Little Cracks
Chapter 1 - After the Storm
I couldn't stand another second in that building; it felt like the walls were closing in. Breathing heavily, I plopped down on a chair, fighting back tears. Screw this, I was out. I hurriedly crammed my stuff into my bag and bolted for the elevator, jabbing the button like it owed me money.
Finally, the ding of the elevator broke the silence, and I rushed in, hitting the "close doors" button like my life depended on it. As the elevator descended, my heart rate barely slowed. When it hit the ground floor, I walked out, eyes dead ahead. The security guard called after me, but I had zero time for that. I shoved through the revolving door and was out.
Barely a few steps outside, the sky broke open like it was crying too. Awesome, right? No umbrella, and zero chance I was going back for one. I trudged on, letting the rain blend with the disappointment that had been my constant companion. I felt the crushing disappointment seep through my weary bones as I walked the cold, lonely street. Every attempt to bring a semblance of normality to my life had collapsed. Setbacks and failures had always been my constant companions, their weight steadily sinking me deeper into despair. But today felt like a rupture, as if the past few months had only been a preamble, a series of little cracks that finally broke open today. This particular abyss was a new low, born from a unique blend of failures that had converged in this moment.
So engrossed was I in my whirlpool of thoughts, I didn't see him until I crashed into him. And just like that, the heavens decided to add insult to injury; my bag tipped over, spilling its contents into the puddle. Even the papers I'd been clinging to were soaked and ruined. My life, in that moment, felt like those papers—mangled and discarded.
"I'm really sorry," the stranger said, sounding genuinely concerned.
I brushed him off, too absorbed in salvaging the wreckage of my stuff—and, metaphorically, my life.
"You'll catch a cold standing here," he pressed.
"Don't care," I mumbled.
"Fine. But I do," he insisted, gently pulling me out of the rain. "Coffee?"
For the first time, I looked at him. His jawline was seriously something, and his eyes—wow. What did I have to lose? "Sure, coffee sounds good."
I followed him to a nearby coffee shop.
"So... how does one go about having a conversation with someone they just met a few minutes ago?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.
"I think we should play it by ear."
"Hmm... What kind of coffee do you want? I could quickly grab some for both of us."
"That's totally unnecessary."
"I insist."
"I mean, I just met you."
"And I was the one who insisted we get coffee. So let's do this. What do you want?"
"Umm... a cappuccino, please."
"I'll be right back."
As I watched him saunter across the cramped space, I pondered my situation. What was I doing, following a stranger to get coffee? I looked out the window. The weather seemed like an apt metaphor for my life. Disasters often don't come with warnings; they manifest in the little things we take for granted. And then, suddenly, your world turns upside down.
"One tall soy latte for you!" the stranger exclaimed as he set the drinks on the table, spilling them a bit.
"You really didn't have to do this, but thanks."
"You are welcome," he grinned.
"So…"
"So…"
"I'm not sure what's next."
"You told us to play it by ear, so can I ask what a beautiful woman like you was doing outside in a thunderstorm with no umbrella?"
"Really? That's what you call playing by ear?" I teased.
He let out a loud, raucous laugh that made me want to join in.
"Ok, I can see you don't necessarily want to talk about that."
"Do we really have to have this conversation? I mean, you bought my drink, so I feel somewhat obligated, but honestly, I'm not in the mood to talk," I rambled, avoiding looking into his eyes.
"Whoa there, just being a good Samaritan."
"Yeah, thanks but no thanks."
We sat there awkwardly, not sure what to do next. Was I blowing this out of proportion? Let's try again.
"Hi, I'm Bella," I said, extending my hand.
"Edward," he replied, shaking my hand. A strange tingle ran through me.
"So, what were you doing out in the beautiful pouring rain this fantastic afternoon?" I asked sarcastically.
"Let's start with something simpler. Are you from Seattle?" he asked, sipping his drink.
"No, I wish. I come from a small town called Forks where days like this are the norm."
"You mean heavy thunderstorms?"
"Yes, if we had three days without rain, people would get antsy."
"Wow, I can't even imagine."
"Have you lived here all your life?"
"No, I'm actually from New York."
"What are you doing here then?"
"Work," he answered simply, shifting in his seat.
"This has been intriguing, but I have to go."
"It's still raining heavily, and you have no umbrella," he said matter-of-factly.
"Shit," I muttered.
"We have to keep working on this 'intriguing' conversation then," he said, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"I'm bored... you're bored, let's play 20 questions," I suggested.
"Whoa, whoa, I just met you!" he exclaimed.
"So you've finally realized that?" I asked, enjoying the banter.
"Twenty questions it is. Your favorite color?"
"I don't have one. I mean, why choose one? When I was younger, I lied because I didn't want the questions, but now I don't care," I said. Inside, I felt a mix of relief and vulnerability, opening up about even the small things.
"Wasn't expecting that detailed an answer, but I'm intrigued. Why?"
"I never really liked one color over the others," I said.
"Hmmm... makes sense. You?"
"Green. It's the color of my eyes, and they're incredibly unique," he said smugly.
"That sounds incredibly conceited."
Ignoring me, he continued, "Favorite food?"
"That's a hard one. There are so many choices."
"You can't make up your mind on anything, can you?"
"You've only asked me two questions."
"Fine. Favorite place?"
"It used to be my room, but that's changed. Now it's the park across from my apartment."
"I love being back home with my family. I'm a mama's boy, and I'm not ashamed of it," he chuckled.
"That's nice," I said flatly. "Actually, let's switch it up. If you could be invisible, where would you go?"
"I'd spy on people to see what they thought about me."
"I'm too cowardly for that. I'd just disappear for a while," I whispered.
"Look, it's stopped raining." What was it about him that made me want to tell him everything? I had never felt such a connection. I felt lighter than I had in days.
We stepped outside, the rain reduced to a drizzle. Soon, we stumbled upon a park. I took his uniquely designed umbrella.
"Hey," he whispered, his cold hands gently circling my waist.
"Hi," I smiled back.
"Your favorite childhood memory?" I saw we were still playing this game.
"They say 'uncertainty and mystery are the energies of life,' so let's keep my energy intact, thanks. You already know too much," I replied.
His laugh echoed, filling the space around us. I joined in, my joy bubbling to the surface for the first time in a long while. But a flicker of a thought reminded me that happiness felt foreign, almost threatening.
Panic set in. My breathing grew shallow. "I'm sorry, I have to go," I muttered, fleeing the park without looking back. The blare of a car horn snapped me back to reality. The weight of my past and present engulfed me as I walked, tears streaming down my face.