Whispers in the Woods Pt. 03

One morning, a few weeks after all that, as I sat at my desk in the office ready to start working, a new email came up on my screen. The subject line caught my eye, and sank on my chair as I read the worst words one can read in this awful economy: "Employment Termination Notice."

What.

Confused, I opened the email, revealing a cold and impersonal message outlining my termination. Some bullshit about cutting costs. I looked around me and judging by the faces of other people, I was the only one. A couple of minutes after I've read the e-mail, my PC shut down.

- Come on, you guys think I will steal your info on a fucking farming pay to win game? - I spewed loudly, getting up and holding myself, so I don't break everything in my line of sight - You know what? Fuck this place, man.

My coworkers started talking between each other, trying to understand it all. As I was getting my things in a box gritting my teeth, Dave calls me.

- Hey, babe. How is work going? - his upbeat voice did something with me and I just broke up crying.

- I... Just got fired, Dave.

- What? Why? Are you ok? - he seemed legitimately worried about me.

- I don't know, Dave.

It came from higher up - I tried to clean up my tears, while I sat on the stupid red bean bag I used as a chair - They're restructuring, or something. It's just... Everything is a mess right now.

- Get your things ready, I will be there in a few, ok?

In exactly ten minutes, Dave arrived in his jeep, his face deeply concerned. He wrapped me in a comforting hug, offering a solace I knew I desperately needed.

- Wanna talk 'bout it? - he asked, all gentle.

- Not now. Can you... Just...

- Home?

- Your home. Please. I don't want to go home. Not right now - Dave nodded, understanding my unspoken need for some time to digest all that.

The drive to his house was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the void of my thoughts. Once inside, the weight of what had just happened began to lift, and Dave led me to the cozy living room, making me sit on his brown leather sofa. He whips up some hot cocoa for us, and we sat in silence for a while.

After a while, I spoke, breaking the stillness.

- I... It's that... I never saw it coming, Dave. It's not just about the job. It feels like everything is slipping away for a while now. First my dad and now this - Dave's hand found mine.

- You're not alone in this, Alex. You know that, right? - I looked into his eyes with genuine gratitude.

- Why are you being so good to me, Dave? I mean, we just started seeing each other, and now I trow all of this in your lap... - He sighed, a momentary pause before he spoke.

- Alex, I care about you. I really do - His words touched something within me, and a hint of a smile appeared at the corners of my lips.

- You're too good for me, you know that? - Dave chuckles, his eyes never leaving mine.

- Or maybe you're just underestimating yourself - He paused for a moment - I want you to know, you're not a burden. You're someone I care about deeply. I'd love for you to live here for a while.

- I don't want to make things harder and pricier for you. I need to figure this out on my own - I hesitated.

- I can handle it all. I just want to take care of you, be close to you. Don't you want that too? - He reached for me, his hand finding mine.

- I do, but don't you think this is a bit too soon for us? -- I let out a conflicted sigh.

- Trust me. I can make things work. I will protect you.

His words carried a promise of a sanctuary. A refuge from the tempest of uncertainty that raged within me. His words were like a whispered promise, resonating with the silent hope that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't as alone as I thought.

- Okay, you win - I whispered, looking to my cup. Dave gently squeezed my hand.

I kind of acted on impulse, but something told me it was the right decision, after I saw his face as he slept by my side that day.

As the moving day approached, I was getting more and more desperate to get things going. My house started feeling like a prison, and I was spending more and more time online to cope with that. I had spent countless nights at his house and at the cabin, but the idea of officially sharing a home felt like the beginning of a new chapter in our lives.

The morning of the move arrived, and I found myself packing the last of my belongings in the beat-up apartment I called home, while I waited for Dave to get there. Boxes were scattered around, filled with memories. Some good, some terrible. The walls, once filled with my old punk rock posters and pictures, now were empty.

Dave arrived early, his Jeep parked outside. We loaded the boxes into the car, many... Many times. You never know the actual fuck ton of stuff you have until you have to move. To think I came to the apartment with just my clothes and a sleeping bag to my name.

As the day unfolded, my books found a place on shared shelves, my punk posters were promptly stored away (I had gone over that phase years ago), and the aroma of a home-cooked meal wafted through the air while I was almost dozing off on the couch.

You know what? I can see myself getting used to this.