice called out, belonging to an elderly lady with silver hair, sizing me with a cane.

"I'm looking to rent," I said, pointing toward the room on the eastern side, "That one."

My dad had told me about the layout once. There were three rooms, with a central living room for guests and family time, a kitchen to the west, and a bedroom to the east.

After my parents moved away, they

sold the property. It had been remodeled since then, erasing any traces of the past, but I wanted to stay in the bedroom where they had lived if only to feel closer to them.

"That room's taken. How about this one?"

pd lady suggested,

to a smaller room neve

to

I wanted.

I didn't respond immediately, still sitting in the other room.

Seeing my hesitation, she explained,

"The room you want is old. The one I'm suggesting is newer. It's

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a young lady like you. Let me you." NôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.

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She led me inside, and the room was clean, the walls freshly painted.

"It looks nice, but I'd still go for the other one," I admitted, being as stubborn as I am.

The old lady glanced at me. "You could wait for the tenant to return and ask if they want to switch with you." "Okay," I agreed.

Whether I got to stay in that specific room, staying there was a given because of the oak tree that still stood. I paid the old lady, took some hot water she had boiled for me back to my room, and then my phone rang.

I thought it might be Fanny checking in, but I froze when I saw the caller ID.

Someone I hadn't spoken to in forever was calling me on a number that remained unused for a decade.