Chapter 47: Chapter 47

Even though my eyes are watery and I'm still clinging to his body, he doesn't seem to want to say anything or act in any way. All he does is frown, probably wondering what is the strange cause of my presence in his house, as if he does not even care about my condition. As you would with an intruder, something that, if I think about it ... maybe it has a certain level of logic. What makes me different from an intruder after having done what I did to him? Who am I now? Nobody, a stranger, with the difference that one does not hate strangers, simply ignores them and what he feels for me now ... is pure hatred.

The simple fact of thinking about those things and seeing him at the same time, still like a statue without feelings, causes me a mixture of weakness and resentment. I let go of his shoulders and head towards the door, brushing his shoulder, escaping from there before my tears reappear and spill in front of his eyes. I do it in a movement so fast that I don't even react and when I hear a sigh from him, I am already crossing the Oliver door, running in the direction of the elevator. I rest my finger on that gray key that lights up red when pressed and I count the seconds, nervous. The time that passes until the doors finally open in front of me seems eternal. Being inside that metal room, I press the key for floor 0 and take a deep breath.

I look at that long corridor that ends with the only door that still remains open and I see it again. He stands leaning against the Oliver at the door with his hands tucked into his pockets. For the first time I observe him from head to toe, noticing that he is wearing the same clothes he was wearing that morning. His gaze is dry and cold, just like a few moments ago. As much as we are at a long distance, I know perfectly well that he looks at me and does not stop doing it, while the doors are closing little by little, slowly taking away the image of him and bringing the tears that he saved me all that time.

I appreciate not seeing anyone when I arrive at the reception and I approach the wide wall of the place that pretends to be a huge mirror. Seeing me in that state horrifies me. The shattered makeup after all that I cried, the stains I left from rubbing my eyes in the elevator, and my shattered look that could easily be mistaken for someone just out of a funeral.

I leave the building and cross the street, the traffic of which is much heavier than when I arrived. When I get to the other side of the street and find myself standing in front of a clothing store, I realize that something is missing. I am not lacking in the desire to kill myself when I notice that my backpack does not hang from my shoulder. I sigh, leaning my back against the wall of that building and put both hands to my face. The awareness that this makes my appearance worse makes me react and I push them away again, pointing my eyes to the entrance of the building from which I just left and thinking that it will not take long until I am reached by one of the girls. I look up, fixing it at the height of the balconies of the different apartments, not very large or small, some full of plants and others empty. I almost scream with fright when I see him again, leaning over the gray railing, looking at me with the same expression for the third time. I look away, detaching myself from the wall and beginning to walk through the unfamiliar streets.

His gaze remains fixed on my head, appearing before my eyes at all times. It is unacceptable to me that without doing absolutely nothing I generate so much in me and invade my mind in that way, distracting me to the point that I am afraid to cross the street. I can't find a better remedy than to call the driver and I am relieved not to have put my cell phone in the backpack that I left behind. After a brief description mentioning silly details like the School of Medicine or the name of a bar, the man says he understands me and hangs up, parking minutes later in front of me and opening the back door.

I get home around noon, exhausted, and the first thing I do is go up to my room without wanting to see anyone's face. After a warm shower, my mood improves at least a little. I lie down on the bed, turn off my cell phone, and find myself reading a book when I hear some knocks. I snort and head for the door.