Wildly Driven

Chapter 65

I was living dead. 

I did all my chores promptly, making sure that I excelled in all of them. It was the only way to strive away from the things to which my mind constantly wandered to. I had reduced my talks to only a few nods and single syllable words. Though I was sure they saw something different in me, no one pointed out to me.

Seconds were turning into hours and hours into days. Days turned into weeks. Yet I hadn't found my solace. I had attended tests and midterm exams, acing each one of them. Even that part surprised me. But then again, I had studied most of the time to keep my mind occupied.

Ever since Clark had proposed Monica, she was in cloud nine, always in a dreamy mode. I had laughed and teased her. I guessed Mira had secretly told Clark to marry her faster than he had intended to for the fear that she might change her mind again and Clark was more than happy to oblige her request.

Thankfully the wedding date was set after my ultimatum date and I swear I had released the breath I was holding. With only three more months in their hand, Mira had become hyperactive. She wanted to make sure that everything was going fine.

As per Mira's instructions, they had already started off with the shopping, giving reasons like not to stress the bride at the last minute. Mira aimed at perfection and Monica was happy to nod her head at her. That left me alone in the café.

It had become a one woman show. I had to do the cleaning, baking, brewing, waiting tables and maintain the records. As Monica and Mira left everything on my shoulders, I took them happily. I went to café early and left there early. It personally helped me to stay away from the racer boys, both Robert and Dad.

Mira often asked me about Robert with whom she wanted to meet and apologize for ruining the night. That often left me tongue tied and I didn't know for how long I needed to lie to her on her face telling that he had come when she wasn't around the shop.

At home, I didn't utter a word about our small meeting with Ashley that day to Dad. He seemed pretty happy with the flowers to spoil his day. He never once brought the subject on his own. Considering how we didn't talk about Mom from the beginning, it gave him a plus point to not tackle the subject.

Sometimes, as I sat on the dining table wondering about the what ifs, I had almost him asked if he had murdered my mother. But the fear of losing him was more torturous than knowing the truth. I had slid the matter away from me for as long as I could.

I had pulled Ashley's name once in a while, but it seemed as if he was certain that I would deal with it and he didn't have to worry. He often pretended to forget Ashley's name when I got it in front of him. That fact alone infuriated me. When he forgot Ashley's name on the third day too, I had given up.

I clamped my mouth shut after that, limiting to only ask him if he had his medicines and food. Our conversations had died after that. I felt betrayed and trapped with no way out. 

Dad was acting strange after each passing day and I wondered if it had anything to do with my meeting with Ashley. I often took him to the hospital and I only hoped that he was talking with the therapist if he couldn't talk to me.

And Robert? Well, he wanted to talk with me and ask me how I was doing. With everything that was happening, I didn't have the energy to make him understand that he had to believe in himself before he could come talk to me. 

Our talks were limited only during the races in which he still was my earpiece. He asked me to do some stunts in the fields and I did. That was all it was there to it.

But I missed him and I had tons to talk with him. I wanted us to go back to normal and laugh like old times. But each time I tried to get back, his words resonated in me and I stumbled back, not wanting to hurt myself again in his harsh blows. I didn't want to be his punching bag.