𝐎𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐲 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Part 9 ~ I Wish She Loved Me

Michael's Point Of View ~

I take in the beautiful breeze of the fresh air as it gently blows onto me. The soft wind blowing my curls that sit on my forehead and around my face in a slow side to side pace. I stand with my hands stuffed into my pockets of my black pants, looking down to my feet. My black loafers shine in the darkness from the fresh coat of polish I gave them earlier in the day. Pristine they are. 

I look up once again . . 

My mind constantly going off into thought. But only one thought, really . . 

The thought of Olivia and her choice of words from the other day. That what we're doing is only casual and friendly. I couldn't just tell her after hearing her say that, telling her how much I love to see her smile, how beautiful she is when she does. I guess my attempt on trying to send her signals just simply isn't working how I thought it would. How I had hoped it would. We had just celebrated our 10 year friendship by going out for dinner that one night. I was going to tell her. I knew that it was perfect in that moment . . then . . Eric came into the picture. Her evidently falling for him. And falling hard. 

I look up at the moon. It's beautiful tonight. The way it glows in the dark and the bright twinkle of the seemingly endless blanket of stars that cover the sky. It's nights like this that I think about Olivia in the most beautiful of ways . . making love to her, saying those three words and hearing her say it back or taking her on a romantic walk along a beach and the feeling of sand in between our toes and our hands holding each others under a gorgeous night sky such as tonight.

I let out a small sigh . . 

The voice of my mother breaking my obvious endless thoughts of the love of my life.

"Michael, baby the coffee and cake is ready . . " She tells me. 

 I look down at my digital watch on my wrist . . the black bold numbers reading 10:30pm. Mother has such a sweet tooth so it may seem that having cake and coffee at this time of night is satisfying. I decided to visit mother tonight. Olivia has gone out on a girls night anyways. I hope she's having a good time. 

"Sugar for my sugar . . " Mother giggles, leaning down to pinch my cheek softly then kiss it multiple times.

I just chuckle, taking the small sugar bowl from her hand. One and two teaspoons, mixing it together with my limited edition silverware spoon from mothers priceless collection. The clanking of it against the inside of the mug as I stir seems to break the silence but not mothers stare. 

"So, where is she tonight? Where's my beautiful Olivia? . . " Mother asks. 

I place the spoon down, bringing the mug to my lips. 

"She's out with some friends, having fun like she deserves . . " Mother just nods. She agrees with my last sentence. She knows what Olivia has been going through, with the whole Eric breakup. I tell mother a lot of things, including my feelings for her. 

" . . and you still haven't told her, have you baby? . . " She asks. 

Mother sighs. "Why not, Michael? . . " Yet another question. 

I go quiet. Putting my mug back down on the table, holding my hands up to her . . some what defeated by her sudden question. 

" . . I'm afraid, mother . . " I say quietly. 

She looks at me with sympathetic eyes. 

"I know it's a hard thing, putting your heart on the line but you have to talk to her about this" . . 

" . . you have felt this way about her for 10 years, baby . . " 

"But it's only casual and friendly, that's what she said to me the other day . . " I say suddenly. 

It goes deathly quiet in the room. The sound of the clock ticking. My eyes not daring to look into mothers, they look at the wall on the left of me. I feel a hand on top of mine. 

"Michael, have you and Olivia been having . . you know? . . " 

Mother continues. But trying not to hurt my feelings. 

" . . I'm not saying that's bad, you are both adults here but you two are . . isn't that making it harder on you, honey? . . " 

I sigh deeply. She's right, mother is right. 

"Yes mother. It is making it harder for me but I want it because . . it's with her, you know? . . " 

My voice whispering as I finish. Mothers hands gently tapping mine. 

" . . I wish she loved me, mother . . " I say, I feel tears coming but I hold them back. 

"She does love you, Michael. But you need to talk to her and find out if she loves you that way . . " 

Cake and coffee with mother is finished. I help her wash up the dishes and kiss her goodbye. Wishing her sweet dreams. I reach home finally. Walking into our place with the only source of light is the lamp on the coffee table. I place my coat upon the hook to hang up, noticing Olivia's shoes and wallet on the couch. Turning the lamp off, I find myself going into Olivia's bedroom, not mine. As I stepped into her room, she barely stirred. Flinching only slightly as I gently brushed my fingers over the soft skin on her cheek. She's just absolutely stunning. Unbuttoning my shirt and finding myself climbing in, inching myself closer and closer to wrap my arm around her. 

" . . Michael? . . " She questions in a sweet, but very sleepy tone. 

"Yeah, Liv . . it's okay, it's me . . " I whisper softly to her. 

She doesn't, say anything else. I feel her hand upon my arm that's around her, her fingertips ticking my skin there until suddenly . . it stops. She has fallen back asleep one again. I place a single kiss on the back of her neck, moving her hair gently aside to inhale her gorgeous scent of her skin before planting another one, two . . three more soft kisses on the back of her neck. 

What this girl means to me. . 

I really love her but . . I wish she loved me. 

to be continued.