Chapter 4 #2
For so many years, she’d taken those moments for granted.
The simple rituals of preparing for a new school term—laying out uniforms, polishing shoes, and checking pencil cases were fully stocked.
Back then, it had felt like a routine. Now it felt like something sacred.
Because she had never imagined there would come a day when she would sit staring at a uniform with no body to fill it.
The new shoes beneath the wardrobe would never be broken in, there would never be the inevitable complaints about blisters or the way they pinched across the toes, and she would never be forced to listen to those irritated sighs in the first week ever again.
God, she would give anything for those dramatic declarations that everyone else’s shoes were more comfortable.
Instead, the uniform would remain exactly as it was. Pristine and unworn.
The only time it ever left the hanger now was when Ellie pulled it down to iron the blazer again.
And every time she did, it ended the same way.
The last time she’d pressed the fabric, she’d sat on this very bed and held the light grey blazer against her face, hoping that the scent would somehow magic itself out of thin air.
But it wasn’t, and she’d cried then, too.
She’d sobbed quietly as she’d arranged the pink pencil case on the desk by the window and carefully placed the grey satchel beside it—the one she’d chosen after nearly forty minutes of standing in the middle of John Lewis, imagining the way it would swing from those small shoulders on the walk to school.
Life would never be the same again.
Ellie would never be the same again.
She swallowed against the familiar hollow ache rising in her chest and forced herself to stand.
If the past year had taught her anything, it was that sitting here too long was dangerous.
Dwelling on what she’d lost only dragged her deeper into the spiral she’d spent so much energy climbing out of.
And she had climbed out of it…at least a little.
Last year had been worse; so much worse.
Better was perhaps too generous a word, but compared to the year before, she was coping. That counted as something.
Ellie took one last look at the uniform hanging on the wardrobe door before switching off the bedroom light.
Hot chocolate. That was the plan. It was her…
routine. With extra marshmallows piled high on top.
It was a small comfort, but on nights like this, it was enough to soften the silence that filled the house.
She would sit with her drink, gather her thoughts, and prepare herself for the start of another school year.
The doorbell rang just as she reached the hallway. Ellie frowned and glanced down at her watch. It was six o’clock. Who on earth would be visiting at this time on a Sunday evening?
She paused in front of the mirror in the hallway and leaned closer, examining her reflection. Her eyes were red, it was obvious she’d been crying, but whoever stood at the door would understand. She didn’t exactly attract strangers to her doorstep, and that wasn’t about to change now.
Squaring her shoulders, Ellie cleared her throat and opened the door. She hadn’t expected Alba to be standing there, but she was. “H-hi.”
“I’m sorry for just showing up here,” Alba said as she stepped forward and held out a small but beautiful bouquet of flowers. “I wanted to thank you again for Friday night. For listening and being a friend. I really appreciated it.”
Ellie’s throat welled with emotion as her fingertips brushed over the petals. They were delicate and soft. They were…thoughtful. Then her eyes lifted to Alba’s again. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
“They’re just a very small token of my appreciation. Nothing special.” Alba stepped back a little, hovering uncertainly between the doorway and the garden gate. “And I know we briefly spoke about it on Friday, but if you ever need someone to vent to, you have my number, and you know where I live.”
Ellie’s heart seemed to stop for a moment. Alba knew. Of course she did. God, she wished people would just leave it alone now. “Who told you?”
“I’m sorry?” Alba’s brows pulled together in confusion. “Who…told me about what?”
“Me.”
“I, um…I’m not sure what you mean.” Alba shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans, her expression open and uncertain as she met Ellie’s gaze.
Was she telling the truth? Ellie searched her face, trying to decide.
The longer she looked, the more it seemed that Alba genuinely had no idea what Ellie was talking about. “I’ll just go. See you tomorrow.”
“Alba, wait.” Ellie stepped down onto the garden path and exhaled a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. Would you like to come in for hot chocolate?”
Alba lifted a brow. “Hot chocolate? Is that a Sunday night kind of thing?”
“It is, actually.” Ellie hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “Fancy it?”
“That…would be lovely.” Alba’s smile widened as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “Gorgeous house, by the way.”