The next week came by in a blink of an eye, and I started going to work again. I was an editor at a newspaper company. The pay was really good, and besides, Ethan had introduced me to the job, so I couldn't afford to lose it. Ethan would forever have an impact on me.
The moment I stepped into the building, I was caught by surprise as everyone in the office shouted, "Welcome back, Stacy!!!" I couldn't believe my eyes. I honestly never imagined in a million years that I would get a welcome party. Seeing this made me tear up. Margaret, my co-worker and best friend, came to hug me. She didn't have to say anything, but I knew what her hug meant, and I was glad that she gave me that comfort.
Greg, my boss, walked toward us and stopped in front of us, making Margaret pull away from our hug. He looked at me before placing a hand on my shoulder and saying, "I know what you've gone through is very traumatizing, but I want you to know that we all are here for you and you are not alone." This made me tear up even more. I had a lot of people who cared about me, and I felt so lucky. I take back my earlier words about happiness being a rare gem for me—it definitely isn't, especially with the people around me.
After the short welcome party, most of my co-workers came to sympathize with me, and I was thankful for that. Afterward, work went pretty well. It was time for lunch, and this was the usual time Ethan came into my office, walking in with his bright smile and asking me how my work was. He then took me out for lunch and dropped me back at work—not before giving me a goodbye kiss.
Now, that's a distant memory, something that can never happen again. It hurts. I miss him so much—it hurts so much. Just why did he have to leave me? Thinking about this made me burst into tears. Thankfully, everyone had left for lunch, so no one would see me look so pathetic.
I spent the rest of my day just thinking about Ethan. Sometimes Margaret tried to start a conversation, but I gave her little to no answer. I feel so bad ignoring my best friend, but I can't help it.
After work closed, Margaret offered to drive me home, but I refused, telling her I would take a cab. She decided not to push further in convincing me, which I was thankful for.
I decided to take a walk home. Though I could have taken a cab, I decided against it. Besides, it had been a long time since I had taken a walk—alone. While I was walking, I saw a park—the park where Ethan and I used to go. I swear, I could never get used to the words "used to," especially associating them with Ethan.
Though I shouldn't have, I went into the park, which brought a feeling of nostalgia.
"Please, please, please, I promise I would do anything—just buy the ice cream," I begged him.
"Anything you say," he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, which I didn't fail to notice, but I was too desperate to care.
"Yes, I promise," he smiled.
"You do know that you've promised you'd do anything?"
"Yes, I know. Just buy the ice cream before the truck goes, okay?" He then left to buy the ice cream and brought it back, which brought a huge smile to my face. After licking the ice cream to my satisfaction, Ethan came in front of me with a mischievous smile, which I knew was no good.
"You do remember your promise—or have you forgotten?"
Why did I have to see an ice cream truck now? I knew I was done for.
"Okay, what do you want?" I replied sassily, which made his smile more mischievous and, to be honest, made me scared. Oh, I was in for it now.
"Say I love you, Ethan, for everyone in the park to hear you."
My eyes widened at that. I couldn't do that. I was about to say no before he cut me off, "Remember, you promised."
I wish I never did. Now I was going to embarrass myself. Without thinking, I shouted, "I LOVE YOU, ETHAN!" which brought a lot of attention to myself.
That memory made me laugh before breaking me down in tears. If I had known things would turn out like this, I would have shouted "I love you, Ethan" without caring about the embarrassment I would face. This is just too much—everything, I mean literally everything, reminds me of him. It's just so hard to move on.
Maybe it was the Lord's way of punishing me for not being able to give my father a proper goodbye. I regret not attending his funeral. I was just too hurt to bid him farewell. I miss him also, but I guess I've gotten over his death. Still, I can't bring myself to go to his grave. I feel ashamed each time I think about my father, but Mom said I shouldn't blame myself, which I am still trying not to do.
After maybe an hour or so, I decided to leave the park and started heading toward home. Well, I can't call it that now—home isn't home without Ethan. We used to live together with my mom; we were so inseparable. I still find it hard to believe that he's dead.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice a little boy following me until he pulled at my skirt. Crouching down to meet the boy's height, I saw his features—he was really cute, which made me smile.
"Are you lost, young boy?" I asked.
He nodded his head, which made me frown immediately. For how long was he lost?
Before I could speak again, the little boy started sobbing, "I can't find my dad anymore."
How could his father be so irresponsible?
"When last did you see him, little one?" I asked.
"At the park," he answered immediately.
Oh no! Not the park—I really didn't want to go there, but a little boy's life was at stake here.
Without much thinking, I grabbed the boy's hand and started heading toward the park. While we were walking, I decided to make conversation with the little boy.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Edward," he replied, which made me smile. The name reminded me of my favorite fiction character, Edward Cullen.
"What's your name, Aunt?" he asked. I didn't know whether it was the question that surprised me or the fact that he called me "Aunt."
Nevertheless, I answered him with a sweet smile, "I'm Stacy."
He smiled at me before saying, "You have a very beautiful name, Aunt."
Wow, this kid never failed to surprise me. He was such a sweet boy. Why would his father be so careless and lose such a sweet child?
We kept talking about random topics, and for a five-year-old, the boy was really smart. He never ceased to catch me by surprise.
Not long after, we reached the park, and I tried my best to push away my feelings and concentrate on looking for the boy's father.
"Dad! Dad!" Edward called out and ran to the man who I assumed to be his father.
The man immediately engulfed Edward in a hug. He looked relieved and also seemed to be in a hurry. I didn't even get the chance to approach him and tell him how careless he was. I didn't get to see his face clearly or tell Edward goodbye. He just left with him in his car and drove off.
I promise, the next time I see him—if I do recognize him—he would get a taste of his own medicine.