CHAPTER 30
1274 Words
God knows how long I had stayed here in Michael's house but the last thing that I wanted to do at this point was leave.
Being here was everything.
Michael had taken my hand and showed me to the back of his yard, where I was blessed with he sight of the prettiest kindsof flowers in this wonderful garden, a variety of roses, red, yellow, white, and dandelions and sunflowers and it was clear enough to me so far that Michael McAllister was a man who loved Nature.
Not long ago, we stared at the pretty stars in the skies together. I couldn't count how many times we have even done that so far, but it felt like a lot.
And, to think about it, on our first date, he had taken me to the back of the restaurant where we had talked and talked at length, surrounded by rose petals on the walks.
Now, at the back of his house, he was growing the prettiest garden. It was dark now, yet we wandered around the place, savoring it's beauty under the moonlight.
"So what, you wanted to be a farmer in your next life?" I teased him.
The man laughed.
That rich laugh that find a way to resonate beautifully through me.
"I got the inspiration for this the first time I went to RitesStone," He told me for a fact.
I blinked in confusion.
"Where?" My mouth blurted out as it was, I had no freaking idea where on earth he was talking about.
He looked at me. "The restaurant where we had our first date?"
My eyes raised in realization at the reminder, immediately.
"Oh!" I said, "Right, there."
"Yes, there," He confirmed.
So, that was the name of the Restaurant?
I never even knew.
"Remember when the place first opened and they launched their dinner fest?" He asked me as I walked with him.
"Well," I cleared my throat to lie properly, "Yeah?" I knew nothing. No s**t, one bit. But this seemed like a conversation that a woman like the one I was feigning should not be having a problem with.
What important person would not know about other important events?
"I remember," I nodded promptly.
"So, during the fest, I saw the little garden at the back and I instantly wanted something like that," He told me, "So, I made one in my own backyard."
Well, some people really have this 'I want it, I got it' life, don't they?
"You seem to really like nature," I said to him.
"Anything that gives me peace in general," He said with a nod.
We walked through the path in the oretty garden and it was so worthwhile for me.
"What about you?" He asked me.
"What about me?" I asked back.
"What do you like?" He asked me.
"Raindrops, roses, whiskers on kittens," I played him with.
He laughed at that.
"So, you listen to Classicals," He told me.
"You don't have to listen to them to know songs from Sounds of Music," I laughed, "I mean, when I was a kid, I used to watch that movie all the freaking time."
The memories made me even laugh harder.
My childhood made me happy in so many ways.
But, also, traumatized me in even worse ways…...
"Are you okay?" Michael asked me and then, was when I had noticed the downcast on my face, a reflex action that just happened at the thought of my childhood.
"Yeah," I muttered. Stayed quiet afterwards.
"You were talking about your childhood," He reminded me.
"Forget it," I dismissed. "Please." I added politely.
There came between us, a silence.
Only that it was far from comfortable.
I saw Michael from my peripheral vision, staring at me as he walked by my side, and never letting his eyes go for even a second. Talk less of two.
"I like music," I told him, answered the question that had asked me.
"Me too," He said quietly.
"And you," I smiled weakly. Nervously to say. I actually blushed at that and couldn't stop myself from turning beet red.
Michael's brown eyes were grey under the moonlight and he smiled back at me; he was even redder. Flattered.
"Never thought I'd hear you admit that in your right mind," He said to me.
"Well, I am an unpredictable woman," I said jokingly.
"So, then, what else about you?" He asked me even more curiously.
"Enough about me," I said, "What about you?"
"What about me?" He asked.
"What don't you like?" I asked him.
He seemed to think for a while.
It seemed to me like it was a question that he could not answer right off that bat. When he did come up with an answer, after some hard thought, it came up.
"If I were to say," He told me, "Lies."
Chills ran through me.
"Lies," I repeated.
"Lies," He confirmed.
"Everyone hates those." I tried to speak through my suddenly strangled tone of voice.
"I think I have a special hatred then," He said to me.
"Did anyone make you feel that way?" I asked him.
Too Sensitive.
I knew I had asked a question too sensitive, and it showed on his face.
"You don't have to answer it if it's not comfortable with you,—" I was trying to say to him.
But he interrupted.
"I've just had my heart broken so many times by people I trusted," He said to me.
More lashes sliced my back, but I stayed still and stood strong on my feet.
"One thing I have noticed is that people I think care about me, most of the time, only what to use me for what they can get from me," He opened up to me, "And sadly, when they are done, they walk right out of my life."
Damn.
"It's sad, really," He said.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered, every feeling of pity and guilt torturing me.
"You've got nothing to be sorry for," He said to me.
I had A LOT to be sorry for, Michael.
"Remember on our first date, when I told you I was not easily wooed by women anymore?" He said to me.
"Yeah," I answered in a low voice.
"Well, you are the first woman in over ten years to ever change that," He said to me, "I can't say what it is about you…."
God...
Awful couldn't even cut it. It could not even describe how I felt. I was completely devasted. Guilt tormented me.
There and then did it dawn on me that gravity of this risk I was taken by lying to him.
I suddenly felt sick to my stomach.
"I want to go home." I suddenly announced to him.
That took him aback, I was sure. But I could not keep standing here and lying to him while he was telling me about how much he has had his heart broken by other liars like me.
"Please," I was softer in time, "I am really tired. I want to go home."
Michael looked understanding.
A bit sorry too.
"Alright," He said, "Maybe you could come visit some other time. You don't need to tell me when you're at it."
"Sure," I said. I couldn't even look him in the eyes. "Can I go now?"
"Yeah," He helped by taking my hand and me towards the house from the backyard garden.
I couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle the guilt. I couldn't stand the thought of what I was doing any longer.
For that reason, I made up one mind on one thing and one thing alone.
- Writer
