No More Waiting, She Chooses Love
Chapter 34

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, replaceing 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?" the old lady suggested, pointing to a smaller room next to the one 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 nicer for a young lady like you. Let me show you."

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.