Tangled Love

CHAPTER 129

I pack away the very little things I bought with me and take a seat on the bed, looking around. The room is much smaller than I remember and the decor has changed slightly.

The walls of my new bedroom are painted a cream colour, paintings of the countryside hung up on the walls. The furniture is an oak chestnut colour and consisted of a small dresser and bedside table. There's a handmade woven rug full of warm pink, red and brown tones at the foot of my bed with a matching blanket. I smile warmly, stroking the fabric.

It looks like the work of Grandma. She loved to knit, crochet and design home decor.

"Do you remember this room?" Grandad appears at the doorway and I nod, looking around once again.

"How can I forget? Some of my best memories are in this room," I respond fondly, remembering how I adored this room as a little girl. I would spend endless hours on the floor, drawing little pictures before hanging them up, covering the walls with them.

"Maybe now you can create some more," Pops responds, entering my room. I shuffle further up my bed, making room for him and he thanks me, taking a seat on the end. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

"I have something for you," Pops says, holding out his hand. I glance down an gasp at the dainty chain he's holding in his hand. It's simply beautiful, the chain glistening in the light. At the end of the chain lies a little bird charm and I reach for it, holding it gently. My fingers brush over the bird pendant, feeling how smooth it is under my skin.

"I love it," I breathe out, leaning forward to embrace Pops in a hug. He pulls back and takes the necklace from me, motioning for me to turn around.

I lift my hair and feel the cool chain slide against my neck before he clasps it at the back. I run my fingers over it and turn, beaming at him.

"It's beautiful Pops."

"It was your Nana's. I bought it for her on her eighteenth birthday. She absolutely adored it."

"Oh grandad, I can't take this," I shake my head sadly. He put out his hand, waving my words off —

"Nonsense, it's been sat in a drawer for years. At least I get to see it be put to good use now," he smiles and I feel my heart warm for my love for him. He's such a genuinely lovely caring man and I'm proud to call him my Pops.

That night I lie in my new bedroom, wide awake staring at the ceiling. The patterns start to blur together and even when I shut my eyes tightly, sleep never comes. My body is exhausted but my mind is chaotic, countless thoughts running back and forth.

So I lie still till the sun rises, peeking through my curtains. I thinking about everything, the roller coaster of my life the last few months.

Jones, Dad, Mum, Pops, Jake. . .

Not one single tear falls from my eye as I'm officially drained from crying any longer. I'm dried up, emotionless as I lie there, my life falling apart piece by piece.

I'd lost my family and my boyfriend all within a space of a few months. Trevor tried to kill me and almost succeeded. I'd found out my father wasn't my real father. I'd found out my real father was actually a deranged psycho cop that should have been locked up years ago. I've been shot, beaten, put in a coma. My body is shutting down from years of pain and misery and my mind is going downhill with it. My mental health is at an all time low and I feel trapped inside a dark hole, alone.

The only person I have left is Pops and I know I couldn't stay under his roof forever. He's an old man, I couldn't burden him with the pressure of looking after me.

I sigh quietly in the dark, the sound echoing around the small room. Looks like I'm on my own from now on.