It’s nothing fancy, just a little room. But it’s better than the cold ground. You can stay for the night, just tonight.
Julia? Just tonight, she repeated firmly. He hesitated, but he was too weak to refuse. He just nodded.
She reached out her hand. He took it. On the way, Julia watched him.
Even with a limp, David carried himself upright, as if holding on to a dignity no one else could see. He didn’t look away. He didn’t seem ashamed.
And that intrigued her even more. When they arrived, she opened the door to her small apartment. Welcome to my castle.
Ignore the mess and the smell of disinfectant. David stepped inside slowly. He stopped in front of a framed photo of a smiling older woman standing next to Julia.
Your mother? My grandmother. She’s in the hospital this week. I take care of her.
He touched the glass carefully. Murmured something Julia couldn’t catch. What did you say? Nothing.
Just, she reminds me of someone I once knew. Julia felt a chill run down her spine. But she decided not to push.
She led David to the small back room. This is the bedroom. Bathroom’s at the end of the hall.
Towels are in the cabinet. And, watch out for the heater. Don’t get too comfortable, okay? It’s just for tonight.
Of course, just for tonight. David stood there, taking in the space with quiet respect. And that night, neither of them slept well.
One, because he felt further than ever from his own past. The other, because she felt closer than ever to something she couldn’t yet explain. Let’s play a little game with the people who only read the comments.
Type pizza in the comments. Only those who read this far will get it. Now, let’s continue the story.
The next morning started with the relentless sound of the alarm clock. Julia slowly opened her eyes. And for a moment, she thought she had dreamed it all.
But as soon as she heard the sound of the faucet running in the bathroom, she remembered. David was still there. She got up, tied her hair into a messy bun, and walked to the kitchen.
She found a clean plate on the drying rack and a pot on the stove. You cooked? She asked, surprised. Seeing David sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in his hands.
I tried. It’s more of an experiment than a meal. I promise nothing exploded.
Julia grabbed a spoon and tasted the rice. She made a face. This tastes like porridge, missing salt.
I’m practicing, he said with a half smile. She laughed. So did he.
For the first time since he’d entered her home, Julia saw him relax. Even so, something about him still didn’t quite fit. The way he held the cup, the way he observed the space.
He wasn’t just some ordinary guy. You look more put together today. Sleeping under a roof works wonders, he replied without looking at her.
Julia nodded, poured herself some coffee, and sat across from him. I have to leave soon. Two deliveries and a job interview today.
Can I stay another day? She thought for a second. Their deal was for just one night, but he didn’t seem like trouble. All right, but no snooping through my stuff and no more cooking experiments.
I promise. No more salty porridge. As Julia rushed out, David settled onto the living room couch with a book he found on the shelf, Economics for Dummies.
He smirked, flipped it open halfway through and started reading, turning the pages with an unsettling familiarity for someone homeless. Later that morning, he washed the dishes, straightened the kitchen towels, and cleaned the bathroom mirror, taking his time as if he’d done it a hundred times before. That evening, when Julia returned, she found the apartment quiet and spotless.
You cleaned? Seemed fair, since I’m taking up space. Are you trying to win me over with a broom and soap? If it works, I can mop the floor tomorrow, too. Julia laughed.
She sank onto the couch, exhausted. My day was a mess. Got the deliveries done, but the interview? A disaster.
You’ll get there. You just need the right opportunity. She looked at him.
The way he said it, it wasn’t just encouragement. It was like he knew what he was talking about. You sound like someone who’s had every opportunity in the world.
Maybe I wasted a few, he said, a distant look in his eyes. The next day, while Julia was at work, David reorganized the bookshelf and fixed the flickering light on the balcony. He used a makeshift screwdriver, a bent spoon, and a rusty pair of pliers.
When she got home, she noticed the light was working. You messed with the lamp? It was bothering me. You’re good with tools.
I was curious as a kid, liked taking things apart. Didn’t always know how to put them back together. Julia crossed her arms, suspicious.
You’re nothing like I imagined. And what did you imagine? A lost guy, wandering around, barely able to write his own name. You’ve read too much and lived too little, she laughed.
Arrogant too. A little, sometimes. They laughed together.
Their unlikely arrangement was starting to feel normal. But the peace didn’t last long. The next afternoon, a loud knock on the door shattered the silence.
Julia opened the door. It was the building manager, Mr. Oswald. Stern as always.
Good afternoon, Miss Julia. Can we talk? Of course. Is there a problem? We’ve had reports of a strange man hanging around the building.
Messy hair, worn out clothes. Some residents are concerned. Julia froze.
David appeared behind her in the hallway, holding a dish towel. Is something wrong? The manager eyed him with suspicion. Is this the man in question? Julia opened her mouth, but David spoke first.
Sorry if I caused any concern. I’m Julia’s cousin. I came from out of town and I’m staying here for a few days until I find a place.
Cousin? Oswald raised an eyebrow. David stepped forward and offered his hand. David, nice to meet you.
The manager shook his hand reluctantly. Just be careful. The residents are sensitive about strangers, and the building rules require long-term visitors to be registered.
We’ll take care of it, Julia said, trying to sound firm. Oswald nodded and left. When she closed the door, she turned to David.
Cousin? It worked, didn’t it? She laughed, shaking her head. You’re too good at improvising. Old habit? A habit from what? Survival, he said, looking toward the window with that same calm expression.
That night, Julia kept thinking about what had happened. How could someone who claimed to have nothing be so quick, articulate, and observant? David slept quietly in the small guest room, discreet. But something about him screamed the opposite of what he pretended to be.
She walked over to the bookshelf and looked at the books he had arranged. One had a folded page at number 47. She opened it.
There was a note, written with her own pen. You are better than you think. You just need the world to see it.
Julia smiled, and for the first time in a long while, she felt like maybe she wasn’t so alone anymore. Julia woke up to the smell of fresh coffee coming from the kitchen. It was early, and the sky was still painted in shades of orange.