And if there’s anything that I want more in life, it is to read Heath better than I read books.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, changing the subject. “You only ate fries in lunch.”
“I’m okay,” I say.
He shakes his head and makes me sit on the couch. “I’m going to grab some snacks, you open those bags and start on the bracelets.”
In a second he is out of the door as if he knew that I’d protest and ask him to not get me anything.
A smile appears on my lips.
I’m not going to find a guy like Heath again in my life. My mother was wrong. People who are special don't come into your life so often. They are like shooting stars. Gone in a blink of an eye.
Try not falling in love with him.
I can do it.
I stand up to move to the floor when something catches my eye. There are cardboard boxes sitting in front of the large flat screen and TV unit where his gaming console is.
Curiosity piques my interest but I dismiss it. If he wants to tell me what's inside he will.
“Do you like stir fry and rice?” Heath closes the door, holding a large tray. “If you want something else, I can order takeout.”
“No, it’s fine. I like stir fry.”
Heath sets down the try on the table and joins me on the floor.
“You look sad.”
I start to deny but stop myself.
Talk to him more about yourself.
“It’s my favourite. Mom used to make it for me on nights she’d be at home. It was the best.” My smile is sad when I add, “I haven’t had it in months. She’s rarely home and also, Dad spends time with her now.”
I’m not jealous, just upset that things are changing and I can’t keep up. Mom and I used to be so close and now it’s like there’s a wall between us and I can’t reach her anymore. With Dad moving back home, she’s gotten even more far away from me.
I know she can be strict and manipulative at times, but I still love her and want her. The reason is she stuck with me all those years when no one did. With her I didn’t feel truly alone. I felt like I had someone.
“You sound like you miss her.” Heath says, seeing right through me.
I nod. “I do. I miss what we had isn’t there anymore.”
He watches me, trying to read me like he always does.
I flush under his scrutinizing gaze and clear my throat. Looking around, I search for a reason to distract him, and that pile of boxes catches my attention.
I have no right to ask him what’s inside those, but I also can’t keep wondering. The last time he had a box in his room it contained books.
My favourite books. The Harry Potter series.
Luckily I had those slid under my bed, so they escaped Dad’s wrath. But the books he did destroy were those that accompanied me for years. I read them whenever I’d feel alone. They held more value to me. And now, they’re gone. I can never put them back together.
I remember we ordered books on his Amazon account. I didn’t ask him about it afterwards and I wonder if they arrived or not.
“You should eat. It’s getting cold.” Heath reminds me.
I start on the food and he does too.
