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Chapter 5

Mateo kicked a stray stone off the sidewalk as he slowed his pace down to a strut. His breath came in heavy puffs, and he couldn’t feel his heartbeat from the bass of his earphones.

He stopped and settled on his favorite park bench close to the huge mahogany which often served as a shade. Just a few more miles and he’d be home.

A gentle smile stretched his lips as he recalled Brianna’s perplexed expression when he informed her of his plan to go for a run. It was against his normal schedule which consisted of only morning runs, but Mateo knew he needed this today.

He was acting weird lately. He knew. 

Richard had pointed it out and Brianna always watched him with keen suspicious eyes. He zoned out a lot, often lost in his mind.

Not to mention, the repetitive dreams he’d been having for some time now. Who was the woman that repeatedly appeared in his dreams?

Mateo never saw her face. It was always her back and her long, shimmering, flowing blonde hair. No matter how familiar she felt, he could’ve sworn he’d never met her before, but the emotions he felt whenever he woke up put him on edge. 

Longing, anguish, and sorrow. Longing for what? His guess was as good as any.

Being utterly clueless and not being able to figure it out put him on edge. Hence the complaints from his best friend, and his sister’s increased surveillance.

Crisp cool air swept over the park and cooled some of the fire running through his veins. He took a swig from the bottled water Brianna forced him to take on his run; he needed it after all.

Mateo's eye fastened on a black cat that suddenly came into his view and he paused his music. The cat’s black fur shone in the sun. And It stared at him with beady black eyes, as if trying to decide if he was a foe or a friend. The cat hissed when he tried getting closer to pet it, and he chuckled with his arms up in surrender.

 “I mean no harm feisty one.”

The cat just stared at him, untrusting.

It had neat, healthy fur. And from the golden collar wrapped around its neck, it wasn’t a stray cat, he figured. The owner was probably searching for him.

“Mikky!”

Mateo winced. A woman’s screechy voice echoed in his ear. She drew closer, her steps frantic, and let out a relieved breath when she spotted the cat under the potted plant.

She threw him a wary glance before walking away, the cat in her arms. The name of the cat was truly an irony.

Mateo felt his phone vibrate. “Hey, Bri.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m almost home.” He smiled standing up from the bench. She always bossed him around when she was worried. He would gladly be bossed around. Hell, he’d do anything for his little sister.

“Okay,” she said.  

After the call as Mateo stood up to leave, he emptied his bottled water on the potted plant near where the cat had been hiding. The plant looked like it needed the water more than he did. With his thoughts back on a certain blonde woman, he jogged home.

After he got home, Mateo took a shower and joined his sister in the kitchen, munching on the cookies she just baked.

“Someone moved into Mrs. Lee's apartment today,” Brianna said, taking another batch of cookies out of the oven.

“Really?” He asked to feign interest, though he couldn’t care less. He was not the neighborly kind of guy.

“The new neighbor is really cute,” Brianna started, “I baked some cookies and I was thinking we could give them to her as a housewarming gift?”

“Go alone Bri, I’m not interested.” Mateo groaned, his sister wasn’t tired of playing matchmaker for him.

Scarlett sighed dragging her feet to her newly arranged bedroom. Fatigue lined her face and she was still breathing hard from all the work she had just done. She organized every single part of her new condo except the room that would serve as her art studio in under four hours, though it was already clean and furnished when she came in. Finally, she collapsed on the bed. She was exhausted but fulfilled.

Four different paintings lined the walls around her bed, each distinct one telling a different story. She stared down at her hands, which to her were pretty much useless at this point, with her brows furrowed. How useful would a hand that couldn’t paint be?

Kelvin took painting away from her, the way he took away the light in her eyes. He was a sadistic asshole who didn’t like seeing her happy if he wasn’t the source of her happiness. Sometimes, she thought about how different her life would’ve been had she not met him.

Now she was too scared to paint.

Scarlett shook her head, dispersing the memories that threatened to swamp her. 

She wasn’t that scared little girl anymore, she’d taken charge of her life when she left home, and she wouldn’t allow her past to drag her down anymore. Organizing her art studio was going to have to be later.

She looked around the room once more with a tired smile. The brown crochet curtain she’d gotten from an artisan in a market in Japan stood out from the pale but warm colors of her room. The rest of the apartment was perfect, and she’d turned it into a home, just like she always did any abode of hers during her travels.

At 26 she’d already visited 25 countries. Some of which she couldn’t even remember their names. She was the kind of person who just went wherever the breeze took her.

Now she was ready to settle in one place for a while, and build her career in the one place she loved, the museum. Her lips pulled into a proud smile when she recalled how easy it was for her to get her new job as a curator.

Maybe they hired her because of her travel experience, and the fact that she’d visited more than 80 museums in different countries. Frankly, she’d visited more than that, but she didn’t keep count anymore.

The museum was Scarlett’s sacred place, her guilty pleasure. She loved the museum so much as a child her mom had once joked about her living in it. To her then, it wasn’t a bad idea. 

There was just something about museums that soothed her soul.

Scarlett hugged herself as she scrolled through her messages. Nobody had bothered to text her, friends or family. 

She’d traveled the world for 3 years and she didn’t even have anyone to welcome her back home. The familiar feelings of loneliness started to creep in.

She sent a quick text to her mom, letting her know she arrived safe and sound and dropped her phone on the nightstand. She fought the onslaught of memories that wanted to engulf her, she wasn’t that little girl anymore.

Scarlett had always been quite the loner. While friends discussed their summers or exchanged lunchboxes, she was always in the corner eating her lunch alone. Always alone.

It got to a point where she just accepted it and stopped embarrassing herself by trying to make friends or fit in. But accepting something doesn’t make it okay. 

Sometimes she felt it, like now.

Scarlett sighed as she thought of Brianna. She wondered if it would be weird to knock on her door. She looked nice and friendly and she wouldn’t mind making a new friend if the invisible force that chased people away from her didn’t act up.

As Scarlett contemplated the odds of visiting her neighbor, she questioned her sudden urge to not be alone; she had always been okay with being alone. Was it a phase?

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