In the middle of the ocean

Chapter 10: Room 102

"Best we rest till evening and meet again back at the boat, what do you say?" proposes Mark and looks at everyone, even me, but I don't return it. I only nod. Sofia and George agree as well and we all say goodbye with a hug, walking each our way.

Mark and I stop in front of hotel Lukanc, based 2 km away from Lake Bled. We walk towards the reception, where a young and pretty woman, dressed in a light blue uniform, greets us. 

"Welcome. How can I help you?"

"We'd like to book two rooms for two days," Mark answers her kindly and smiles.

The young woman blushes, earning a low sigh from me. She starts typing something on her computer, then grimaces a little and looks back at us. 

"Sadly, we only have one room left.." she starts, slowly. 

"We'll take it," Mark says indifferently and gives her his credit card. I finally look at him, shocked. Has he gone crazy?

"Okay. Your room number is 102," the woman tells Mark and gives him the keys. "If you need anything, just call on number 5. Someone at the reception will immediately answer."

Mark thanks her and we make our way towards the staircase to the first floor. I slowly follow him. No one says a word and after a few minutes, we arrive at the number 102. He unlocks the door and we step in, seeing a simple yet beautiful room, with gorgeous decorations and perfectly positioned furniture. 

"Wow," I gasp and set my bag on the floor. I assume Mark is also amazed, as I hear a small agreement from him. I close the door behind me and head into the kitchen, that has all the important household appliances and even a few bottles of wine and cocktails in the fridge. 

"You can go shower first. I'll make us something to eat."

I nod and grab fresh clothes out of my bag. Locking the bathroom door behind me, I finally start breathing deeply. I'll be dead soon if this continues. 

I quickly strip off my clothes and step under a slightly cold shower, so my thoughts clear up. After I finish, I wrap myself in a soft, warm towel. I nice aroma drifts into the bathroom, smelling of freshly toasted bread and cream cheese with vegetables. I get dressed in a second, already feeling my stomach protesting. All cleaned up, I step into the kitchen and sit at the table, dinner already in front of me. Mark smiles when he sees me and sits opposite me. 

"I hope you like it. I didn't have lots of ingredients so I could only make us this."

I shake my head. "No, just the fact you made something is enough."

"You're finally talking to me," he sighs with relief. "I thought you'll be like that the whole trip."

I start to feel guilty. This did happen all because of me. I'm always the one who ruins everything.

"Don't," he quickly says, placing his hand on mine. I twitch at his touch, causing him to remove his hand.

"Sorry," he whispers. "I just don't want you to feel responsible for all of this. It's not your fault. I'm the one who ruined everything."

I look up into his eyes.

"I'm truly sorry."

My heart burns like it's being pricked by a needle. What is this feeling?

Mark then painfully smiles and points at dinner. "Please. You can start."

I look at him and then reach for a slice of bread with cream cheese. I bite into the soft texture which is slightly crusty. Different flavors dance inside my mouth, combining into a whole, amazing new world.  I sigh, content and take another bite. When I finish the whole slice, I turn towards Mark and smile. "It's delicious."

Mark roughly catches his breath at my smile and closes his eyes, relieved. "I'm glad you like it."

We both eat our dinner in a relaxed atmosphere and I lie down on the bed with my stomach completely full. 

Maybe I could ease on him a little? At dinner was the first time I truly relaxed around him. And those cream cheese bread slices... I have to find out the recipe.

I raise my head slightly. "Mark?" I call out to him and he looks around at me, leaned back on a chair.

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell me, how you made those loaves of bread?"

He opens his mouth, surprised and I curl into a ball, embarrassed. 

"Of course," he replies, happy and starts to explain about the basic things and the secret in his cream cheese. Although his recipe is really interesting, his voice slowly drifts me into sleep.

A memory shows up again. This time, I'm surrounded by my classmates and other students, with one of my legs high up, gripped tightly by a boys hand, and barely keeping my balance. I desperately search for help from my classmates and take hold of one. But she shakes my hand away, causing me to fall badly on my right hip and hand, my wrist stinging sharply. The boy and others start laughing and I barely contain my tears. Suddenly I hear a loud and angry voice boom around the wardrobe. 

"Stop! Have you lost your mind?!"