"Nat, you in there?" Makayla pounded on the door.

A soft, melancholic and soulful song swept throughout the dimly lit apartment. Tears streamed down Nathalie's face as she was once again consumed by grief. Makayla's voice distantly called out to her, but she was numb to it. Perhaps, eventually, her sister would just leave. The image of Grant standing in the pouring rain just a few hours ago, repeated in her mind.

"Nathalie! Open up, before I get a noise complaint I gotta talk myself out of!"

With his rain-slackened hair and his wet shirt—transparent and clinging to his body. The sadness in his deep blue eyes when she backed away, pained her immensely. She tried so hard to contain herself. When he surprised her, the first thing she wanted to do was jump into his arms and breathe in his scent.

"For the love of—you better be dead in there!"

Go away. Leave me alone, Makayla. The thought was slow and lazy. A sudden sound caused her to gaze at the entrance. Opening wildly with a loud bang, the door flew off its hinges. It slammed against the wall and was pushed out of the way.

Makayla stomped through the corridor, wearing black boots and a worried expression. The facial expression quickly melted away when she saw Nathalie sitting on the couch.

"Oh, thank goodness! You're alive." She sighed as relief washed over her. Placing her hands on her hips, she scrunched her eyebrows. "Are you crazy or something?!?"

"I'm ... crazy? You broke my door." Nathalie drowsily stated and pointed at the entrance.

"Well, Gabrielle has the key. You weren't answering my calls OR the door. What the hell am I supposed to think? You could've been dead in here, decomposing away for all I know! Girl, what IS up with you? This looks serious."

"I wish I could work all day. When I'm not, I can't stop feeling like crap."

"Did that white boy do this to you? What he do? I'm gonna kill him!"

Nathalie lowered her head. "He didn't do anything."

"That bast—wait, he didn't do anything? Then why the hell you all discombobulated?!?"

"It was other ... problems."

Makayla remained thoughtful for a moment and lifted up a finger. "Do these problems have to do with his family?"

Wiping a tear from her face, Nathalie nodded.

"The hell with them," Makayla sat beside her. "If they got a problem with you, for what ever stupid reason, then forget them. At least you won't have to deal with all that anymore."

The thought of not having to deal with all the worries about how the relationship would progress, being on guard constantly and not having to listen to everyone's unsolicited opinions anymore sprinted through her mind.

Uncontrollably, they accumulated into a tidal wave of guilt that came crashing down upon her and swallowed her in its wake. It twisted her in every direction, until in the blink of an eye, it released and left her battered on some unknown region. No relief came from thinking those selfish thoughts.

She felt light-headed and unsteadily raised herself from the couch. Makayla's concerned stare remained fixed on her while she walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

"This isn't healthy. You can't be going to work and then lock yourself up in here like some Phantom of the Opera." Makayla stood and walked to her.

Reaching out, she turned Nathalie to face her. Saddened by her sister's appearance, she embraced her tightly. It wasn't how she wanted to see her. All she wanted was Nathalie to be herself again, not the heartbroken woman that was in front her.

She grabbed Nathalie's shoulders and nudged her to the exit. "You're staying at my place for a while. You can't be left alone."

"What about my door? Or clothes?" Nathalie drawled.

"Susan'll pick your clothes up after work. Your door," Makayla turned and re-arranged the door as best as she could. "Sorry, I'll have someone come fix it quick."

Three days later, Grant walked to her apartment and paused in front of the door. A solemn aura emanated from him. He sighed heavily and knocked. When no one answered after a few minutes, he shoulders dropped.

"Look, I don't know if you're home or not. I'll call you later either way, but I don't think I can go on without telling you how I feel." He breathed in deeply and rested his head on the door. "I love you, Nathalie. I love you! I've been wanting to tell you for some time now."

His sad chuckling echoed throughout the empty corridor, he remembered the lunch date and closed his eyes.

"I was going to tell you the day you met my family, but you just disappeared. I never got to say it and you never gave me the chance. There's always something it seems, but I don't care. I don't care, Nat! It doesn't make a difference or change the way I keep feeling. I can't help it. No matter how much you keep trying to push me away or run away. If you're home, please open up."

Briefly hopeful, he lifted his head. He sighed. "Yeah, what was I thinking. You're probably not even home." I'll just call you later.

His phone rang.

"I'll be there in an hour." He said and walked away.

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***[902]***