11
1049 Words
He took me to beautiful restaurant that was empty. He must have pulled some strings to get it.
I followed behind him as he walked a few steps ahead, always keeping a small but intentional distance, glancing back just enough to make sure I was still there. It felt less like he was leading me and more like he was guiding me into a world he had designed for this moment.
The scenery outside was almost beautiful, a stone bridge arched over the river, lined with glowing amber lights that shimmered across the water. The sky rumbled with the low percussion of a distant thunderstorm, its flashes occasionally illuminating the horizon. Inside, candlelight softened every corner, giving the room a warm, golden hush.
When we sat, a quiet conversation with the chef must have taken place beforehand, because dishes arrived without menus or questions. First came a delicate appetizer: thin slices of citrus-cured salmon arranged like rose petals, sprinkled with microgreens and edible flowers. Then a truffle soup followed, creamy and aromatic, the kind that warmed more than just the body.
He watched me closely, his chin resting lightly on his knuckles.
“You like it?” he asked.
I nodded. “It’s… nice.”
A small smile curved his lips.
For the main course, he insisted I choose first, though I could tell he had anticipated exactly what I’d want. I ended up with seared duck breast glazed in pomegranate reduction, paired with roasted figs and saffron rice. He ordered a simple but elegant dish: handmade pasta infused with basil and served with shaved parmesan and olive oil so pure it tasted like sunlight.
The dinner was quiet and exceptional, he had intentionally let me eat. For a moment I forgot about my revenge and thought to enjoy the finest things in life. I knew Melvin could give me that life, he had the resources and the money.
But not everyone can escape death and choose to follow peace, I chose chaos.
Once we were done, I thought I should end it once and for all.
“Look,” I said, straightening myself in my chair and his eyes lifted to mine, calmly. “I understand you trying to get to know me but I’d really appreciate it if it ends here.”
He blinked once.
“Why?” he asked.
“I’m not interested in you,” I lied smoothly. I have said that before and It usually works.
“That’s not what I think” he replied evenly.
“What happened between us was a mistake, you thought I was someone else and that's why we are here now.” I continued, my voice steady despite the tightening in my chest. “We weren't meant to meet, this wasn’t meant to happen.”
He didn’t respond right away. He leaned back in his chair, studying me like he was trying to read something written beneath my skin.
“You gave me your number,” he said finally. “Now you’re telling me to stop. Which one am I supposed to believe?”
“That’s because you kept pestering me,” I shot back. “I knew you’d show up at my work no matter how many times I said no.”
His jaw tightened. “Why is it so hard for you to accept me?”
I froze.
If only he knew what I went through, what I had to face to be here today.
I came back from the dead, the people who killed me felt no remorse for what they had done.
Right now I have no evidence to bring them before the law, so I have to take matters into my own hands.
“I can’t,” I said quietly instead.
“Why?” he insisted.
Because loving you would ruin everything.
“Can we talk about this some other time?” I pleaded, standing abruptly and grabbing my bag. “I’ve had a long day. I just need a shower. Please.”
I walked past him, I could feel my heart pounding, when his hand closed around mine.
He stood up, his body suddenly inches away from mine. I could smell his scent on my skin, felt it cling to me, I didn’t want to let go of. For a second, I wanted to lean in, sink into him, forget everything.
He gently turned me to face him, lifting my chin so my eyes met his.
There was no sadness there, only admiration.
“Promise me one thing,” he said softly.
“What?” My voice wavered. My knees felt weak.
His fingers played with mine. “That you’ll call me if you ever need anything.”
I stood in a daze for a minute, our hands pressed against each other while he waited for a response from me.
The sound of a plate falling to the ground snapped me back.
I pulled my hand away, forcing myself to step back. “I’m sorry,” I said, “But I don’t think I’ll ever need you.” I replied then walked away hoping to never see him again.
I was wrong.
The rain poured heavily that night, there was no sign of taxi’s around, giving me no choice than to just stand there.
I might be cursed.
His car pulls up again in front of me, the chauffeur stepped out of the car and began running towards me or so I thought until he swerve to my left.
“The keys Sir” he said. I turned to my left to see Melvin standing beside me with an umbrella over my head.
How long has he been standing there. His hair was damp at the edges, rain clinging to his lashes but he didn’t care as long as I was untouched.
“Atleast let me take you home” he requested in a soft tone.
The ride home was quiet, I could feel his gaze on me but he barely said anything. Once we arrived at my apartment, the rain had come to an end. I thanked him and rushed home.
Once I shut the door behind me, a message rang from my phone,
I checked the notification, it was message from Gaston.
What the hell does he want this time?
- Writer
