LUGIA:Thread of love

Chapter one-Heartbreak anniversary

Expensive restaurants are not really my thing. But the classical music in the background, the laughter of the other customers, the soft lighting, and delicate roses scattered on the table and vinyl flowers on the walls; it's all very romantic for a Friday afternoon. Even the waiters look charming and happy to be here. Maybe I do like expensive restuarants.
      We're sitting at the far end in a cosy spot, but John's eyebrows is still slashing upward and his forehead scrunching like he's in deep thought.
 Aww, hectic work got my poor baby all stressed.
I reach for his hand, offering him compassion, but he moves his hand away, unconsciously swirling his glass.
'How is work?' I purr sweetly. While the fashion company I worked for as a secretary had gone out of business,   John is still working as a photographer for different modelling agencies and companies.
  'Uhmm... really stressful, what about the job search?.'He sighs.
  I have been working as a waitress in a coffee shop to make ends meet, at the same time sending out a resume, but the results are all the same, "we regret to inform you".
In an attempt not to ruin the serene mood, I smoothly lie. 'I'm having an interview in a week's time.'
  Strands of blond hair sprawl across his face, accenting his chiselled cheek that pop in and out in a sync manner. Still stressed out by work, he looks more handsome. 
  Looks were not the thing that attracted me to John when we first met.
    We first met at a fashion street event organised by my college. I was the event coordinator; he was the photographer. The fire in his eye as he did his job amazed me, and I developed a little crush on him.
    The second time we met was purely coincidental, in a coffee shop where he offered to buy me a drink, and I couldn't say no to a kind gesture. After that incident we just clicked. We both have deep passions, his for photography, which accented mine, for fashion design.
      Sitting across from him now, I lean back as the waiter brought our crispy garden salad, and steak in a grand style. Time moves slowly: laughing and reminiscing with John make life on hold. As he attempt to take a sip, he clumsily spills the drink all over himself resulting in a very big blotch on his outfit. This makes me recall a very hilarious incident.
'Do you remember our last Christmas together?' I ask, starting to laugh.
     John and I have been dating for about four years. Last two years, he had come home with me for the holiday break, and before meeting my family, I had taken him upstairs to drop all our bags. We headed back downstairs to where everyone, including my grandparents, uncle, aunt and cousins, were waiting in the entryway to greet us. I started the introductions just as I noticed our   family dog staring at John, her ear pushed forward and barking furiously at him.
      We couldn't stop her because she lunged at him immediately. Terrified,  he ran outside, fell into a muddy water, getting soiled and bruised. We all cracked up—well, except him. It took him a lot of hours and showers to laugh it off.
    That evening, my Mexican aunt decided to cook to impress and made her 'favourite' pecan dish. He was not used to our family traditions,especially my aunt's overspicy— ludicrous way of cooking. He spent the rest of the evening throwing up and being sick.
  'Yes, it was disastrous,' he says, smiling. But then his smiles fall into a serious face.
He's getting serious; we are at a fancy restaurant.
Lately he has been really secretive and nervous, and taking me to an expensive restaurant can only mean one thing.
   Engagement?
    Is this the part where he's going to  bend on one knee?
  Suspiciously, I ate slowly, not wanting to scratch any ring hidden on my plate. He's the one who took me out for a romantic date.     Something he has never done before.
   'I need to tell you something,' John whispers.
   Is it happening? It's — happening! He's going to propose. Do I need to close my eyes? No. Play it cool.
   'Yola, I'm expecting a baby.' His baritone voice brought me out from the thought racing like a marathon through my mind. His facial expression definitely did not my expression.
  My smile, so wide like a Cheshire cat that it hurt my jaw, turned into a frown. 'What do you mean?', I croak out loudly.
  He take a deep breath and said out more loudly. I'm having a child, Yolanda.'
   The cutlery in my fingers slip down. clanging loudly as my hands are shaking furiously.
  My mind, in a jumble of mess, is only able to spur out incoherent words. 'I—I —-ho—w did it happened.  'Did you adopt a child '—my eyes bulge out —alone?'
  Something I love about John is his love for children, but I didn't expect him to make that decision alone!
He sigh again like he is frustrated to have this conversation with me and expect the conversation to go smoothly. 'No yola; I am having a baby, a baby —with another woman.'
  A ba-b-y, he's having a bab-y with another wo-man!!
  He reach for my hand but I flinch. Then he continue, 'I swear, I didn't mean, I didn't mean to hurt you, I just— '
I hurl the first word I can string from my mouth, as I cut him off '—when did it begin.'
  When did he start losing feelings,   when did he begin his infidelity?
'we bo—hiccups spilled from my mouth, and my vision began to blurs.
  His face appear cold and unyielding, a mix of sadness and empathy. 'Few weeks after our first anniversary', he murmur, cupping his chin.
   A muscle in my jaw tick and a sharp burn sting in my throat from me holding my breath.
  That was forty two months ago—my eyes widen and I sharply suck in a breath as something carve in my chest. Our first anniversary was six months before we made it official. Three and a half years of our time together, he has been cheating on me.
    Frantically, I looked around for someone with an hidden camera waiting to just pop up before he gets on his knees, but his stiff face tells me neither is happening.
     Pools of tears blinds my vision as I just want a reason for him hurting me. I had loved him with all of my heart, I still do. Everyone has a reason for their actions. But his eye stare at every object on the table, refusing to look at me in the eyes.
   He slump down in his seat as he talk, 'I did not want weigh you down with my stupid emotions, felt invisible when you were so caught up in your world, so I just got drunk and it just —happened and happened.'
  My breathing turn erratically the more as I try to control the tears about to gush out ,'We could-we could have talked about your emotions, even still I —, I gulp. I would be there for you.Why? Why? didn't you say it out loud? Or .. you don't trust me with your emotions?' My voice crack as I speak up.
   He ignore my question as he continue. 'I loved you, I swear I still love you, but you were just going through a lot when you were in college. I thought I could handle everything on my own.'
  I stare at him like a fool, my heart in my throat.
   I try to rack my brain of him being down but he's always happy and cheerful. My John is always cheerful, even doing his job.
   'If it was a drunken mistake, you could still have said something, not now; not Three years after John, not three and a fucking half years.' I raised my voice a little.
  He angle his head to the side and slide his fingers across his long blond hair. 'I have been dreading to tell you, wanting to confess, but I just—did not just want to hurt you.'
   'But keeping that awful secret is not going to upset me, not going to hurt —my emotions?'
  He arch his bushy eyebrows together as he sighs, 'I know, I am really sorry, it was just..... I regretted the mistake, but I really love and truly care about you.please forgive me just this once....'
   Horror and dread twist in me and the cruel revelation is like a fist to my stomach.
  He keeps on with the word love, but does he truly love me? My feelings for him, or are they reciprocated back?                His emotions behind the word love seems blank and my shrill voice dissolves into a pathetic quiver that spring up a round of hot tears in my eyes.
He doesn't even love me, or have I been forcing things between us?
  Dryness coat the inside of my mouth and my throat squeezes itself.'  it's over, John. I am done with you, with us, with our relationship.'
  His gaze focus on me, astonish by my words like he did not expect me to utter that statement. 'I will fix everything, I promise, everything will be fine between us again. No more secrets between us. Just, please —don't leave me', He utter with a strained voice.
  I hate to show him how deeply this affected me. I could have been one of those who yell and make a scene when faced with a decision of break-up, but reality hit harder than that.                   Instead silence falls between us, making things worse for me. We cannot be fixed, the trust in our relationship is broken, and I will not be a second option.
I can not hold in the tears about to gush again as I snap at him, 'please leave; I don't want to see your face.'
  'Yolanda, please we can work everything out. I don't want things to end between us.'
'Please', I strain out in a high-pitch tone. Reluctantly, he straighten his outfit and left with the mess he had made on the plate.
  Hot tears of shame gushes out as I stare at his retreating figure. I stay in my seat even though it felt like both my heart and eyes were bleeding.

         ***     ***   ***

Broken heart is what I am feeling right now. 
  Sleep always gave me the comfort I desperately craved, but not anymore. Every part of me hurts right now. It is not just a heaviness in my limbs but an empty, heavy sensation in my chest and head.
  That particular night, I not only got my heart shattered but my bank account was....too. Before I left the restaurant, I was a puddle of messy emotions. The waiter, who I thought was charming and full of vibes, came with a backlog of bills.
  Every smile, laughter, kiss, and conversation we shared began to flash through my mind, and the more I ponder about it, the more achingly dull I felt.
My pen stroke a line on my pad, and one line turn to another, and soon my pen scribble faster.
  I come to a halt and then realise what I am doing again.
A caramel eyes stare back at me.
   I am drawing him again.
Out of annoyance, I shred it into pieces again. There was shred paper all over my couch.
I flop down on my couch out of frustration.
  Staring at the ceiling, I realise my phone is beeping again. For the past several hours, my phone has been pinging notification after notification, different calls and messages, especially from my mother and best friend. My phone chimes and I angrily switch it off.
    Then, my doorbell began to buzz, and as persistent  as the individual was, I will like to be left alone.
Maybe if I just sit still, and not open the door, the person will leave?
Then I heard the faint unlocking of the door and only two people, well, one-had the spare key to my apartment.
   My best friend!
    Her shrieking voice came after, 'Yolanda Willow. Where the hell heck have you been?, don't you-'.
Her statement stuck in her throat as her eyes roam around my apartment; studying the broken frame still hanging lifelessly on the wall, shattered glasses, heap pile of crumpled pieces of paper, couch pillow reduced to fluff, pencil broken into half, dark stain of wine on the couch and wall. Her gaze dropp to my appearance. I do not want to imagine what I looks like.
  'Oh baby', her voice purr. The crunching of glass beneath her heels and her toned long legs reach where I am situated within seconds, and I am engulf into the biggest warmest hug.
    One thing about best friends is they just know the right time to be there without asking questions. I mean she will just get the answers she wants out of me later.
   My shoulder heaves p and down and I  shed tears uncontrollably.
'Amber-I--
  'Shhh it's okay'. Her tan manicure hands pat me and it turns into a soft rub in a soothing and circular manner.
   A long time has pass since I had been like this. A familial shiver ran across my shoulder and down my spine then release as a cough like sob from the back of my throat. I sound like I choke, which is exactly how I felt.
  As if life has been clog out of me
Like — like my heart is dying.
   Time passes slowly away. Then, the most stupid word I have utter came tumbling out of my mouth.
'You hate hugs.'
   Her big wide brown eyes full of sympathy, yet a flicker of twinkle amusement flashed around them and look at me. 'There are rooms for exceptions'. The concerns in her voice was etched over her face. 'Do you want to talk about it?'
  I wince from the sympathy and sniff.
  'He is —having a baby with another woman, and --and —he-he's been cheating on me for about three and half years.'
   Her eyes screw shut as she grind her teeth together, then a sigh hit my hear 'just to remind you, it was not your fault that piece of shit ruined his last shimmer of hope of being with you —' and she sighs again. —Yolanda, it is obvious that he does not deserve you, him cheating on you, while leading you on is what is more fucked up. As long as you are enough for yourself, that its. Her eyes roams my whole body 'you definitely need to relieve yourself of the ongoing pain all over your body.'
  A silent gasp came out of my mouth and her entire posture stiff as she realise she said that out loud.
   She, being well Amber, had her giant shit eating grin stretching her mouth from ear to ear.
  'Well, there is no way I am allowing you to spend the rest of the evening brooding over him. 'Her brown eyes flashes and her lips part into a full smile again 'let's go to a club'.
  I have no response and I just slouch on the couch and stare.
'But let us first get you all cleaned up.'Her finger wags up and down on my face.

And for once I hope she is right.

Our heel click on the worn line as we walked across the Club parking lot.
   The warm Salford wind hit my bare arms. The sun set and the dark night hovered around us.
The only lighting on the street was the street lighting and the opening signs of the bar.
Here nothing goes!

   Authors note
   He-he,
   Happy Valentine's Day 🌹
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   Nune🌟⭐