Mrs. Matched | Complete

Chapter Three

When I had finished folding all of the boxes into box shapes and securing what would be the bottom with two lines of tape, I realized I had completely blacked myself into the living room with a wall of empty boxes. Fortunately, boxes are not known for their excessive weight, so I grabbed an empty box in each hand and bulldozed my way through the rest of the pile.

I forced myself to dance along to the upbeat music, at least maintaining the illusion that I was happy, as I packed my clothes, books and jewellery into the newly formed boxes. It was a good thing I hadn't amassed many things in my twenty-five years of life and always kept my apartment spotless, or it would have been an even more monumental task to pack everything I own in under twenty-four hours.

I was midway through packing the bookshelves when I reached the classic literature section. Part of me still loved the well-worn copies of stories about marriage and love and breaking social constraints. But another, currently larger, part of me couldn't stand to look at those concepts a minute longer after what had happened to me.

I stuffed the books into the bottom of a box where I wouldn't have to look at them anymore. Maybe one day I'll love you again.

I carefully piled the rest of the books in on top until they were all off of my shelf. The seven very heavy boxes would have to rest on the floor in front of the bookshelf until the movers came because there was no way I would be able to move them. Maybe I should have spread the books into different boxes, I reasoned. But it was too late to change it.

I plopped my exhausted body down onto the couch and rubbed the sweat off my brow with the back of my arm.

I should probably tell Melody what's going on, even though she is on her honeymoon. Don't want to freak her out coming home and finding some old scary man living in my apartment.

I turned down the music and pulled my feet up onto the couch before dialing Melody's number and putting the phone on speaker so the still-broken screen wouldn't poke my face. It rang so many times that my anxious self could not sit still. So by the time she answered, I had paced the floor twice and was in the middle of wrapping family photos in packing paper and bubble wrap.

When she finally answered the call, her voice was thick with sleepiness. "Hey, Aubrey? What's up?"

I did the math in my head. "Oh, my gosh! I'm sorry!" I yelled as I sprinted over to my phone. "I didn't realize what time it was there. I can let you go if you want... Is it all right if we talk?"

She chuckled and I could hear her moving around before closing a door. "Yeah. I'm in the living room now so we won't disturb Paul. He sleeps like a rock. Did you know that?"

A laugh escaped me at her question, despite my predicament. "No, Mel. If you didn't know he slept like a rock, how would I have known? I've never slept with your husband!"

She gasped and then laughed, probably realizing what she had just asked me. "Oh, yeah. Sorry. I'm tired."

"I know. Sorry. How's married life treating you?" I cringed at the words coming out of my mouth. I sounded like my father.

"Pretty cool, actually." I could hear her smiling as she spoke. "I like waking up next to him, Aubrey. And it's pretty nice to let someone else take care of you for a while."

"See, that I might want," I said without thinking.

"You could have it one day, you know. You just have to let people in and do the work. Love is about the doing, Aubrey, not just the feeling."

"Yeah, I guess..."

I cleared my throat and then silence filled the line.

"You still there?" I asked after a few minutes, hoping she hadn't fallen asleep.