Translation of Love - By Alice Montalvo-Tribue Page 0,10
not sure about any of this. Do I want Victor to know where I live? I don’t get the axe murderer vibe from him but, then again, I don’t exactly have the best track record. I’m a legend when it comes to attracting losers. If there’s a scumbag within a ten mile radius, I can spot him. I text Victor back with an alternate suggestion.
Good morning. Why don’t you just let me know where you’re staying and I’ll meet you there. I wouldn’t want you to get lost.
That should do it. He’ll think I’m just being thoughtful. Having him come to my house is just not in my comfort zone. I have to keep him at bay and giving up where I live would mean letting my guard down. That’s something that I’m not prepared to do, EVER. The familiar beep from my phone alerts me to another text.
Don’t worry, Ellie, I’m not a murderer. You’ll be perfectly safe with me. My rental is equipped with a GPS. I’m sure I’ll have no trouble finding you.
Shit! He didn’t fall for my thoughtful act at all. He saw right through my message. That was my only good excuse for him not picking me up. He left me with no choice so I do the only thing I can do. I text him my address and hope that I haven’t made another bad decision
I spend the rest of the day cleaning my tiny, two-bedroom house. Cleaning for me is cathartic. It’s one of the only activities I can do that helps me to think and clear my head. My house isn’t much but I love it. With an open floor plan, the front door leads you immediately into a small living room covered in hard wood floors. There is a light blue love seat and a distressed white coffee table with matching end tables on either side of the couch. Directly in front of the couch is an old working fireplace with a mantle that houses pictures of my family. Above the fireplace is a flat screen television mounted on the wall. Everything about it is inviting. Two glass double doors separate the living room from the dining room, which is painted a faint shade of yellow. In the middle of the dining room sits a rectangular wooden table, which comfortably seats four. The dining room opens up to a small kitchen on the left that has been updated with white cabinets, light granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.
After making sure that the lower level is spotless, I climb the stairs to the upper level where the two bedrooms and bathroom are located. The second bedroom is used mostly for storage but there is a daybed in there for the occasional guest, which is mostly limited to Jordan after a night out at the clubs or Gemma when she wants a sleepover with her Auntie Elle. The bathroom is small but it has also been renovated with Tuscan style ceramic tiles and a new tub and showerhead. My bedroom is my sanctuary. It has large windows that let in the sunlight, making the whole space seem open and airy. The queen size bed is my favorite piece of furniture and, even though I rarely sleep, it’s very comfortable. Next to my bed is a matching nightstand that holds my laptop and some of my books. Directly in front of my bed is a large dresser and mirror that is framed by two antique sconces I picked up at a yard sale. I purchased this house for a steal early last year when it was nothing more than an old abandoned shack. No one wanted it so it had been on the market for years. I, however, knew it had potential. It had been abused and left to rot just like I had been and after seeing it once, I knew it had to be mine. I loved the neighborhood and the idea of being just a few miles from the beach, so I threw caution to the wind and enlisted the help of Dad and Gavin to fix it up. I was proud of the final outcome. It was a labor of love and I had to put in a lot of overtime hours to be able to get this house to look more like a home.
In my bedroom, I move to my walk-in closet to choose an outfit for tonight. I don’t want to seem like I’m trying too hard but