Meet Me Where the Oak Tree Grows novel Chapter 18

The new lingerie was still on the couch downstairs! Aunt Marie had said it needed a hand wash before I could wear it.

I slipped on my slippers and quietly made my way downstairs, planning to wash it that night.

The living room was bathed in a soft, warm glow from a small lamp. On the couch sat a man, half-hidden in the shadows. Thin trails of smoke curled from his slender fingers as he sat there, motionless, like a shell of a person being slowly consumed by the haze around him.

I stopped in my tracks.

Sensing my presence, he stubbed out his cigarette. “Hungry?” he asked.

I shook my head, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “No, I came to grab a little bag. I forgot to wash the clothes in it.”

“Oh, I washed them and hung them up to dry.”

Wait, what? I was surprised.

I glanced over at the balcony and saw them hanging neatly on the rack, still damp and wrinkled—definitely hand-washed.

A strange feeling washed over me. Why was he being so diligent, making me feel like a total slacker?

He patted the spot next to him, inviting me to sit down. “Can't they be hand-washed?” he asked, puzzled.

I rested my chin on my hand, nodding and then shaking my head. “Not exactly, but you're strong. I was worried you'd scrub them too hard and ruin them.”

He chuckled, “...I’ll be more careful next time.”

Back then, he saw me as a kid who hadn’t grown up, and I didn’t have much experience interacting with guys. He thought of me as a sister, and I saw him as my brother. Neither of us thought anything was off.

It was almost midnight when he urged me to go to bed.