Old Soul Fate

SIMON

CHAPTER TWO

SIMON

She's here. Right by my side, asleep. Taking light breaths as the wind simmers gentle breeze at the window. In the dead of the night, where the entire city was asleep. The sky cold and lonely, ever glowing moon tucked behind thick veils of white smoke. When the wind whistles through my curtains, I am awake to see a light through me. Silence fills my brim and the only clear thing I see, could be me, staring at each line her face could create as she shuffled closer to me. She is beautiful. A masterpiece of a madman's love.

“Mia?”, I gently whispered her name, as she threw her arm on my chest and pucker up her lips, like a fish waiting for water to live. I traced my fingers on her lips gently, they were soft like wet cherry plums. We were at it that night, rough s*x and unforgettable kisses. I always thought I was okay with her forgetting me, but each time we made love, I just made it more difficult for her to forget. I didn't understand myself and I wasn't ready either.

“Simon…Simon…Simon”, she was at it again, chanting my name out. She had been on this ritual since the night I went into a seizure. It broke me when I finally calmed down to see her face, all teared up and curled into a ball of confusion.

“I'm here, darling. I'm okay”, I whispered into her anxious mind then felt her body calmed down as she held my left arm, locking it against hers. The sound of the beeping machine behind me was the only audience to all my sleepless and passionate nights.

Running my hand through her black hair, I remembered how much I had thought about the softness of her hair and what it would feel like. But the swinging doors didn't comprehend my thoughts and cut me off. I remembered her though, her voice, her smile, her hair even. Though they used to be much longer than this. I never really fought that reassuring smile of hers that pierced through my heart, gathering all the lost simmered hope I had abandoned since I sat on this bed, with needles passing through my veins. But now that she is here, I have to force myself not to stare too much, not because of her unearthly beauty, but because she was a masterpiece even artists got lost trying to paint. I tried writing about her once, but even my ink sighed in disappointment, as I glanced at all the crumpled paper that filled my room, the results of my failed attempts. It's either a feeling or there’s something about this night that provokes me to try and write about her once more, and I already have a title, My Imperfect.

“Beautiful”,

I have never been more pleased hearing those words, but it would be a first for someone to use it on me.

Lying idle in this room, with these four white clinical walls closing in on me, that’s before this dubious illness finally wins its fight with me, it would be more appealing if my nurse allows me a drink or two but that would be my guilty penance.

As Sarah observes my pulse and IV bag, I stare at her new piece of jewelry, that picks the light that bounces off my eyes to the ceilings. Sliver, a fine asset on a woman's skin, adoring each pore with diamond would maladies to herself. Women and their jewelry were like me and this illness, we play a very inciting game of who’s going to shine the brightest.

“Nice jewelry, Sarah”, I say.

She turns around fast, as if I startled her.

“Feel free to feast your eyes upon it, Spears. Your girl is taken!”, she smiles widely as she pulls out her finger to my face, a nice cut of diamond that sat upon her finger so delicately. I nod and smile and for the first time I think of my future on this bed. I think she notices the slight grim that forms on my face as she pulls her hand to her pockets and sits next to me.

“This isn’t going to be your life, Spears. You are not too old for a girlfriend or some kind of relationship. Just don’t lose hope”. She taps my hand, assuring me.

She was better than Beth

Beth, my last nurse before Sarah. She always finds problems with my background and uses an excuse to throw her personal problems on my face. She later quit her job. There were so many things I didn’t like about her, her vexing attitude, constant nagging and the fact that she would use my room as a phone booth for her and the boyfriend, which is why we spent a lot of our time together not speaking. And she always made her entry a chaotic one every morning, I later had her banned from the evening round, since the only thing that was done was to lay the bed, Kyle would take that role aside waiting on my call. I had hoped Sarah wasn’t like Beth.

She wasn't.

“Thanks Sarah. You always have your way with words around me”,

I rolled up my sleeves, allowing her to draw blood from my veins, she then placed cotton on my green stained skin as she extracts the needle from my forearm. She walked into my bathroom and poured out some liquids. As she came out, an inhaler dropped on my side table.

“I changed your inhaler, doctor’s prescription.”. she slides a notepad by the end of my bed and gets ready for my sign to leave, but. I wasn't ready for the silence this room gives. Something else came up to my mind, something I haven't given enough thought about.

“I think it's time I get into a relationship, a normal one. I could even find a donor and add nine years to my time. Won't that be a dream”.

She smiled calmly at my peaceful dream, as if she just heard one of my wishes and would cook in a cauldron to make them come through. I raised two fingers to meet her eyes, she nodded at me, holding the door.

Then , I saw her or she saw me first. She was not a thought or another figment of my imagination. I'm not sure what to do with the fact that she just showed up in front of my door, eyes wide and quiet, staring profusely at either me or Sarah's ring.

“Beautiful”, she thought out loud and those were the only words that I held on to besides her gentle nod and how fast her steps took her to leave.

“Who's she?”, I ask Sarah, who was confused as to what she had just watched, standing quietly at the other side of the door.

“I don't know, I haven't seen her before. She might be a visitor to a patient, but what is she doing on the VIP ward”.

God really has a funny way of showing you he's listening. My wish actually took a walk in front of my room. I sit there for a moment, letting the oddness of the encounter settle in my mind. She was a complete stranger, yet something about her felt oddly familiar, like a face from a dream, materialized in the real world.

"Maybe she was lost," I suggested, more to myself than to Sarah, who was still at the door, her brow furrowed in thought.

"Maybe," she replied, but the uncertainty in her voice lingered.

I shook my head, trying to focus. There was no point in dwelling on it. But there was no remedy for forgetting a person's face I was now plagued with. I check outside and see Kyle ,all suited up in a black and white shirt, standing cautiously at my door. It was one thing to be an only child but it was another to be the sick only child of a wealthy family. My father never let me go a day without making that clear to me.

As I ponder about a stranger, I see Kyle bow his head and the door slides open to show the head of the Spears family. My dad.

I felt a wave of tension roll over me as soon as I saw my father step into the room. His presence was as imposing as ever sharp suit, graying hair perfectly styled, and that familiar stern expression that never failed to unsettle me.

“Kyle,” he greeted, his voice clipped, devoid of warmth. He didn’t ask how I was feeling, didn’t inquire about my health. That was typical.

“Dad,” I replied, forcing myself to sit a little straighter despite the weight of fatigue. I glanced over at the door where Kyle stood, his eyes trained on the floor, knowing better than to interrupt.

My father’s gaze swept across the room, taking in everything in a matter of seconds before settling back on me.

“You look pale,” he said, his tone accusatory as if it was a failing on my part.

“I’m fine,” I answered automatically, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference. He wasn’t here for pleasantries.

“Good,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Because we need to have a serious conversation. You know exactly why I’m here.”

I clenched my fists, already dreading the direction this was heading.

“I have a pretty good idea,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

He took a step closer, his gaze hardening.

“You’re not getting any younger, and neither is this family. The Spears name demands an heir, and you’re the only one who can provide that. It’s your duty.”

I felt a surge of frustration bubble up inside me, but I kept it under control. This wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“You mean it’s my duty to marry someone I don’t love, just to produce an heir, that I won't end up seeing or training?”

I shot back, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

His jaw tightened, a sign that I’d hit a nerve. “This isn’t about love, Simon. This is about legacy. The Spears family has been built on strength and tradition, not on foolish whims. Your health has been a concern, but it’s time to focus on what truly matters. You have a responsibility.”

“A responsibility?” I echoed, my voice rising despite myself. “To what? To carry on a name that means nothing to me? To live my life according to your plans? What about what I want, Dad? Does that ever factor in?”.

It never did, and deep down it broke me that he wasn't ready to know how mother's death turned me into a piece of echoes.

“What you want is irrelevant,” he snapped, his composure cracking just slightly.

“You don’t get the luxury of choosing a different path. Everything you have, everything you are, is because of this family. You owe it to us.”

I stared at him, feeling a mix of anger and despair. It was always the same—my life, my choices, all dictated by what was best for the Spears name. As if I was just a piece on a chessboard, to be moved around as he saw fit.

“And you owe me my mother?” I said, my voice quieter now, but no less firm. “What if I decide that I want to live my life on my own terms?”

He stared at me for a long moment, and I could see the disappointment in his eyes, the cold calculation as he weighed his response. I always knew the weight of guilt that sat on his shoulders but it was more fatal that I acknowledged his truth about her death.

“You won’t refuse,” he said finally, his tone icy. “Because you know what’s at stake. You know what it would mean for this family if you don’t step up. And I don’t think you’re willing to face the consequences.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the air thick with the tension between us. I felt the weight of his words pressing down on me, the impossible choice he was forcing me to make. But before I could respond, he turned away, as if the conversation was already over.

“Think about what I’ve said,” he ordered, his back to me now. “And remember, Simon, this isn’t just about you. It’s about everything we’ve built. Don’t be selfish.”

With that, he walked out of the room, leaving me sitting there, my mind swirling with the frustration and helplessness that always followed our arguments. I watched as Kyle, still silent and deferential, closed the door behind him.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. The weight of the Spears family legacy was a burden I had never wanted, yet it was one I could never seem to escape. And now, the pressure to produce an heir, to tie myself to someone for the sake of a name, was closing in on me like a noose.

But deep down, I knew that this was a battle I couldn’t win. Not against my father. Not against the expectations that had been placed on me since birth.

But maybe, just maybe, there was a way to turn the situation to my advantage. A way to give him what he wanted without completely sacrificing my own desires. And that thought, more than anything, was what gave me the strength to keep going.