Jaxon.
What would you do if you saw a ghost? You'd be running towards the other way, scared for your life and you wish you'd never looked back, right? It isn't supposed to be the other way around. When you've seen a ghost, you weren't supposed to be fueled by anger, you weren't supposed to march at it and punch it with a bunch of prayers. Hell, you wouldn't even want to look back at it. But this one particular ghost here, is different. I feel like I want to rip out its skin, I want to tear it apart like I know it would tear her heart to pieces if she ever saw this in the light of day.
I could only dream of that to happen.
I tried to stay present with Curran for a good Thirty minutes until I told him to let's call it a night, we still have work to do tomorrow until the main event. Apparently, throwing such party this big, takes almost three to four days. And I couldn't help but wonder how massive this party could be.
This time, even coming over Alex's store wouldn't help the anger within me. The guy wouldn't understand how hard it feels to hold yourself from doing something that you might regret in the morning. I sat at my desk with mix emotions running through me. My hands went out on their own to grab my notebook from my bag along with retrieving my pencil. I tried to draw my emotions out by creating all kinds of strokes, just trying to pour my mind out. But, apparently the flames inside me felt like it was out of control, this time is the third time my pencil broke in my right grip. I exhaled out loud, throwing everything away. It annoys me how I couldn't speak of this to anyone. I wished I hadn't left my phone on top of that chair, I wished I just turned my back and quickly stroll inside, instead of being curious of the noises that were clearing the sound of sex.
I wished, what seemed to be, an obsession towards Missus Anderson stayed as mere obsession of wanting to touch her, to hold her—not into wanting to protect her, to care for her, to... Love her.
The sudden chime of a notification sliced through the haze of my thoughts, jolting me back to reality. I had been so deeply immersed in my head the outside world seemed to fade away. My hand quickly snatched my phone to find a text, from Missus Anderson.
Will you be able to accompany me for a full day tomorrow, Jaxon?
I swallowed the lump in my throat, my heart flutters just by reading her text. Missus Anderson wants me to accompany her tomorrow. Where could we possibly go? And most importantly, what could she be possibly need from me? I shrug off the questions in my head before my thumb punches on the keyboard.
Of course, Ma'am.
What time should I be present?
9:00 AM.
Wear something casual.
Goodnight.
"What do you mean you won't be coming in early today?" My dad's inquiry bore a tone that laced with suspicion, or maybe it was just a trick my mind played on me, fueling the paranoia of my own obsessions. In that moment, it felt as if my unspoken desires and fears had been laid bare before him, as if he could somehow know about my obsession towards Missus Anderson. His question lingered as he waits for my answer, his hand clutching onto his favorite mug, filled with the dark liquid of caffeine, raising the mug to his lips before taking a sip.
"Missus Anderson personally asked me, to be her chauffeur?" The answer to his question came out more like a question that I, myself, was confused too. Because honestly, I still don't understand what would my presence be of use to her.
"Alright, if Missus Anderson personally asked you then I won't mind." Dad responded, delivering a casual acceptance, while straightening the papers of his newspaper in front of him.
It's official, my mind was playing tricks on me. I felt so stupid for thinking that my founding attraction to her might be exposed, where my dad knows all about it. I overthink that maybe at some point, my dad stumbled into my room and take his time to admire the cluttered papers on my desk, and the glued ones against the wall, showcasing my drawing of emotions. And lots of a very particular grown woman with her hair up in a neat bun, and a messy one. But then again, my dad never paid any attention towards my hobbies. He knew that his son very much so, loves art, but he didn't bother to think big about it. And for some reason, I wish he knew how much it meant to me. I kind of understand why he chose his eyes wide shut; he's seen it before. A boy who is so passionately loves his hobbies, he wants to make a living out of it, only to realize the reality wasn't unicorns and rainbows—only the rich people could make out a living out of their hobbies. Not people like us. Hence why, he urged me to take Business as my major when I attended university back then.
I parked my car in front of the garage before shutting the ignition off. When Missus Anderson told me to wear casual clothes, I'm assuming it wasn't my usual clothes when I'm working, which either it's a tank tee, and shorts, or just shorts when the day is hot as hell. I had to rummage through my wardrobe to find other than shorts and tank tees and I finally settle with a long black cargo pants, a grey t-shirt, and my one and only leather jacket. It's very bland and casual, I'm a dude.
As I shut the door to my truck, I noticed Missus Anderson's car being pulled out from the other garage. I watch as it made its way circling towards the grand front porch stairs, the familiar brunette hair and wide shoulders stepped out from the driver's seat, his strong jaw making a visual, and it was none other than Dale Adler. Does he know Missus Anderson is running her errands with me?
When I make an appearance to his visual, I noticed the way his jaw slightly flexed as he shut the door close. "Aren't you supposed to be in the back, helping others?" Dale muttered, that's the first time ever since forever, I heard his voice again.
"Not today, apparently." I confidently replied, with a hint of pride laced in my tone. I hope I come off with a declaration that today, my role was different. Dale's gaze showcases an unspoken challenge with my confident reply.
"Didn't I told you to stop, Jaxon?"
"You didn't exactly make it clear why I should." The sudden confidence in me keeps thriving, as I fought back his question. That's right, why should I stop, Dale? Tell me what the fuck?
Dale lets out a frustrated sigh, his mouth forming a thin line, a clear indicator of his discontent. As he was about to open his mouth, we both startled to that angelic voice breaking the tension filled air. "Everything alright here, boys?" Missus Anderson spoke with a hint of curiosity.
Dale cleared his throat, "Yes, Ma'am. I was just telling Jaxon here, to stop being a good help like he is." Finish off with an awkward chuckle and a light pat on my shoulder, he sold it out to Missus Anderson while I just stood there, with my arms crossed and my pursed lips.
Missus Anderson stares at him, her lips curled into a faint smile that if you blink, you won't catch another. Her eyes then move towards mine before Dale maneuvered his way around to reach the passenger's seat door and helped her climb in. I exchanged one final stare with Dale, before I opened the driver's seat door and joined Missus Anderson in the car.
"First stop, is to Bernie's." Missus Anderson declared while putting on her seatbelt.
I couldn't help but smile, remembering the fact that Uncle Bernie's café was our first encounter. From that day, I've always known her as the beautiful woman who bumped into me and spilled coffee all over me as she also couldn't stop apologizing and even offered to buy me a new one. The woman I am sitting with right now presented a striking contrast to that woman in the coffee shop. This woman radiates full authority, bold, and minimal conversation woman. I don't know for sure which one of them made me melt into the floor, the sweet and innocent one, or the fierce and bold one.
"And after Bernie's, drive to this address. I have a meeting with Harry this noon." Missus Anderson added, her delicate fingertips tapping against the digital screen of the car to 'plan a drive'.
Once we've arrived at Bernie's, Missus Anderson ordered two coffees, a pancake for her, and a sandwich for me when she asks what I'd like to get. I felt uncle Bernie's gaze fixed upon me, a playful smirk displayed on his face. I folded my lips to suppress a grin from coming out of my face and rolled my eyes. I know what he must be thinking, maybe at some point I've finally caught the running woman out of his coffee shop months ago and successfully pursue her to go on a date with me. When in reality, I'm actually working for her. Though, I wish the scenario was like what he imagined.
We sat in silence as we devour our meal. Missus Anderson on the other hand, is multitasking between eating her pancake, and navigating through her iPad. While I, on the other hand, couldn't help but fixated my gaze on her. I hope I'm not being too obvious; I mean, I did try to play with my phone once in a while, but I'm a pretty fast eater. So, once I'm done, I tried to keep my gaze away from her.
"I heard you've finished building the Gazebo, Jaxon." I sat up straight, once I hear her voice breaking off the silent atmosphere around us.
"Yes, Ma'am. Have you seen it?"
"I tried not to," She chuckles. "I'm sure it's beautiful." Her eyes moving up towards mine, I caught a glimpse of such glint on her brown eyes. The corner of her lips tugged into a faint smile, as mine mirrored hers.
"Will you still be around the house? Helping your dad?" She asks.
"Of course, Ma'am. We still got lots to do." I answered, raising my cup of coffee to meet my lips as I take a sip, emptying the content of the plastic cup.
"I am honestly, very impressed with what you can do, Jaxon. It would be a shame if that talent of yours never seen the light of day, aside from my backyard."
I chuckled, "What do you mean, Ma'am?"
"Maybe I could introduce you to someone, have you connect with people who is making billions in that department of yours, which is crafting... Or building. If that's what you love the most."
"Oh," Taken off guard. "That'd be very awesome, Ma'am. But, I'm just a small crafter. I don't think I could see myself making money out of that."
"Why is that?"
"I'm not very passionate, in that department."
"Then, in which department are you very passionate in?"
My lips quirked in a faint smile. My mind flashing images of the drawings, and sketches that I've made in my room. It was all very rough sketches, it wouldn't make sense, but it did to me. She possessed such a round face, and yet if you're looking at a certain angle, you could see her subtle yet pointy jaw on her side. Catching her smile, is like catching a prize. She rarely smiles in her own house, hence why when I'd gotten the opportunity to catch a glimpse of it, my hands went searching for my notebook and immediately transfers the image from my head to the blank page.
I shrugged my shoulders before responding, "I like art, Ma'am. And really, I couldn't thank you enough for introducing me to Mister Styles. It was like a dream for me, I loved his collections and I hope that someday, he would put my piece along his." A genuine beamed accompanied my words, reflecting the excitement and gratitude that lingered in my tone.
Missus Anderson must've found the whole situation here amusing as she chuckles and nodded her head, "Harry does have better collections than mine." She admitted. The shared appreciation for art created a bridge between us, a connection that I never thought we would have. Missus Anderson taps the screen of her iPad, her eyes widened a little before she started to tidy up her things.
"Let's go, we don't want to be late."
----------
Missus Anderson instructed me to wait in the lounge room while she goes into the meeting with Harry. Once she goes in, I started to take a look around the surrounding, we're at the highest floor. It has a floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the beautiful city, there are four single sofa chairs facing at each other but separated with the small glass coffee table. On the other side of the room, there lies—what I believe—some of Harry's art collection. I admire the one on the centre, it's an abstract painting. The artist creates the mixture of a color black and red. A bold streak of gold color, painted across the adjoining color. My eyes are picking up a woman's silhouette in the painting, she's got long hair that seemed to be falling down to her back. Her head was drawn as thrown back as if it's to be looking up towards the red color.
"I always come here and just brood to this painting for hours." My shoulders tensed up slightly, hearing a rather delicate voice that belongs to someone—breaking me out of my trance of watching this painting. She has a long dark hair, that stops at her waist, she's got a round face and a skin so porcelain that you might think she's just come out of her Barbie box. This was the girl that greeted Missus Anderson at the front of the Styles's mansion.
"I think it's beautiful." I stated back, my hands shoved to my pocket.
"I know. I'm Dominique, by the way." Dominique, introduces herself.
"Jaxon."
"Emilia's errand boy?" My eyebrows furrowed together as a show of bewilderment.
"Emilia?"
"Oh right, Missus Anderson." A rather sarcastic tone laced when she rephrased her sentence.
"Oh, yeah. I am. I'm more of her gardener, actually." My head nodding away.
"You're the one who drove her that one time to Harry's mansion right?"
"Yeah." I shoot her a smile. Dominique's lips tugged into a small smirk, though mine slowly disappears. I guess she finds this whole situation rather amusing? Which I don't understand why and I'm keen to find out about it.
"What?" I asked.
"You must be the mystery guy that she never stops talking about." Dominique quietly spoke, the way she stated comes out like a murmur.
"Huh?"
"Tell me," My body fully turns to face her petite one. She's a bit shorter than me, prompting my jaw to tilt downward, my eyes fixated on her brown ones. The sly smirk never left her face, I watched as she slowly steps in, almost closing the gap between us. A heavy lump formed in my throat, suddenly I seem to want to take my jacket off, the palm of my hands became clammy, my eyes looking anywhere but her.
"What is it from you, a gardener boy, that could make such a grown woman so willing to throw away her dignity?"
What does she mean by that? Was this grown woman she's talking about is Missus Anderson? I find it difficult for my brain to process this indirect information from Dominique. I'm not sure whether it's because the goddamn girl so closely stood in front of me, or what she just said about how Missus Anderson has been in a conflict about her own dignity... Towards me? The ambiguity of her words added an unexpected layer of intrigue to the conversation, leaving me grappling with unanswered questions.
Before I could say anything, I heard someone cleared their throat. My whole body snapped around as fast as a snapping turtle to find Missus Anderson, with her right hand on her hips. Her face contorts into one that I couldn't read, though at one second, I thought her eyes were boring into mine. But it seems like it's fixated onto the girl behind me.
"Dominique, Harry wants you."
Dominique left the room without uttering a single word except exchanging glances with Missus Anderson, a hard expression on her face, but a playful one on Dominique's. The hardened expression seemed to soften once Missus Anderson's eyes fixated onto me.
"I need you to pull the car around. There's a book signing event being held at two PM today by one of my writers, I need to be there to observe the crowd." Missus Anderson ordered.
I pursed my lips and gave a nod, "Yes, Ma'am."
----------
"It's okay, you go find an empty spot to park. It's not that far. It's right beside that little bakery, alright, Jaxon? I'll see you inside." And with that Missus Anderson climbs out of the car and make her way around towards the sideways. I huffed out a breath out of my mouth, impatiently drumming my fingers against the steering wheel. The traffic was really bad, and we were also late for Twenty minutes. Missus Anderson was fidgeting throughout the whole car ride, she uncomfortably shifted in her seat even more once we got stuck in the traffic. I picked up a trait of hers just by observing her from the corner of my eye. She's not one to wait.
Three minutes later, I managed to find an empty spot to park. But, it's a bit far from the bookstore—scratch that, it's very far. I think it was like a three-minute walk, I don't know if that counts as far, but I'm sure as hell Missus Anderson would say it is. I think I've circled at least three times, and yes repetitively stuck in traffic, until I found that spot. So, if she wants to blame, blame the city. It's always busy.
I finally arrived in front of the bookstore; from the window it looks very packed full of people attending the book signing. I couldn't catch a glimpse of Missus Anderson from here. I pushed the glass door open, the bell chimes indicating a new visitor has arrived. None of them bothered to turn around to glance towards my direction, too excited to meet the Author I assume. Some seemed to exchange thoughts on the book, some just stood there patiently hugging their cherished copies close to their chest very protectively as if something terrible could happen to it.
It's a pretty small building. There's a second floor that overlooks to the first floor, the second floor seemed to be a small café. I saw Missus Anderson sitting on the chair, she faced the ledge with a calm demeanor. Her watchful eyes were keeping a friendly tab on the activity below, observing silently. If anyone glanced towards her, their first impression might be anything but sweet, loving, and nice. Missus Anderson's resting expression is far from that. Her rounded lips might come off as pursed, when in fact they're not. They sit naturally, and beautifully without sending off any kinds of expression. Her eyes darted left and right, her eyebrows may slightly look like she's in a deep trance observing the crowd. Her demeanor might come off as cold, but I know for a fact she's far than that.
Nobody in this room, I believe not even her staff back in the house, knows about the grown woman—Innocent and sweet gesture when she accidentally bumped against a stranger knocking out her coffee and profusely apologize. I know for a fact, she's nowhere calm and collected like she does in her house. It's like she has to be someone else inside her own sanctuary. There is something about this woman, her energy that only she chose to be vulnerable with. Reminiscing the argument that I've eavesdropped a while ago, the sincerity from her towards Mister Anderson—I am not convinced she's fully herself. She's not happy with him, I know and she knows.
I lingered on each page, my thumb taking its time to flip through the book. Though, my head was nowhere immersed in it, not even one word. My head tilted towards Missus Anderson who is currently talking to a woman who seemed to be in her mid-thirties, with a short black hair. The book signing has finished an hour ago, it is now five-thirty PM. The sky seemed to turn grey, the clouds eager to spill the rain. My foot tapping against the wooden floor in anticipation, it's about to rain soon and I didn't bring an umbrella. Fuck.
Missus Anderson seemed to dismissed herself from the conversation, bidding her goodbyes with the woman and the other woman. Her eyes glance towards mine, giving me a small nod indicating it's time to go. I placed the book back on its shelf before I followed Missus Anderson out of the building.
Missus Anderson look upwards to the sky, noticing the cloudy sky. She sighs, "It's about to rain," She turned towards me, "So, where'd you park, Jaxon?" She asks.
"It's a three-minute walk down the road, Ma'am." I chuckled, nervously scratching my nape. Her pupils dilated, in shock. I wouldn't blame her; she's wearing a nine-inch heels. She's been in that the whole day; her feet must've been dying to rest.
Her shoulders slumped slightly, "Alright, lead the way."
We walked in silence, with her by my side. Her hands constantly punching those keyboards on her phone, absorbed in the digital world. I'd have to gently steer her away from almost crashing on people, and yet her eyes never leaving that damn phone. All of a sudden, a sprinkle of rain showers from above us.
"Oh shit. This way!" I exclaimed, grabbing her arm rather harshly, too determined to shield her quickly from the impending rain. Missus Anderson gasped in surprise as I pulled her close, racing towards the closed down coffee shop to seek refuge from the rain underneath the canopy. We stood on the dry pavement, watching the rain coming down harder than before. Missus Anderson exhaled rather loudly, looking down to her phone. I noticed a chair stacked on top of another chair as I grab one and place it behind her.
"Here you go, Ma'am."
"No thanks, Jaxon." Missus Anderson mumbled, her fingers still punching away on that screen. I grumbled under my breath, quiet enough so she wouldn't notice.
"You've been walking on those heels for a whole day, please. Sit." My tone lingers with demand, that must've caught her attention. She pulled her eyes away from the bright screen of her phone to fix upon min, her lips pursed as if giving herself a thought before she slowly walks backward and sit on the chair.
We're so close to the car, it's only a couple runs away. But, it's very dangerous to run in those heels for her, and to put the cherry on top, it's raining cats and dogs. My eyes fixated on Missus Anderson; I watch her play with her phone peacefully but her knees kept bouncing. Her lips drawn by her teeth slightly, she couldn't wait for the rain to stop. An idea popped in my mind.
My hands went to grab my leather jacket, pulling it off of my body. Missus Anderson noticed when I was pulling the jacket off my left arm. "Aren't you gonna get cold?" She asks.
"I don't think the rain is stopping anytime soon, Ma'am. It's only a couple runs away." I crouched down on my knees to unclasp her heels; she couldn't possibly run in those and I won't let her hurt herself.
"What are you doing?" Missus Anderson panicked, tugging her feet away from me beneath the chair.
"Ma'am, you can't run in these heels. It's too dangerous, allow me, yeah?" I reassured her as Missus Anderson looks hesitated for a moment before cautiously extending her feet toward me. As soon as she was free from those punishing heels, I encouraged her to stand up and put her phone in her bag. Missus Anderson complied, but there was a noticeable hesitation in her movements. I couldn't understand why she would hesitate when it was for her own well-being.
"Can you hold onto this?" I extended my hand that were gripping her heels, she gladly accepts. "Okay, we're gonna run for a bit. It won't be long, I promise you." I assured, my hands on her back gently guiding her towards the rain.
I widened my jacket to create a cover over her head before she stopped me, "Wait! What about you? Won't you be cold, Jaxon?"
"Don't worry about me, Ma'am. Please, just get under the jacket." Her eyebrows pulled together, searching for another validate answer from me when in fact, I was being serious. Before we step out, I reminded her, "We're just gonna jog a little bit, okay? Don't run too fast, it might be slippery." Missus Anderson nodded.
As I count to three, we step out of our comfort zone and jog towards the car. The cold water showering my body down from the grey sky. It almost felt like melting ice running down against my skin. Once we reach the car, I guide Missus Anderson towards the passenger seat before I run towards the driver's side. My plan was to prevent Missus Anderson drench from the cold rain, but she was soaked anyway. From her leg up to her mid-waist. At least she wasn't drenched from the rain like I am, which is okay.
Missus Anderson turns on the heater inside the car before she grabs a box of tissue from the compartment. She harshly tugs out layer after layer before she lightly dabs the tissue against my face. My neck, my arms. I watch her in silent, I might hold my breath a little bit, thinking if I were to blow any out from my nose, it might stop this moment. And I don't want it to stop.
"Okay, that won't do most damage. Let's hurry back to the house so you can clean yourself up."
Right, okay.
Curran inquired about the situation as I entered the kitchen, my clothes clinging uncomfortably to my skin. I detailed the events outside, prompting him to generously offer me his clothes. Following a warm shower, as I prepared to take my leave, Missus Anderson requested my assistance with a problem in her bathroom. The sink was clogged, and the drain needed replacing. Despite the additional mess that ensued during the fix—my clothes were once again dirtied; I couldn't bring myself to mind. After all, I was headed home soon anyway.
"Will that be all, Missus Anderson?"
She snapped her head towards me, the back of her fingers covering her lips, a glass of white wine on her hand. "Hm?"
"I uh... Finished fixing that drain of your bathroom sink. Is there anything, that I could help you with?" I recalled. I noticed the way her eyebrows were pulled together, she looks like she was deep in her thoughts in which I just interrupted.
"Oh, right. I'm sorry, Jaxon. I was in my head. Yes that'll be all, thank you." A small smile is sent with a little nod towards my way.
I pursed my lips, my brain and my heart having a conflict, whether I should tell her that I saw her husband and his mistress 3 days ago fucking at his gazebo in the backyard or when I caught her moan my name in their bedroom where I'm pretty sure she was touching herself so hard I could almost hear the wet sound forming out of her cunt. I couldn't sleep without jerking myself before I drift off.
"Goodnight, Missus Anderson." Decided to call it a night, I bid her a farewell. I was about to gather myself off from her spacious living room which surprisingly very cozy and warm due to the fire being lit in the fireplace. I could feel the comfortable heat engulfing my body just by standing in the hallway.
"Actually, Jaxon... I could use some company, not for long- That is only, if you're not doing anything important back home."
My heart skipped a beat.
"Uhh... I feel dirty, Missus Anderson. I don't want to ruin your couch-" I tried to form an excuse. For one, my attire isn't very comfortable right now and I wish to quickly jump into the shower to wash this dirt away. For two, I don't know if I could hold myself back if I am ever as close to her.
"Nonsense. Sit down, I'll grab you some wine- Wait.. You're legal... Right?" She push herself off from the couch but stopped herself.
I chuckled nervously with a nod, "Yes, Ma'am. I am."
She sighed in relief before she giggles, "Good, thank god. Alright, sit down. I'll be right back."
I sat down and look around the living room. Two medium sized couches facing at each other where in the middle of them sits a coffee table, a big vase of white roses in the other side of the long coffee table. Everything in this room is very well-organized, comfy, and I am one hundred percent sure that these are coming from her touch. I couldn't help but look at the wall in front of me, on top of the console table sits a lot of frames of her and her husband's pictures. I stood up and make my way towards it before grabbing one frame where it shows her big smile looking at her husband, though her husband was looking at other direction but her. Missus Anderson looks very sincerely in love with him. Anyone with a perfectly sighted eyes can notice that how she's willing to give him the world.
I feel bad for her.
For their marriage.
I know it hasn't been that long for me to be around, but everything from their marriage has been happening a lot through my eyes and ears. Months spent on building the gazebo for his wife just to caught him using it with his, I assumed, mistress, before the party.
"That was the day that I gave him his dream watch." I jumped slightly, gripping the frame tighter afraid that it slipped from my grasp. Snapping my head towards her, as she stands there holding two glasses of wine with a pursed lips. I watched her made her way towards the couch as I carefully place their picture back on it's original place.
The corner of her lips tugs into a small smile, She hands me the glass of wine as I thank her before sitting beside her. "He's always wanted to have that watch. It was a limited edition, you wouldn't find it anywhere at the mall. I had to make some calls and expand my network. When I finally got it, it was the perfect moment as his start-up company was going so well and they just scored their big goal." She chuckles, bitterly. I assume there's more to the story.
I look down to the glass of wine on my hand, trying to come up with an answer before she added, "I care a lot about what people think you know, Jaxon." I lift my head up, finding her eyes already set on me. "So, I am aware that... We weren't really, subtle, with our issues." She took a deep breath, before lifting her glass signaling for soft cheers.
I nod my head and my glass at hers before I took a sip of the bittersweet liquid down my throat. My insides couldn't help but smile, if I could watch myself from a third point of view I would've though What a hell of a night, finishing up some tough work then gets rewarded by drinking a glass of one that I'm sure could pay for my car gas for a whole year.
My tongue swatted against my bottom lip to hide the grin that was about to escape due to my own silly comments about myself. There was a silence, that I couldn't tell if it's comfortable or not. But, I do feel comfortable with the silence as I enjoy this glass of wine. I noticed Missus Anderson shifted her position, tucking her legs underneath her thighs.
"I want you to tell me the truth, Jaxon." I look at her, as her eyes looking at other way before moving to mine.
"Do you think... A woman my age, is still pretty enough to.." She chuckles, "get it?" She air quoted.
Fucking hell, yes.
I give myself a moment before I let out my real, honest answer. I wouldn't want her to think that, I'm some kind of creep with such a fast one—Resulting in an obvious way that I have, been watching her and been taking interest in her for a while.
"I think you're the most beautiful woman that I've ever laid my eyes on, Missus Anderson." I commented, Was that subtle enough?
She chuckles before a smile creeps on her face, her cheeks slowly turns to a subtle red color. "Please, Jaxon. Call me by my name, Domenica." She looks down to her glass of wine with a smile, circling the glass making the liquid twirls inside it.
I smiled, "You're beautiful, and so is your name Domenica." I rephrase, this time calling her by her name. My lips felt foreign when they speak of her name, the kind of foreign that I wouldn't mind if it became familiar. Domenica looks at me with the same beautiful smile on her face, my eyes not leaving hers as I took a sip from my glass.
Domenica looks at me for a while with, what seems like, a bewildered smile as if she's not hearing it right. Am I not sincere enough? I was very sincere, and I hope she didn't took it in any weird way. She sighs with a small smile before looking down, "It's going to be our wedding anniversary in 5 days. What do you think I should get him?"
I have no idea why my body feels warm, my heart pounding in my chest, my blood boils. I'm sure it's not because of the warmth produced from the fireplace. I sensed a growing agitation in myself. She's a smart woman, I'm sure she should've figured it out by now that her husband is unfaithful to her, I thought. My whole body wants to take things on its own, my heart wants to let her know the truth but my brain keeps screaming to not do anything stupid, it's their business I shouldn't be involved in any of it.
"He's been telling me how he wanted to join this equestrian club, he wants to learn on how to ride a horse and he wants to have one. Do you think it'll be a great gift?" Domenica starts to brainstorm by herself.
I stayed quiet.
"He's also been saying things like a trip to Bali for a week and just enjoy the atmosphere there, I heard it's a really good atmosphere."
Still, I kept quiet.
Domenica sighs, "I don't really know which one, he told me a lot of things he wanted to have and try." She took a sip of her wine. She looks down at it, and twirl the liquid by circling her glass. A small pout sticking out from the bottom of her lips. She's sad, she thinks she's not a great wife.
"I think whatever it is you wanted to let him have, it'll be enough and thoughtful." I finally speak up.
Domenica chuckles and looks at me, "Well, when you have the money and everything, it won't really be enough."
"I don't think so."
"Oh yeah? Enlighten me then, Jaxon." Domenica seemed intrigued by my statement. My habit of licking my bottom lip took action before I proceed,
"I would've been really grateful to have a wife like you, Domenica." Suddenly, it felt like the air around us seemed to stop. I couldn't hear the sound of the burning woods from the fire in the fireplace, I couldn't even hear the air around me, I could hear the softly sounded choked breath formed out from Domenica. Her lips pulled slightly apart, her eyes stayed locked with mine.
"I wouldn't want to see you in this situation, you're thinking so hard on what to get me for our wedding anniversary. Love, shouldn't be acted in celebration. It should've been everyday, and I think it would've been enough." I took a sip of my wine and gulped down the rest of it.
"I won't put you in this kind of position, I would just have me, doing all of what you're doing right now." I continued, "Because I care for you. My love should be bigger and better, and I would want you to know that you deserve to have me as I do to you." The alcohol is just a nudge.
Domenica lets out a sigh then followed by a small laugh, "Jaxon, that was very sweet."
I frowned. A pang in my chest when I realized she registered my whole statement as a thought of mine, when I intended the opposite. I pursed my lips before I finally let her know,
"But, I mean it." She was about to take a sip from her glass but halted, Domenica turns her head to me, her expression seemed as if she just saw a ghost. I know I should've stopped right there and crack a joke, assuring her that I didn't mean what I said. I was just trying to have fun. But, I'm the type of person that became fully honest when under the influence, and now thanks to the alcohol.
I didn't stop, I resume, "I do care about you, Domenica." I said, "I don't think you should be hard on yourself about what to get him for your wedding anniversary."
"Why?"
"You're a smart woman, You know why." I stood up and walk towards the fireplace.
"No, I don't know Jaxon. Tell me, why?" I turned to look at her to find her copied my actions as she sets down her glass on the coffee table.
"You know why," I mumbled.
"No, tell me why?!" Her voice went up.
"HE'S NOT A GOOD HUSBAND FOR YOU!" I snapped, I noticed she flinched a little.
"He's not a good husband, and he doesn't know how to love you and care for you!" I added as I walk towards her. My voice tremble, "I.. I care for you, Domenica. And I know, you've been having this feeling in your guts about him and I'm here to tell you that's it's true!"
Her eyes aren't set on mine, her eyebrows scrunched together, her lips apart a little. From the way her face draws into a frown, I am assured that she is not confused. Her thoughts were validated from my answer, Her gut was right.
"I'm sorry that you have to find out from your gardener's son, but... I mean it. He doesn't care about you nor does he know how to care for you. But, I do, Domenica."
She then looks at me, a whole different expression is displayed on her face that I couldn't tell what is it she's feeling right now. She took a step closer, almost closing the gap between us before she spoke,
"What makes you think a young boy like you could care for a woman like me?" The tone in her voice seemed challenging, and a bit bitter. My heart dropped. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat before I took a step back looking down to the ground.
Something snapped in me, something that I wish I was aware that I was capable with this potential in me. A sinister chuckle I let out, "Are you seriously..?" She stands on her ground, her eyes still on mine. I took a step forward, a small smirk tugged on my face.
"We all know you danced those fingers inside your virgin cunt to the thought of me because your husband's couldn't even hit it, with your blinds open at 1 in the afternoon while I'm lifting woods to build your little husband's gazebo with my shirt off, my sweaty body, you wish it was against yours." My face gets closer and closer towards her, until our lips almost touched. I let my lips ghost against her, my confidence starting to deteriorate when her eyes looks down to the ground with her eyebrows pulled together. Though, I keep staring at her lips, Oh god, I really wanted to kiss those plump and glossy red lips.
Her eyes looks up from my lips to mine, she inch closer and closer and I felt like this is the moment that she's about to finally close the gap, until she spoke,
"Get out of my house."
----------
AN: Leave a vote, comment and tell me what you think! A little bit spoiler, next chapter would be from Domenica's POV ;)