Simula (Completed)

Chapter 51

NICHOLAS

What have I done?

I should have explained it to her that she was the girlfriend I was talking about but instead I delved on her privacy or whatever shenanigans she was doing.

This idiotic temper of mine!

I touched my sore cheek that left an imprint of her hand.

I left Ate Julia's access card with the concierge who was looking at me and probably contemplating to ask if I need an ice pack or something.

I might have looked that pitiful.

I flagged down a cab and barely got home in one piece.

I was hurting inside and yet I was mad. I was in mixed emotions.

I was so pissed that I felt like a zombie as I walked in the dark interior of my house.

I did not even bother turning on the lights.

How could a happy day turn into something as disastrous as this?

I walked to my studio and flipped on the switch.

My assistants have probably delivered the new paints and materials I requested yesterday since different tins of them sat on my floor.

I looked at my studio. The lone chair with my small desk and the canvas on my easel described my heart...empty and bare. Everything felt lonely.

I felt alone in the world hence reminding me of how much I miss her already.

Before I knew it, I was painting on the walls.

I painted my memories with her since our childhood days, the first day I met her, until the last day she slapped me on the face.

(Next Day)

"Figlio, wake up." Manang Rosa was again nudging me.

"You're making a habit out of this. You can't keep on sleeping on the floor, hijo." She said softly.

I slumped back and covered my eyes from the bright sun shining from my skylight dome.

"Five more minutes." I groaned as I plead for more sleep.

"If you want to get more sleep, you have to do it on your own bed. You're going to get sick." She said using her motherly tone.

I cannot resist that.

So I automatically picked myself up and started dragging myself towards the stairs when she suddenly stopped me by saying, "You really love her, huh."

"Hmm..." I snapped.

Something told me that I should run back into the studio, so I did.

And then I saw it.

I rubbed the sleep off my eyes and saw the work I have done all night.

Murals of our memories were painted on my studio walls.

I slapped my face softly to see if I'm still sleeping but these paintings were not part of my dream.

I then felt the dried paint on my cheek and my hands and understood what I've done.

I have let my subconscious thoughts take over and created a masterpiece in the process.

I swallowed the lump that had been forming in my throat as I felt my eyes welled up.

Before I knew it, a tear dropped out rebelliously as it rolled down the cheek that still sting from her hand mark.

Manang Rosa saw my breakdown as I dropped my knees on the floor and bawled.