CHAPTER SIXTEEN: BOQUET OF TENSION
1890 Words
LIORAÉ
“Are you enjoying working like a dog when you can rely on Evan’s wealth?” Elias – my father’s voice was the first I heard as I walked into the house.
I sighed and turned to him with a smile. “Good evening, Daddy. I hope you had a great day.”
“What is so great about the evening or the day?” He scoffed and turned his attention to the television.
It was a mystery how they all thought I was the one who had to marry into wealth so they all lived comfortably.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked. His eyes flickered from the television, where the game was on, to me and then back to it. I took it as an approval and walked to the couch, lowering myself beside him but making sure there was a reasonable distance between us.
“I dated Evan for three years; how many times did he ever get you a gift?” My voice was slow and deliberate. I needed them to see that Evan was never going to meet their needs because he was a selfish, entitled jerk who only cared about himself.
“That is because you two were still dating. I had begun speaking to him; he was going to buy a new house and car as soon as you two tied the knot.”
A snicker escaped my lips. “You are really living in a well-deluded land,” I exclaimed and shook my head.
“I dated him for three years, and not once did he ever gift me something, and you think things would change while we were married?”
I was angry at myself for seeing the red flags only now. How had it been that I was so blinded by the illusion of being in love with him that I hadn't even realised how self-centred he was? Was I also deluded like my family, thinking he was going to change once we had signed the legal deal?
“Relationships aren't all the same; nothing is set in stone, so…”
“I know,” I cut him off and sighed. “All of that is true, but how can I live with him when it’s obvious we don’t love each other?”
“You don't have to love him to get married; you just learn to live with the other person.”
“And be miserable.”
“Are you suggesting your mother and I are miserable?”
“If the shoes fit, then you might as well wear them.”
“You think you are all wise just because you are young, but I have far more experience in these things…”
“Oh, Elia, just let her be.” Maragux – my mom’s voice cut him off.
I turned shocked that she was not taking his side and telling me how foolish I was to reject Elias. I sighed as I realised it was probably because of the flower and that I needed to throw it out soon. I had no idea who sent the flower, and it could be a wrong delivery.
“And allow her to ruin our chances at getting better living conditions?” Elias snapped.
“She isn’t as foolish as we think, so maybe we give her a little credit?” she asked as she sat on the one-seat sofa.
“What…”
“Some flowers came for her this morning, the exotic kind, and they seem to be from someone else, someone richer than Evan.”
Elias gaped as he turned to me. They switched off the television; the flickering light that replaced the darkness went off, leaving us all with the light from the little lamp in the corner.
“She isn’t trying to sabotage our chances; she just seems to have someone better,” Margaux said as she clapped happily.
“If that was the case, then you should have said so. Instead of getting into a squabble with you, I could be giving you tips on how to sustain this man.” He laughed happily as he shifted in his seat.
“There is no man,” I said and felt the excitement in the room die a natural death. “The flowers were a mistake, delivered to the wrong house.”
“What?” Mragux’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What…what does that mean?” From her expression, it was safe to say she must have bragged about it already. How her daughter was catching the eye of rich young men constantly.
“Did you, brah, tell your work friends already?” I asked, and she frowned like I was the one violating her. “Mom, I am not your ticket to looking good.”
“Lioraé, this is…”
“And Dad, where am I supposed to run into a rich man when I am spending my day working?”
I was so glad they didn't know my position in the office, or they might be thinking of Soren already. I couldn't allow them to sail a boat that wasn't ready to leave shore.
“Lioraé!” An excited scream came from the doorway, and Camille entered with an even bigger bouquet than the one from this morning. My phone chimed with a message from Soren.
‘Throw out that bouquet and put mine in your room.’
“Mom, Dad, look at this. Look at what came for Lioraé.” Camille said as she hurried in, dropping the basket bouquet onto the coffee table that separated the sofa set from the television.
“What?”
“It’s signed,” Camille said as she happily took out the envelope, pulling the card and glancing over it.
“What does it say?” Margaux asked happily, sitting on the edge of her seat. I was already getting them to believe nothing was going on, which was the truth, but Soren had to ruin it all because he was jealous I got flowers.
“Soren,” Camille said. The name lingered in the air for too long, and I was grateful that it said nothing more. I could easily argue it wasn't for me. Maybe Camille had a secret admirer; there were so many excuses up my sleeves.
“It wasn’t addressed to me; what makes you so sure it’s mine? You could as well have a secret admirer who is rich.” I gestured to my sister, adding the last part intentionally so their interests got piqued by it.
“The delivery guy said it was for Lioraé Alcott,” Camille said.
Damn, Soren and his attention to detail.
“Are you still going to deny it?” my mom said as she stood up, squatting by the table beside Camille, her hand tracing the flowers.
“A man this generous would be a better fit than Evan.” Elias finally spoke. “Invite him and let us meet him; it would be good if you could fix the wedding as early as possible.”
“It’s my friend and he is just playing a prank on me because I told him about the breakup.” The lie flowed easily.
I watched their faces morph to confusion, then understanding. My excuse was a good one, and they couldn't say otherwise. I got up now regretting my decision to sit with them, having tea.
“A friend?” Camille said it like it was an unthinkable truth. “Why would he waste money to send two bouquets in one day?”
“Beats me,” I murmured, glad they had bought the lie.
“Soren? A friend? I don't think I have ever heard of a friend like that before.”
“You haven’t because he is a new friend,” I said with a sigh and nodded. “There is no new man, and I won’t be going back to Evan. Is that clear?” I asked as I pushed myself out of the room.
When I finally plopped down on my bed, I was glad that they hadn't followed me to clarify anything more. Sopren was a friend, and he was going to remain that way to them. No matter how much I wanted to kiss him and be with him, there was no way it could ever happen; we were worlds apart.
My phone began to ring and I stared at it. Soren – why was he calling this late?
“Is there something I can do for you, sir?” I spoke first, even though I knew that wasn't going to stop him; it at least gave me a false sense of control.
“It’s past working hours, and it’s Soren,” he said as if he was exhausted of having to remind me so often. “You know that,” he added, the last part so tenderly I felt it.
“You should not be…”
“Did you get the flowers?” He cut me off.
“I did, and it was an unnecessary thing you did. My family was trying to figure out who sent it to me.”
“Then you can just introduce us; I would like to meet them.”
“You can’t.” I shook my head.
“Why not? You’ve met my entire family.”
“That is because I work for you.”
“Lioraé, even if you didn’t, I would make sure you meet them. I want them all to meet the woman who matters the most to me in the world.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that.” I murmured and then shook my head. “Things you don't mean”
“Things I don’t mean? “I mean every word I say.” His voice dropped, and my stomach rumbled. He wasn't saying anything sexy, yet my heart tugged, making me want to hear more of it.
“Please do not send me any more roses; I don’t appreciate them.”
“Do you not like roses?” He gasped, and I heard a low humming sound. I should have asked first before I went ahead to buy those flowers. Do you not like roses?
“I do not,” I lied.
“Then what do you like?”
“Chocolate Cosmos” – I knew how extremely rare the flower was. Even with his wealth, how could he ever get any of them?
“Good,” he exclaimed, like he had just hit the jackpot. “I will send something you like next time.”
“Is that all, sir?”
Why? Are you sleepy?”
“Yes, sir,” he sighed and smiled. I was going to wear him out and get him out of the infatuation he was mistaking for love. “I want to sleep so I can be early to work tomorrow.”
“I will let you off the hook since I messed up the flowers, but tomorrow it won’t be the same,” he said, and I hated how hearing that made me jiggle with joy. “Good night, my love.”
The words hitched my throat; being called 'my love' by him gave a different kind of feeling. Why did I like it?
“Good night, Mr Vale.”
- Writer
