CHAPTER TWO
1257 Words
Behind Evelyne stood Willard, looking as handsome as ever in a black shirt and neatly ironed pants.
"Fancy seeing you here," his voice still carried that deep, soothing melody.
"I can't believe you're here," Evelyne said, grinning.
"May I?" He gestured to the empty spot on the bench next to her.
"Oh, he is a gentleman," she thought, giving him a small nod.
He sat beside her, leaning back against the bench.
She turned slightly to face him. "I didn’t think I’d see you again."
"Well, I couldn’t let that happen now, could I?" he said with a small smile, his eyes locking with hers.
"And I know you’ve been dying to see my handsome face again," he added, his smirk turning cocky.
She rolled her eyes, smiling. "Oh, please."
They both chuckled, a comfortable silence settling between them.
"So, I didn't get to know anything about you. You were awfully quiet that night," Willard said, still smirking.
Obviously, she couldn't say anything. She had been too busy being shocked that the most handsome guy she'd ever met was protecting her and walking her home. But she didn't say that out loud. "I could say the same about you. Tell me about yourself."
He went quiet for a moment, like he was thinking about what to say. After a few seconds, he spoke up. "Well, I'm Willard… um, my other name isn’t important right now. I'm twenty-six, I live around the same area where you almost got yourself killed," he paused, smiling, "and I don't really have any hobbies."
She raised a brow. "So you won’t tell me your surname, and you don’t have hobbies. Okay… so what do you like?"
"Women," he responded without hesitation.
She was taken aback. "Women?"
"Yes, women. What else should a guy like? I mean, I'm not gay—last I checked," he said, smirking.
Evelyne burst into laughter. "No, I meant what do you like, like books or coffee, not your s****l orientation!"
"Oh... shoot, I'm sorry," he chuckled. "Well, I like coffee, books... and you."
Her face turned bright red, and she quickly faced forward. "Wow... cool."
He smirked, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "You seem like a George Foreman kind of lady."
Her attention snapped back to him, her smile widening at the mention of her favorite author. "He's only, like, the best author to talk about social diversity without making it feel like a textbook for grumpy old men."
He chuckled warmly.
Hours passed as the sun set. They talked about everything, surprising themselves with how similar they were and how much they liked the same things.
It was getting late. The stars twinkled overhead, and the park was nearly empty, save for a few stragglers and the night guard with his dog.
"I really enjoyed talking to you today," Evelyne smiled.
"Yeah, it’s hard to find a beautiful and interesting girl. Guess I got lucky," he said, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, making her blush.
"Can I get your number? You know, so I don’t go three months without seeing you again," he teased, handing her his phone.
She blushed, took the phone, entered her number, and handed it back.
"So, can I drive you home? if you’re okay with that," he offered.
She thought for a moment, but the way he smiled made her brain turn to mush, and she just nodded.
He stood, helping her up. He towered over her as they walked to his car.
It was a black Rolls-Royce, the latest model by the look of it.
"Rich too? Could he be any more perfect?" she thought as he opened the passenger door for her and helped her in.
He got into the driver's seat, and the car roared to life as he pulled away from the curb.
There was a comfortable silence in the car, the only sounds were the humming engine, the soft buzz of the AC, and the occasional honking of distant traffic.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, a small smile tugging at his lips.
They reached her house, and he parked. Silence filled the car for a few seconds before Evelyne finally spoke.
"Thank you," she said, smiling at him.
He didn't answer immediately, his eyes roaming over her face like he was trying to memorize every detail. "You're welcome," he said softly.
She got out, shut the door gently, and waved goodbye. She couldn’t help but watch the car disappear into the night with a soft smile on her face.
SIX MONTHS LATER
A year had passed since their second encounter, and their relationship had blossomed. Eventually, they officially got together.
This was the happiest time of Evelyne’s life since losing her parents.
Willard was an amazing partner. He still had his confident, cocky side, but he was deeply in love with her, always checking on her, bringing her snacks when she felt down, and simply being there.
And the cherry on top? He was rich, very rich. His family were big Russian politicians, and he was in the family business , making him one of the youngest billionaires in the country. Oh, and she definitely got a taste of it.
He spoiled her, getting her anything she even slightly showed interest in, from dresses to gadgets, even cars.
But deep down, Evelyne couldn’t shake the strange feeling she had ever since the night they met, like he was hiding something.
She had never met his family, never even seen his family home.
He always took her to a house where only he lived and she knew that had to change.
One evening, they were lounging on his couch. He was working on his laptop while she sat beside him, pretending to scroll through her phone.
"Hey, can I ask you something?" she said, setting her phone down and folding her legs on the couch to face him.
"Yeah, what’s up?" he answered, his eyes still on his work.
"Why haven’t you introduced me to your family?" she asked, her expression filled with curiosity.
He froze. His body stiffened for a moment before he quickly masked it, returning to typing like nothing happened.
"Didn’t see the need," he replied flatly.
She raised a brow, her tone shifting from curious to slightly hurt. "You didn’t see the need to introduce me to your parents?"
He shrugged. "My parents are difficult. Not exactly the best company."
"Or maybe... you’re embarrassed to introduce your family to someone who isn’t rich like you," she accused, a hint of pain in her voice.
He turned to her slowly, his face a mix of shock and hurt. "What?"
"That’s the only explanation I can think of. I haven’t seen a single family member—not even the brother you once mentioned," she said, crossing her arms.
He stared at her, genuinely hurt. "That’s not it. Not even close. I told you, my parents are strict and difficult. I don’t want them imposing anything on you."
"That's what you keep saying. But it’s not like I’m moving in with them. I just want to meet the parents of the person I’m with," she argued, voice raising slightly.
He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Evey, you don’t under—"
"Oh, I understand everything, Willard," she snapped, standing up to leave.
But before she could walk away, he grabbed her wrist, his grip firm but still gentle.
"Fine. We’ll go tomorrow, okay?, But don't blame me if you regret it".
- Writer
