The Italian Heir-CASTELLANO SERIES: MARTIN’S STORY

18

I typed some words but deleted them.

I attempted once more, deleted and rephrased my question on the search bar—‘what should you do when you make a woman upset?’ and there were articles after articles such as ‘acknowledging their feelings’ or ‘when girls say I’m fine but what does it truly mean?’, and there’s an article that wrote ‘fight it out, make up s*x later’ of which I thought was utter nonsense but doable?

I snorted in mockery—Erika would have my head.

I dropped my phone onto my lap and instinctively shut my eyes—stinging as they snapped shut. The plane was nowhere close to landing despite being high up in the atmosphere for what seems like eons now.

After the little incident that night when Zoe barged into my hotel room—while I was on the phone with Erika, I was positive she must’ve heard a thing or two enough to end the call between us.

I left her a couple of texts; my calls went straight to voicemail. I was neck deep in work, so I hadn’t exactly had much time to sit and do a recon. I didn’t know what to do, so I resorted to Google hoping it’d give me some satisfactory answer, but I guess sometimes you can’t always depend on technology to solve actual human feelings.

Look, it’s not that I don’t understand women, it’s just that after being around so many, I must acknowledge that all women are all wired differently—no two are the same. The mind of a woman is so complex that I’m sure if her brain was donated to research, scientists themselves might never be able to decode it or draw a solid conclusion. Nay, even the Big Bang Theory would seem less complicated than this.

Erika and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember, but lately, I’ve realized that I’m beginning to see sides of her she’s never shown me. I can’t exactly pen them down in words, merely thoughts. But then, best friends who acknowledge their feelings for one another, there shouldn’t be any drastic changes in the advancement of this relationship, right? Wrong.

“You look like you could use a cookie.”

My eye lids peeled open reluctantly and I mumbled an excuse me?

“I hope you don’t mind the sudden intrusion, but I was watching you for quite a bit. You look like you could use a snack.”

“I’m not hungry, thank you.” I was so not in the mood for a dry chat, I just needed a nap.

But the stranger that joined me did not budge. I had no choice but to return the smile. He looked like your average middle-aged, suburban-living, 9-5 office job white man clad in khaki trousers that seemed like he had been married for a while with a good old dad belly to pair with.

He slipped a box of cookies on the small desk next to my seat and my eyes took notice of the label on it. “These are girl scout cookies.” I said stiffly, my twin sisters used to make me, Alex and Elijah—their big brothers buy from them, so they didn’t have to walk around the neighborhood.

“I know.” His eyes lit up as they met recognition “It’s the last one I have with me—my daughter slipped these in my luggage, that cheeky little minion.” The man smiled warmly, and he eased into the seat next to me.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’m Keith.” He stuck out his hand and I took it. “Martin.” I offered an exchange of credentials.

“How old is your daughter?” I casually asked. After all, the man had just offered me a cookie.

“She’s just turned 8, a rather sprightly bright kid. You’ve got any kids of your own?”

“None yet, thought I’d keep that all for much later.” I chuckled softly.

Keith laughed softly. “Well, no rush about that, but I may have taken that statement too literally. I was 55 when I had my first and only child and don’t believe me when I say that her friends sometimes mistake me for her grandfather is the least of my problems.” He chuckles softly.

I cracked a smile and thought for a bit, the question was right at the tip of my tongue. “ What’s it like being a father to a daughter?”

It was something I’ve never asked my father either. Mom was the first ‘girl’ he had to deal with, followed by twin daughters of his own. Never knew how he did it.

“Oh, son. You have no idea.”

He’s right, I have none.

So, his story began. On that day he found out he was about to be a father. He passed out once his wife broke him the news, passed out another when his wife was in labor, but he was the happiest man alive when he held his daughter for the first time that Tuesday morning 8 years ago.

But having a daughter wasn’t easy, there were mood swings, banters, tears, behavioral changes, and temper tantrums involved—especially when you tell your child no chocolate before dinner. “No amount of parenting class could solve my problem, no amount of reasoning was sufficient because kids always end up outsmarting a grown ass adult—especially girls, you need to try to see things from their point of view—slow and steady and a whole lot of patience in your tank.”

“Were there moments where you’re left absolutely helpless, clueless even? And if so, would that give her the impression that you don’t care?”

“Why do I have the feeling you’re asking if it is for a woman?” he eased in the seat next to me, looking at me with sudden interest. My look of distress probably confirmed it for him, but he did not prod, and I was silently grateful for it.

“But to your question, yes, absolutely, countless times, in fact, till it becomes an irrational fear. But I love my daughter, and I’d do everything in my willpower to make sure she’s heard and understood. Girls—they hold a great level of emotional capacity that we, as men, will sometimes be at loss, but it all dials down to conscious effort, no? You keep trying, you’ll get there.”

The plane eventually landed and I paid Keith what was due for the cookies. We exchanged name cards, thanked me for our hearty conversation and we went on our separate ways. The second I made way past the arrival gate, John was already waiting for me by the luggage retrieval area with the usual stoic look on his face and a platonic wave of a hand.

Travelers rolled their luggage across the busy airport grounds, kids looking excited for a trip and adults looking exhausted from one who seemed to be yearning for some peace and quiet because of endless chatter that filled the night air once more and it didn’t seem like it had a pause button on it all.

Yeah, I’ll admit—a change of scenery was great, but it was good to be back home.

The drive back home to my parents’ place was a distance away, so I had John update me with whatever I had missed in the last couple of days. But for some reason, he had left out Erika’s name on purpose, but I did not mind.

I wanted to find out how she was doing on my own.

The car was approaching the usual hedge of roses that lined the entrance to the large estate where my family and other households lived. It was only when I moved away that a rose hedge had sprung out of nowhere. “Hey John, would you mind pulling over for a bit? I forgot something.”

“Sure.”

I got out of the car and approached the reds among the thick greens and snapped a few stems of roses, wincing after I realized I was pricked. It was pretty dark outside, the dimly lit lamps were not much of a help either.

“I hope those are for Erika, Sir.”

“Why do you say that?”

He cleared his throat once he realized he was prying. “It’s okay, I won’t fire you.” I said with a grin.

“She hasn’t spoken much in the last few days. Well, at least that was what I had observed at the office. Lucien had tried coaxing her but to no avail either. Forgive me if I seem to be prying, but I can’t help but wonder if it was you who pissed her off?”

“You’ve grown much more daring now, haven’t you? Erika is a terrible influence on you John.” I scoffed. John said nothing. I blew out a low whistle and slammed the car door shut and muttered to myself. Yeah, I guess that’s on me alright.

“Then I’m not so sure a few wild roses would do the job,” My secretary interjected.

“And what makes you so sure about that?” I raised a brow and stared outside the window.

“You’d really want to argue with a married man who knows more about mood swings and time of the months than you—a single bachelor?”

“God dammit John.”

The car came to a standstill halt at the Crawfords’ driveway. Feeling the rush of blood through my ears and the relentless, pulsating throb at my wrist, I got out of the car and told John to go right home, but not before telling him I was not a single man no more, but I swear I heard something about, ‘not after tonight.’

I waited until the car was gone from sight before I started climbing up to her room once more.

Whoever said this was a romantic move clearly had the stamina of a cheetah, because the second I rolled into her balcony, my arms were shaking and some of the roses had been squashed. “God damn it.” I muttered, dusting off the tiny twigs and bits and pieces of leaves that peppered my white shirt. I looked up and there she was, standing a few inches away from me, as if she was already expecting me.

“Hi.” I breathed.

“Martin.” She breathed, her eyes shifted towards the roses in my hand, “You didn’t say you were coming.” She was dressed in a thick, dark hoodie that fell just a little above her knees and her hair was in a loose bun—just the way I’ve always liked it.

“I wanted to see you as soon as I landed.” I took a step forward towards her, “I got these for you.”

Erika reached out both her hands and held the stems carefully, admiring the petals, then frowning slightly, a little smirk crawled its way to her lips as she looked at me once more. “Mrs. Dunearn is going to kill you.”

“Those roses on the drive in were hers?” I winced.

“She marks her roses with a little white dot on a petal of each rose.” Erika managed a small smile. “See?”

“She’s not distant cousins with the Red Queen, is she?” I blurted, noting the white dots, they were indeed there. She shook her head, that little smirk disappeared altogether. We were silent for a bit, but then Erika spoke up.

“I wanted to return your calls…” she began slowly, as if it hurt her to even say it out loud.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I interjected, reassuring her with a small smile.

“Why do you say so?”

Her brows rose in confusion, but nevertheless, she allowed me to explain. “Because that would mean I get to explain and sort things out with you in person. So yes, I’m glad you didn’t pick up any of my calls.”

She sighed deeply and shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

“I’m sorry Marts, I…” her eyes faltered as quickly as they reached me. “I didn’t know what to think, or how to think. I guess I could say I was afraid of what your answer might be when Zoe suggested fixing things between you two. At that moment, I felt like I was eavesdropping on a conversation I should not be a part of, and I thought, with my absence, I’d give you time to figure things out because I did not want to push you to a corner nor let my words or actions affect you either. Although, I can’t deny that the wait almost killed me, but here you are, standing right in front of me…”

I held her cheek gently and caressed her soft skin with my thumb, a surge of unspeakable emotions flooded all over me. “I didn’t know what to think, I just wanted to be the bigger person instead of creating an argument based on those few words I’ve heard…” her fingers dusted her forehead and let out a quiet sigh.

“Perhaps…” I began speaking, as the cogwheels in my head were finally beginning to work. “I was wrong. In some ways, I did not make myself clear as to what my intentions are to you, but I will now and I will, to anyone and everyone who asks. Crawford, I’ve known you all my life; I thought I’ve seen everything that’s to be seen and know everything there is to know about you, but I can no longer deny that I’m beginning to discover sides of you I’ve not known, expressions and reactions that surprise me and of course, a touch of yours like no other.

There is still so much to discover about you, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to know it all within just a day or two, but it’s something I’d willingly do for the rest of my life if you would let me.” I paused for a moment, and she stared at me with watery eyes, biting her bottom lip.

“I’ve always been a man of few words, but yet, when I’m with you, I’m drawn to bicker with you, coax you, reason with you and offer you advice, but above all, I want to listen to what you have to say because Erika Crawford, I see you as my equal and I see no other.”

A stray tear left the corner of her right eye as she squeezed my hand gently, and I returned that squeeze, hoping my touch could convey those strong, pent-up emotions I had for her.

“Martin, I hope you mind if I can’t put any of my feelings and emotions into words right now because, what I feel for you, I reckon there aren’t enough words in the English dictionary that I could weave together and tell you how I feel about you.” She sucked in a deep breath and let out a shaky breath. “You make me fall harder for you with each passing day Castellano. I’d never thought that there’d come a day that I would say this out loud but, I am in love with my best friend.”

“As am I, Crawford. For I am inexplicably, undeniably in love with all of you.”

I leaned in and kissed her forehead, then peppered the side of her temple with a kiss, trailing them down her cheek and jaw and I hovered my lips just above hers. Her eyes met mine with the softest look in them—her emotions were represented in little sparks of light on the surface of those dark orbs.

That’s when I knew, even the lack of words from her, the mere, longing gaze from her eyes and the feather light touch of her hand against my face told me everything I wanted and needed to hear from her. Her expressions were reflections of what she felt about me, about us. And with that alone, I was already contented.