Love's war soldiers

Chapter 7

Time has flown by in slow motion since the day I sent my letter of intent to Princeton University.

Out of unforgivable pride, I decided not to apply to any other universities besides this one, which now makes me terribly worried.

I decided to get drunk on plain water by my own decision and believe that I have a new life, I will have everyti

hing I want.

But the delay in the acceptance or even rejection letter shakes my confidence and makes my head spin uncontrollably.

— Aimee, stop playing with your food, my father says, watching me walk my fork up and down my plate full of pasta carbonara, my favorite food.

— My dear, you need to eat something, my mother supports him. You've lost too much weight lately and you need to feed yourself.

— Forgive me, I say humbly and with a tone full of hopelessness. This Princeton thing scares the hell out of me. What if I get rejected?

— You will not be rejected. And if you will be, it's also time next year. You spend another year with us, says dad.

—Besides, there's still time, my mother tries to reassure me.

— What time, mother?! There is still a month until classes start and everyone has received their answers by now.

— Finish eating and I promise I'll call the postal service again. But now you have to eat, says dad.

I forcefully swallow a few mouthfuls of food and while my mother and I clean the table, my father retreats to the office to make the promised phone call.

I put the dishes in the sink with a promise to deal with them later, and sit on the sofa in our spacious living room. The couch now seems full of thorns and I can't find my place in any way. I anxiously began to rub my hands together anxiously.

* Thank you very much for the information and help.

* Yes, of course. Yes, we are waiting.

* A beautiful day.

My father's voice coming out of the office and the scrap of conversation caught makes my heart pound and I can't get a word out and the only thing I can think of now is that I'm glad I have a new heart because the other one wouldn't have lasted that long stress.

— What did they say? Mom asks

— They found the letter. Due to an operator error it was mixed up in a pile for another quarter. They apologized and said a mailman would be here in about an hour.

I breathe a sigh of relief and squeeze my mother's hand tightly, who is now looking at me fondly with a gentle smile on her face.

I wish I could be happy, but I don't have as much hope as they do. This is just a hop, there's still a chance I'll be rejected. I don't think I could recover from this.

Just the thought that the letter might start with "Sorry" makes me nauseous and sick.

Without making a sound, I retreat to the kitchen and run the sink to wash the dishes. I've always hated washing dishes, but now I can't find a better way to fill my mind with something else.

This will be the longest hour of my life.

I've finished washing the dishes and paper toweling all the glasses to make them shine and put it in the display case, and now there's nothing else left for me to do.

I put my elbows on the kitchen counter, stuffing my palms with my pale cheeks and let out sob after sob. How hard is the waiting..

The front doorbell rings, sparing the heavy waiting that weighs on my soul. By the time I reach the living room, the postman has left and left the letter with my parents.

Smiling and without saying a word, my father hands me the sealed envelope. I take it in my hand and watch them shake as if my life depended on this letter.

As if it were the only one in the world. I hesitate to open the envelope and hand it to my father.

— I can't do that, I say.

He looks at me questioningly as if he doesn't understand what I'm trying to say.

— You mean you don't want us to open it? He asks, asking her for help within my mother's look.

– Of course we open it. I just can't do this by myself. I'd rather you do it, Dad.

He looks at me fondly and comes closer to kiss my forehead. I have always had an enviable relationship with my parents. We were close and they were always more than just parents to me.

— It's now or never, says Dad.

We all gasp as he grabs the needle to open the envelopes and tears the white paper that hides the long awaited answer.

He reads the contents with an impassive look that gives me no clue whether to be happy or sad. Take a deep breath and continue.

— Congratulations! We are happy to announce that you have been accepted to Princeton University, New Jersey.

I jump up like a child at these words and rush into my parents' arms, my cheeks full of tears and my heart leaping with joy.

— Tomorrow we will go shopping. We have so much to buy, mom says excitedly.

— We're going, we're going. There is so little time left, I add.

My father brings a bottle of champagne, and for the first time in my life I am allowed to drink alcohol.

For the first time in my life I feel alive.