Bound to the Seduction (Free to read)

Chapter 24: Closure I

One evening, Sarah came back only to find Brandon waiting for her at the gate. He seemed not to have seen a barber in a long time because his ever-skillfully trimmed beard now covered his face. The shirt that used to fit him nicely now hung loosely over his body. A trace of surprise flashed in her eyes but quickly disappeared. She clenched her fists and walked straight to him. "What are you doing here?"

Her sudden voice startled him. "Sarah, you are back." He took a step forward and pulled her into a crushing hug. His scent filled her nostrils, and she felt suffocated. The scent that she once loved disgusted her. She struggled out of his embrace, and sensing her rejection, he tightened his arms around her and added, "You have to stay away from him. He is not a good person."

"Are you?"

His back stiffened, and he let go of her. Yes, he wasn't a good man either. Sarah pushed him out of her way, wanting to leave. He grabbed her arm, and she had no choice but to turn around and face him. She tried to peel his hand away, but Brandon held her hand with a death grip. "Sarah, let's talk," he begged.

Sarah suddenly stopped struggling and looked him straight in the face. She contemplated on something for a while, and her lips curved into a smile. She seemed to have made a decision. "Yeah, we need to talk."

His grip on her hand loosened, and he led her into the car. He got into the car and drove off.

***

Brandon kept glancing at Sarah, sitting in the front passenger seat, from time to time, but she did not spare a single glance at him. The damn trees outside the window seemed interesting to her than talking to him. He swallowed hard, knowing he earned that. The words he'd carefully crafted stuck in his throat.

Curly hair looked good on her, and his fingers itched to touch those silky curls framing her face. Her slender fingers, which he liked to touch, fiddled with her phone. Her beautiful nails were short and rounded without nail polish, but it did not diminish her elegance. She loved filing her nails short, yet he always criticized. He glanced at her empty ring finger, and his heart twitched. The ring that should have been there was nowhere to be seen. She had long gotten rid of it, just like how she had gotten rid of him.

Silence.

An awkward silence.

He had begged for a chance to talk, but now that she agreed, he didn't know what to say. Where should he start? Should he get to the point, or play around with words?

"How have you been?" Brandon finally said as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. Why didn't he ever realize that starting a conversation was this hard?

"Good," Sarah said without sparing him a glance.

Did you miss me? That's what he wanted to ask, but instead, "I heard your mom had a relapse a few weeks ago. How is she doing?"

"She's doing fine. Thanks for asking," Sarah responded indifferently.

"What about your financial situation?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road. He glanced at her from the side and noticed her raised brows. He quickly clarified, in case she misunderstood, "I mean... You know... the bills and everything."

"Well, I haven't starved yet, so I guess I'm fine."

Brandon was silent for a long time. All they could hear was the soft humming of the engine and occasional cars passing by. He kept opening and closing his mouth because the words stuck in his throat. Sarah's responses made it difficult to continue a conversation. The silence suffocated him. "Why didn't you tell me you were fired?"

Sarah sat upright and turned to face him. "I was going to tell you that day, but then you surprised me. After that, it didn't matter anymore whether I told you or not. As for why I got fired, you can ask your little lover. They are indeed a family of dishonest people. One stole my fiancé, and the other stole my proposal."

"Let's talk over coffee," Brandon said after she finished talking and pulled over to a nearby coffee shop. He got out of the car and walked around the car to open Sarah's door. She stepped out of the car like a queen, and they entered the café. They sat at an empty table near the window that offered a great view of the intersection.

Brandon ordered a latte while Sarah asked for tea. She wasn't a coffee person, but always took it because he liked it. As they waited for their order, Brandon asked, "Why didn't you ever use my card? I've never received any notification of your usage after so long, so I went to the bank to check it out. It turns out you've never touched a single cent."

Sarah smiled as she played with the cuticles of her nails. "It's nothing. It is just that since I was young, I've never liked to depend on others. I prefer to spend my hard-earned cash. I was planning to use that card in the future when we have kids."

Brandon didn't know if he should be happy or sad about her response. Before he could speak again, his coffee and her tea arrived. He whispered a few words to the waiter, and a few minutes later, the waiter returned with an exquisite see-through gift box with a pink ribbon. He passed to her the chocolate cookies he'd ordered for her.

She glanced at the cookies on the table but did not take them. They were arranged nicely on a small plate with the message 'I'm sorry' written in pink. She only shook her head and sighed, "Brandon, we've been together for so long, but you never realized that I don't like chocolates."

Brandon's expression turned awkward, indicating he had no idea about her special hatred. He knew very little about her likes, much less her dislikes.

"And if you had been a little more attentive, you would have realized that I hate pink," she said, fiddling with the pink ribbon on the cookie box.

His eyes landed on the pink details on the cookies, and he had nothing to say. Now that he thought about it, he had never seen her wearing anything pink. There was nothing in their house of that color, and even her flowers did not have pink blooms. He also remembered that she had never worn those pink sneakers he bought her last year, but never bothered to find out why.

Sarah let him digest the information before throwing another bomb: "I also take birthdays very seriously."

Oh, shoot! He had forgotten to celebrate her previous birthday, and she was at odds with him for almost a month. At that time, he had thought she was making a fuss over a small matter. Wasn't it just a birthday?

Sarah took a sip of her tea and pursed her lips. "Actually, there is a lot more about me that you don't know and never bothered to find out. Do you want to hear it?"

Brandon nodded, but his hands tightened around his coffee mug. "Yes, I want to hear it," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

Sarah had to admit that this was the first time she'd seen Brandon so nervous. How laughable. She adjusted her posture to a more comfortable one and started narrating her story in a relaxed manner as if she were talking about a stranger and it all had nothing to do with her.

"When my father left, I was about to turn seven that year. I found out about it on my seventh birthday, and it broke me. My mom probably had it the worst. She acted fine in front of me and my brother, but she would cry herself to sleep every night. She thought I didn't know about it, but I peeked through her bedroom door at night sometimes, and I would hear her muffled sobs.

"Slowly, my mom descended into depression. I watched her drink alcohol for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and sometimes, she woke up in the middle of the night to grab a bottle. For the next few years, I don't remember seeing my mom sober. The bottle was her only companion. It seemed to lessen her pain, or perhaps she could forget her sorrows, even if it was just for a little while. I never understood her at that time, but now I do.

"With her drinking, it was only a matter of time before she lost her job, and it didn't take long before we were in debt. A few years later, she got better, but then she was diagnosed with diabetes, heart disease, and peptic ulcers. Although she struggled to make ends meet, she couldn't take care of us anymore with her frail body. As the oldest child, I took over the responsibility of providing for the family at a young age.

"All this time, I hated my dad. I still do. Every time I saw my mom in such a terrible condition, the hatred in my heart would increase. Slowly, that hatred seeped into my bones, and I hated all men. I felt like all the men in the world would be like him. My younger brother, Glen, and my childhood friend, Robert, were the only men I could trust.

"Then you came into my life." She paused and sipped her tea. She glanced at Brandon, smiled, and continued, "At first, I wanted nothing to do with you. I didn't want to get hurt like my mom. In my mind, a relationship was synonymous with pain. But you persisted. My frozen heart thawed, and I started talking myself out of my bias.

"I had this small glass jar where I would write everything good about you on a piece of paper and put it inside. I called it 'the happy jar'. Whenever I found a good reason to be with you, it didn't matter where I was; I would scribble it down and put it in a jar. I read them out whenever the hatred in my heart overwhelmed me. And gradually, I didn't hate the idea of being in a relationship as much. That's how you and I got into this relationship."

She sipped a mouthful of tea again and looked at Brandon, who listened attentively. His hands hadn't moved from his mug the whole time. She sighed, "But who would have thought that years later, I would be nursing a broken heart? Ironic, right?"

Brandon's eyes never left her face. His chest tightened, and every word she uttered cut deep into his heart. She had taken him through a roller coaster of emotions, and at the moment, he did not know how to feel. He experienced pain, anger, regret, happiness, and sadness, all at once. His lips curved into a bitter smile. Sarah had finally opened her heart to him, but sadly, she wasn't his anymore.

He stared at a single point on the table for an eternity. He took a deep breath, pulled himself together, and sat up. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely audible. "Is it possible for us... to get back together?"