Magic Ball: the Billionaire in Ranch

73 Unsure But Certain

Diana’s eyes are unnerving against Noah’s silhouette, the sun’s orange hue painting his back. His shirt was the blank canvas, while the sun’s vivid rays are the paint she never knew she would use. Noah's back was hunched, the smoke on Fitch's cigarette flowing at the dimming sky. The clouds' patches were no longer visible, the stars a speck of dust covering the entire atmosphere. 

The intensity of her stare made Noah flinch. He knew she was still looking at him, and he couldn’t stand it. Her presence would make him shriek, and Noah knew it was wrong to choose between two women. He should have considered Joanna’s feelings first as she was the person whom Noah had in his heart before Diana entered the plains of his farmhouse. He hadn’t even considered the blond woman’s feelings. The fast pumping of his heart could have been from the guilt that formed in his mind; how can he so much as think that he had to choose between the two of them? The answer was obviously to consider his relationship with Joanna. The brunette openly conveyed her feelings toward him. She didn’t hide behind the bush. Diana was a whole different story. She was trying to implore if they share the same sentiments, but she wouldn't reveal it even if Noah took the initiative to have her come to the farmyard every weekend.

With a loud sight, Noah leaned one elbow on the balcony’s railing. He had ill intentions—he has a motive. He wanted Diana to notice how he feels through his accommodations. If she was as outright as Joanna, Noah would have professed his love for her immediately. But Diana was a puzzle piece—she didn’t have a missing portion, and instead, she was the puzzle you needed to complete before you figure out what she was thinking. Joanna was direct, but Diana would always take the complicated paths.

The unburnt end of the cigarette found its way inside Noah’s mouth. He pumped smoke and blew it out like it was patches of clouds.

Beside him, Fitch fixed his collar, “She’s still looking at you.”

The burn in Noah’s throat spread throughout his chest. It collided with pain, and together, they made him realize that he was choosing Joanna even though he already has feelings for Diana. The feelings he had, it’s unstoppable, unless he hears from Diana’s mouth that she didn’t like him. It was the ending Noah visioned, despite his clouded mind. It was the ending he needed.

The groan came out of Noah—he was frustrated. He needs to take her home and have Fitch succeed with his love endeavors.

His Italian friend arched an eyebrow, the cigarette alight between his fingers, “What? You’re not going to talk to her?”

Noah managed a croaked, “No,” before he slowly walked away from the view below. The lump on his throat burned as he took heavy steps toward his room.

The wind then decided to fly her way, made her natural curls wave with it. Diana had her hand keep her golden strings in place. Her heart skipped a beat when Noah walked away, the top his head fading with the sun’s glory.

Fitch looked back and forth between the two of them. A forced smile formed his lips as he tucked one hand behind him. His voice resonated, and it was loud enough for Diana to understand. “Must have been tired with all his errands,” he reasoned as his eyes twitched. Diana saw the pity circling his irises.

Then, the squeeze made her bite her lower lip. She bowed her head, staring aimlessly at her hands clutched on Snowflake’s reins.

As if the mare sensed her shift of mood, she stomped her feet on the ground. It was a gentle move that made Diana come out of her trance.

She caressed the mare’s silky hair, a smile appearing on her pink lips, “I’m fine, girl.”

Diana didn’t know if what she’s saying also represents her feelings.

Noah had been way kind—even better than she initially thought he would. The man let her inside his ranch, had her use his intelligent horses, and had always made her feel comfortable and protected the best way possible. Diana wanted to know him—she wanted to be the person who knows him best. The word "but" would come around when she finally thinks she has made a rational decision. The doubt ate away her confidence. She was not the conventional beauty. In fact, she looked plain and dull despite the brightness of her hair. She was often bullied in school for looking deathly pale, reminding her that her thick-rimmed glasses was something that represents her personality: a boring girl that wouldn't get out of her shell. And until now, Diana never forgot their taunting. The men that attempted to burst her bubble only made her question her confidence. The lingering question of what if made her uneasy—what if he leaves her? Finds her not attractive at all? What if he cheats with a beauty? What if he wasn't the person whom she thought he would be? It pestered her in every relationship she had attempted to work out. 

Looking at the now sky covered in stars, Diana’s chest squeezed—it was so tight she thought she couldn’t breathe. The words were stuck on her tongue, and it protested against being released—to be unsheathed from the scabbard that protected the blade that would pierce right through Noah's heart. Diana wasn't blind. She ideally knew that Noah wanted to hear those precious words, but Diana was unsure of him. She didn’t want to take a path that would lead her astray to the one she envisioned she would arrive at.

Snowflake stomped her feet again. Diana felt her behind float from the impact. Then, she whipped her head to where Noah and Fitch had been earlier on.

Diana found it fascinating—the mare really knows what she’s trying to express.

“I’m—” Diana halted. She looked at her quivering fingers. Raising it before her face, she was really shaking.

Her face found neutrality, "I'm fine…" she spoke those words not only to answer Snowflake but also to assure herself that she isn't the least bit affected by Noah's actions.

Snowflake neighed, the sound comparable with that of a sigh. Diana chuckled, her hand patting Snowflakes' neck.

Making a clicking sound with her tongue, Diana and Snowflake went back inside the stables.

The next day, Fitch had his collar in a loop. He faced Noah's car's mirror just to be sure that he was entering the police station, looking like a decent human being. Scratch that, actually. He wants to look in par with the police officer he had wanted to pursue the moment she stepped within his line of view. Whether it was love at first sight—if there was such a thing—whatever this feeling is called, Fitch was ready to accept whatever answer she has.

Noah rests his back on his inclined seat. His friend wore a black shades that would keep his vision protected from the sun’s early morning light. Fitch told him it didn’t hurt at all, but Noah insisted that every light stings when it hit his eyes. So, Fitch just shrugged him off, and the two of them embarked on a quest to made the prettiest police officer agree to a date he couldn’t wait to arrange.

“Do you think she’s single?” Fitch inquired as he combed his hair back.

Noah sat upright, “Bloody Fitch! You mean to stay that you didn’t know if she had someone else?”

Shaking his head several times, Fitch replied, “I didn’t have the courage to ask by then.”

"What will you do if she's married? If she has like five children, she needs to support? Would you still be willing to make her yours?"

Silence hovered above them, but as usual, Fitch broke the wall. He came prepared, his face a mix of determination. His eyes glowing with the authentic feeling in his heaving chest.

“Whatever her answer is, that would be the standard for my actions.”

He awaited his best friend’s reaction. Noah had his lips pressed in a thin line, his face in neutrality. He didn’t talk for a while, the bags under his eyes still visible even in his black shades.

Crossing his arms over his broad chest, Noah let out an exhausted sigh. Fitch had no idea why he looked so grim when he woke-up this morning. Fitch guessed that there must have been something going on in his mind, and it kept him awake at night.

The answer was evident that Fitch didn't need to point it out for his friend. Noah was as transparent as a crystal. Even though he always had a poker face, Fitch can guess what's behind his facades. It must have been something to do with Joanna and Diana. The guy looked torn yesterday, whether he should greet her or ignore the urge to go down and enclose the woman in his arms. It wasn't Noah's way at all. He never told anyone how he feels, but everyone knew how he thought about it when he expressed it. And through Fitch's observation, Noah had already developed Diana's feelings, but he didn't know if Diana reciprocated it.

Opening the car’s door, Fitch ducked his head, “I will see you in a bit?” he said it as a question so that he would be able to hear Noah’s answer.

Noah had his hands already in the gear, "Call me. Make sure you hear her, yes."

Fitch suddenly felt the jitters on his feet, “Now that you mentioned it, I’m kind of getting scared.”

He earned a laugh from his melancholic friend, “Oh, you can do it! It’s not like you’re someone she can easily toss aside.”

Minutes later, when Fitch had finally entered the police station, Cora proved to be someone who is capable of tossing him aside like he was nothing but the garbage that needs to be segregated.

In front of the station, the guard asked him what he needs to Cora, and Fitch answered that he wants to have a word with the tough woman. The guard raised his eyebrows and used the phone on his left hand to call someone from the inside. He nodded his head even though the person at the other end of the line couldn’t see what he was doing. When the guard placed the phone back, he stared Fitch from head to toe.

“Cora says you need to wait in the lounge.”

A whole hour went by, and he hadn’t heard from Cora at all. The tampering of Fitch’s feet intensified as the seconds went by. He was willing to take all the time in the world, but he wished that Cora could say something—kind of like an assurance that she would meet him here.

Fitch had none of it.

The despise he had for crowded places heightened his senses. He didn’t want to wait, but if Cora says so, he was willing to do it until he couldn’t see anyone passing by the entrance anymore.

Saying that his feelings were genuine and innocent was an understatement. In reality, Fitch wanted to get into her good graces. He wanted Cora to see him as someone capable of being with her—he wants to get to know her, perhaps well enough that Cora would agree to take the next steps in their relationship. As of now, everything he had thought of was a mere foggy dream. And whether it would come true was an afore long-told story that didn't have a concrete ending. But Fitch hopes for the conclusion that would benefit them, if more, for Cora. It's the first time he felt this way, and he didn't want to let it go.

Inclining his head to the side, he noticed a woman scanning her authority within her vicinity. His heart thumped with impatience as Cora stared at him. Her eyes were hazel in color, and it was in contrast with his gray ones.

Placing her hands on her hips, Cora’s lips in a thin line.

Fitch didn't know whether she was glad or deeply disappointed with whom she saw.

“I believe we have seen each other…”

“Yes,” Fitch answered without any hesitation, “yes, we have,” he repeated with eagerness.

Cora’s rich, honey-colored eyes narrowed. In a few seconds, the recognition flashed in her face. The blush spread all over the bridge of her nose, and then onto her cheeks. Her hands involuntarily hid away her eyes.

“Oh, please leave.”