Old Soul Fate

CHAPTER THREE: MIA

CHAPTER THREE

MIA

My World, My Chaos.

It puzzles me how life tends to flip on us. One moment you are an accountant, piling up records, the next you are signing a marriage contract with a sick young man that’s presumed to be dead before his thirties. I had to give this choice of mine to karma, I guess…?

It had a detailed list of all my heart’s wishes and now I'm paying off one, that’s to discover the type of intoxicating type of love I read in books of times and classical histories.

My parents were an epitome of what an old movie scene would look like, blurry beige scenes with warm cocoa tea that sits calmly at the tip of your tongue, encouraging a vibrant smile that flashes in the camera pic. Their love never dimmed it light until her soul took an unexpected departure, leaving my dad in a darkness only him could not understand but preferred to be consumed by it. And he was.

I was too embarrassed to look Alice in the eyes as I sat beside her, making sure there was enough distance for our voice to mellow down with the air. She paused in her low laughter as she observed my reaction to her stares.

“You signed a marriage contract with room 3”, it sounded more like a question than a statement. Alice's voice held much curiosity than the judgment I was expecting from her. I imagined her giving me one of her life lectures about guys and what marriage could turn an adult woman into, but in reality she was more of my therapist than a friend.

“His name is Simon Spears, Alice…Don't get all wrapped up about it”, I’m now checking for her things through some stacked up cupboards, she had more disposable plates crumpled up in here than actual clothes for women her size. It was finally time for her to exit this room, she had too much energy to be choked up, those were the exact words she told the nurse before she yanked the IV drip off her hand, I rushed inside the room at that exact moment.

‘I guess I now understand the sigh of relief and the smile the nurse gave me, as I entered for damage control’.

“Spears…I have heard that name…. Hmm, the mogul family. They are bloody rich with connections.,”

I know it should have excited me that I had just signed a marriage contract with a wealthy young man who is liable to be dead in a couple of months but that was not the case. I guess we both have something in common, we were running out of time and options.

Alice giggles her way out of the bed, as she rushes to sit near me on the sofa, she gives me that curious gaze that contains mischief and I knew where she was going with that smile.

“You! My beautiful friend has just bagged not only a husband but an insanely rich one”, she holds my shoulder tightly jerking me into an uncomfortable motion, as she makes her signature laughter commands a room.

“How did it happen?”, she watches as I take short breaths, then my lips open, with the thought of what had actually transpired between me and that green eyed man that consumed my thought. I was truly captivated by him. Wasn’t I?

If there was a saying, ‘Don’t follow your heart, sometimes use your brain’, it should be meant for me, cause for no reason entirely my walk to the small coffee shop in the hospital has been filled with those eyes that I desperately wanted to get rid of. There’s no doubt that ticking one thing off my bucket list would look fine in print, but could someone as handsome as him not actually have a girlfriend tied to him, I bet she was already on an early flight back to see him and kiss him and all those sorts.

I look down at the coffee with a heart designed laced on it, like the attendant knew exactly what I was thinking about, I s***h my card by the machine and quietly take a sip, walking towards the elevator till I crash into something steady or someone steady instead. ‘For f**k’s sake…Mia’

“Oh My Word, I’m so sorry…So sorry”,

I look up to meet warm wandering eyes, with a head full of brown curls that is roughed up either by a full on bed rest or it styled out naturally like that and parted at the side. The combination of his fair skin and fitted black sweater was a striking match, a sweater that I had just ruined and could cost more than this lame ole coffee.

“It’s okay, Miss James”, my eyes flew to his face as he utters my surname, like it was at the back of his palm. He looked at me with the same curious gaze that I gave him.

“Your tag, it’s on your shirt”, my direction went back to my shirt as I saw the tag they had put on my arrival to the hospital. He had the same one on his sweater…” Mr. Spears’’

“Yes, I’m Spears and I need to clean this up, can I?”, he gestures for me to move from blocking his path to the napkins. I rushed quickly before he did and got as much as possible then wiped his sweater like I was scrubbing walls, it felt like bricks stacked up against each other, he was a fine build of a man. He looks back down at me, reaching out for my slender hands.

“It can’t get any cleaner than this”, he surveys his shirt, and I follow his eyes that meet dulled stains all mapped out in different areas of his sweater, but he looks up and meets my eyes with a smile.

“I’m good, don’t sweat. And the sweater doesn’t even cost much”.

He smirks at me and I return it with a soft shake of my head. Seems God was testing my will to hold on to my virginity today. And I would probably fail, cause why the heck I’m seeing this set of handsome men in the hospital of all places. Were they all sick or what!

I pushed the thought away for a while and forced my tongue to make words instead, “At least, let me get you coffee, then”.

“No one refuses a good cup of coffee. I’ll take that offer with a scone. Thank you. Beautiful”. He replies me

‘Oh My Lord, he remembered my face, what did I say that back there, another incident again, at the same person. It would look like I was stalking him now’, I took a glance and buried my head in shame and my voice took over, “I didn’t mean to say that out loud…It…just, came out?’’

He flashes that wholly smile at me and I feel more ease and comfortable around him,

“But you meant it. Didn’t you?”, he asked.

Yes, I did… I meant no… I just…”, he laughed out as he pulled my toes with his questions. I haven’t been put in so much tension with questions before, he is such a tease.

We walked back to the coffee shop and I placed two different orders, he weaves through the shop until he set his eyes at a mother and her child in a wheelchair, I look at them along with him and I don’t know but I couldn’t just pinpoint what stirred up inside him, when the woman kissed her child on his forehead. His eyes crinkled in the corners making his smile more genuine as he looked back at me.

“Here, we are”, he said as the coffee finally came out, we both turned the cups simultaneously and took sips of it. We both continued to smile at each other and I realized I was enjoying myself in one of the few places I liked, hospitals were not my thing, at all. I don’t know why or how we seemed to click but I guess the spill of coffee was a good accident.

“So what are you in here for, If I may ask?”,

he leans his hand on the table, in between his coffee, while locking eyes with me. I’m trying to get in control of his stares, they were like mysteries, like he was observing and unfolding me before I even uttered a word.

“I’m here for my friend, she just got into a minor accident”.

Since I couldn’t get the code for his gaze. I just follow anything in sight other than his eyes. I hope he doesn’t notice my efforts.

“And you, what are you in for”

“I’m diagnosed to die before my forties. So let’s say, I’m really sick”,

he takes a sip and I don’t feel like asking any more questions than what I already asked.

I paused, taking in the weight of his words. His confession hung in the air, thick and heavy, but he didn’t seem burdened by it. Instead, there was an odd tranquility about him, as if he’d come to terms with his fate long ago. I admired that, even if it unnerved me.

“Wow, that’s… I don’t even know what to say,” I finally managed.

“You don’t have to say anything,”

he replied softly, his smile barely faltering.

“It’s just life, you know? Everyone’s got their battles. Mine just happens to have a pretty clear finish line.”

I nodded, though the idea of someone my age being so close to that line made my heart ache. We sipped our coffee in silence for a moment, the bustle of the coffee shop fading into the background.

“So, what do you do?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation to lighter ground.

“I’m a writer,” he said, surprising me.

“I figured if I have a limited amount of time, I might as well spend it creating something that outlasts me. Stories, essays, poems… anything that might carry a piece of me into the future.”

“That's… actually really beautiful,” I said, genuinely impressed.

“I’ve always thought about writing, but I never seem to find the time.”

“Time’s such a funny thing,”

he mused, tracing the rim of his coffee cup with his finger.

“It’s either your worst enemy or your best friend, depending on how you look at it.”

I found myself leaning forward, captivated by his perspective. He wasn’t just someone who had accepted his fate; he was someone who had found a way to live with it, to find beauty in the finite. It was inspiring, and I felt a strange pull toward him, as if he held some secret I desperately wanted to understand.

“What kind of things do you write about?” I asked, genuinely curious now.

“Life, mostly. The things that matter. Infinite state of emotions, love, the fleeting nature of existence.” His eyes flicked back to the mother and child across the room. “I’m always chasing after those moments that feel like they could last forever, hanging over you like bad air,even though I know they can’t.”

We fell into another silence, but this one felt different. It wasn’t awkward or strained. It was the kind of silence that felt shared, like we were both comfortable just being in each other’s company. I felt myself opening up to him in a way I hadn’t expected.

He studied me for a moment, his gaze no longer intimidating but inviting.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” he started, his tone shifting into something more serious. “I don’t have much time left, but I want to make the most of it. I want to experience everything I can, and I think I want to do that with someone who understands the value of every moment.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I couldn’t look away from him. There was something in his eyes—something deeper than the mystery I’d sensed before. It was almost like a plea, but one made with such quiet confidence that it didn’t feel like he was asking for a favor. It felt like an invitation.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice almost a whisper.

“I want to spend whatever time I have left with someone who won’t take it for granted. Someone who’ll live in those moments with me, who’ll make them matter. I know it sounds crazy—we just met—but sometimes you just know when something’s right. And this feels right.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, placing it gently on the table between us. My eyes flicked to it, curiosity and apprehension mingling in my chest.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he said quietly. “I’ve had lawyers draw it up, and it’s all legal. It’s a contract—a marriage contract, actually. No strings attached, no obligations, just a promise to spend the time we have left together. To be there for each other. And when… when the time comes, you’ll be taken care of. My family, well, they’re wealthy, and they’ll see to it that you’re compensated.”

I stared at the paper, my mind reeling. This was absurd. We barely knew each other, and yet… there was something undeniably compelling about his offer. He wasn’t asking for love, or even a traditional relationship. He was asking for a companion, someone to share his final days with, to make them count.

“You don’t have to say yes,” he added quickly, sensing my hesitation.

“I just thought… I thought it might be worth considering. I’m not looking for pity, or charity. I’m offering you an opportunity to be part of something different, something that could change both of our lives.”

I took a deep breath, my mind racing. This was insane. But at the same time, it wasn’t. There was a strange sort of logic to it, a clarity that cut through the noise of my doubts. He was right—sometimes, you just know when something’s right.

I met his gaze, and this time, I didn’t look away.

“Okay,” I said slowly.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

His smile was soft, almost sad, but there was a flicker of relief in his eyes. He unfolded the contract and handed me a pen. As I signed my name next to his, I felt a strange sense of calm settle over me. This was crazy, yes, but it was also something more. It was a choice, a leap into the unknown, and I had a feeling it would be a journey worth taking.

He took the paper back, folding it neatly and slipping it into his pocket. “Thank you,” he said softly.

I just nodded, unable to find the right words. We finished our coffee in silence, but it was the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. We had an unspoken understanding, a shared sense of purpose, and for now, that was enough.