Chapter 2 Before Yesterday II

Sophie raised a perfectly carved brow. She took the letter from his outstretched hand, wondering what it was about that Rhys could not just handle it alone.

Usually, Rhys did stuff like this. He prepared all the documents she needed and made sure their accounts and tax books were up-to-date; basically, everything was his unit.

She looked at the letter, noting the agency's logo and their name spelled out in fine, meticulous prints behind the envelope.

Her eyes went back to Rhys, who, as if understanding her unspoken question, quickly shrugged his shoulders.

Sophie tore the letter open and ran her eyes through its content, then looked up to Rhys and then to the shop across theirs, whose shutters were sealed shut.

"What does it say?" Rhys asked impatiently.

She handed the letter to him and placed her notepad on the table. "Apparently, the laundromat and the restaurant have been bought, as has the land around them, and the new owner will start renovations as early as next week." She wrote.

"Did anyone ever approach you to buy this place?" Rhys asked.

Sophie shook her head. "It's weird that they would buy the two buildings and leave us in the middle, isn't it?" she wrote.

Rhys nodded. "It's quite weird." He conferred. "Perhaps you want to visit our neighbor? He might know one or two things about what's going on."

Sophie nodded. She left Rhys and made her way into the bakery. Perhaps they were thinking too much about the situation; perhaps they were too underprepared, but Sophie liked to stay on top of things.

She took off the shawl that she had wrapped around her neck and sat on a stool close to the large oven, which filled almost half of the room.

She heard the door open and saw Rhys enter slowly.

"What's going on in your head, Sophie?" He asked carefully, trying not to make her more upset than she already was.

"Nothing." Sophie signed, holding back a tear that threatened to fall from her eyes.

Rhys took the seat closest to her and laid his palm over hers. "Its nothing." He said this, gazing into the fire. "I assure you."

He returned her notepad to her; she had left it on his desk earlier. That was how he knew she was distressed. She never moved a step without the notepad.

Rhys thought back to when he first met Sophie about five years ago and how much both of them had grown around each other since then and depended on each other.

Most times, people thought she depended on him too much. She was powerless on her own; there was nothing against the force of the world, which was quick to condemn and judge people like her.

But they were wrong. If anything, Rhys depended more on Sophie to survive. She took care of them both, providing for them emotionally and mentally, so that with each day that went by, he felt himself meaning into her more and more.

Sophie had been strong since the first day he met her. It was what had drawn him to her in the first place.

The air had been frigidly cold that morning, and Rhys, in his convocation attire, had proudly been waiting for the arrival of his mother. He was going to show her what man he had become and what man she had made.

He had watched his friends and peers meet with their own families, smiles and tears gleaming on their faces, and he looked towards the road expectantly, waiting for the money. His mother would run towards him, wide arms, with a proud smile on her face and some tears in her eyes, and she would hug him, kiss him, and tell him how proud she was of him.

But it never happened; his phone had vibrated in his pocket, and the next voice he heard sent him running mad to the hospital.

His mother had been involved in a ghastly car accident on her way to his school.

The news had swept him off his feet fast, but still, he had not made it to the hospital in time to see his mother draw her last breath.

He had wailed and cried, but nothing could bring his mother back. The days that followed were dark and foggy. Rhys remembered trudging around town like a ghost. He remembered standing below the highest tower in town and staring up at it.

He had chosen it as his spot. The spot where he would end this life and begin another one with his mother.

It was on this tower that he met Sophie. The woman, who, without a voice, had saved him from the edge of death and brought him back to life,.

She had held the hem of his shirt, which flapped with the wind, and when he turned to look down at her, he saw that she was just a stranger. She hand-drew him from the ledge and pulled him into her arms, cuddling him as he struggled and cried till he had no more strength left in him and drifted into a long sleep.

She stayed with him all through as he slept, allowing him to use her leg as his pillow, until he woke up. And when he did, he was surprised that she had stayed.

She had taken her notepad and written something that he would never forget.

"The world is cruel, yes. But it is also what we make of it."

In the days that followed, she would invite him to her bakery, make him bread, and watch him eat. Although she never once opened her mouth, he could feel her in his thoughts and read into her smiles, and the more time they spent together, the more he came to love life more.