Today I saw a naked woman.
That doesn't happen often unless the woman is me and I'm in front of my bathroom mirror.
But today, I saw a naked woman and she didn't even mind. Instead, she acknowledged me with a wave and a welcoming smile on her plump lips before grabbing a robe, putting her arms through the holes, and giving Leonel a kiss on the cheek. They obviously just fucked and I felt like I was disturbing their privacy.
And Leonel, well, he just stood half-naked in front of me with bed hair and a glass of rum in his hand. It's eight in the morning.
"Heard you graduated," he smirked and raised his glass, "Congrats, Rosaleen."
"Did I come at a bad time? because..." my voice trailed off and I pointed at the woman who lounged on the couch and acted as if we're not in the same room.
"Oh, this is Jade," Leonel gestured weakly at the girl who mouthed a 'hi' when she heard her name.
"Hi, Jade," I said reluctantly.
"How about we talk in the kitchen?" suggested Leonel. The light from the large windows of his living room are blinding, but not as blinding as Jade's naked body.
Don't be rude, Rosaleen. Don't stare at her vagina.
"Yes, let's do that," I said in an odd tone.
Leonel Alexeev turned for the kitchen and I noticed a tiny detail on his back that I never expected him to have and no, not the hickies.
"Is that a tattoo?" I squinted at the small angel wings on his upper back, right below his neck.
"No, it's a very detailed birth mark in the shape of angel wings," he commented sarcastically as we arrived in the kitchen.
"I didn't peg you as the tattoo type," I admitted. It was a beautiful and very detailed work of art inked on his skin.
"I'm full of surprises, malyshka," he put his glass on the island and leaned against the counter, arms crossing in front of his chest as he faced me. Leonel was pretty confident with his body, accepting guests in only a pair of black boxers.
We were silent for a while with Mr. Alexeev assessing my state. He read between the lines and curves of my face before he spoke again, "I'm not gonna ask how you are. I know you're a wreck inside."
I didn't know how to respond to his deduction and he must've noticed because he continued, "And I'm not gonna say that I want to kill Mr. Camillo because that's uncalled for."
Thank heavens. Finally someone who doesn't resort to violence.
"But I am going to ask you this: what now?" he licked his lips and stared me down. His gaze was putting pressure on me.
"My dad came to visit. He said I should move to New York," I sighed and let my eyes scan his home because the intensity of his gaze held by mine was unbearable. "What do you think?" I asked my friend.
"I think you should go," he spoke clearly, "Unless you wanna run into Bianca again and again with her stomach bigger each time."
"You and I both know that I don't wanna leave this place," I admitted.
"Then why did you ask me?" he snorted. "You're in the process of moving on which means you're sentimental," he told me, proving once more that he'd be a psychologist in another life. "But if I know Rosaleen Martin, I know that she can do anything she's determined to do."
"You're telling me everything I need to hear and I hate that," groaning, I massaged my temples.
"If Nikolas wasn't in the picture, you'd agree to fly to that city without hesitation," he said. "A relationship is toxic if two people are holding each other down. He's holding you down and you're not even in a relationship, darling. I don't know what the hell that's called."
"Since when have you been a love expert?" was my rhetorical question.
"Ever since you needed one," he rose a sassy brow. "I was never team Nikolas. Only Team Rose."
It sounded corny, but it made what's left of my heart melt. Why didn't I just fall for Leonel or Sean? Maybe even Eric?
"Rosaleen, I know that you know deep down what's best for you. Don't stop yourself."
My eyes became watery again. I'm starting to get used to it. "I never believed in miracles, Leo, but I want one now."
Leonel processed my words and I can almost see his engine of a head produce a reply. "Maybe New York is the miracle."
I felt a tear drop and Leo's eyes followed it down my cheek. Pity clouded his face as he reached for a roll of table napkins and handed it to me. My hands tore one gingerly to wipe my tears away.
"If ever, when do you leave?" he asked as he rubbed a comforting hand against my arm.
"Right after the spring ball," I sniffled, undoubtedly ugly as I did so.
"That's in one... two... weeks?" he said quietly, counting the days.
"And it's gonna be held at my dad's resort," he snorted at the mention of Johann Alexeev, powerful old Russian guy.
"Then I have two weeks to think about it," I said, but that's all I've been doing lately: thinking and crying. For two nights now I've stared at the picture of me and Nikolas on graduation day. We look good together.
"You go do that," he advised, "And call me once you've decided."
I stayed at Leonel's house for an hour more and let the man bring my mind to other things so I'd forget about Nikolas for a while. He mostly talked about work and some journalist who's been ticking him off.
"I hate it when the press gets nosey," Leo muttered. I wasn't able to contribute much to our conversation because I couldn't relate. Wyatt's been on magazines and on the paper a few times before, but no one's ever paid much attention to me as his sister.
He also ranted about his father and how the old man's a pain in the ass. Somehow, the topic shifted to fashion and I got to hear him rant about how Chanel was overrated. Leonel was a truly intriguing man.
"Bye, Leo," I said once we made it to my car, no Jared this time. "Thanks for everything."
"You're welcome as always, Rosaleen," he hugged me briefly, "See you at the ball."
I watched the man wave goodbye in my rear view mirror as I drove away. Leonel's figure became smaller and smaller until it disappeared. The road was pretty open, though that's expected in a Thursday afternoon.
Charlotte and Wyatt opted to have lunch with me everyday until I 'leave for New York' because apparently, they think I'lI say yes to the plane ticket. I did a few things on Char's little list, namely: go shopping and eat a whole pizza in one sitting.
I didn't want to forget Nikolas but I don't want the memory of him haunting me all the time. I don't know how I can make both work because I've never experienced this before. I can only hope to be okay soon and that okay feels like good as new.
I put my hands on the large handles of our front door and swung the big slabs open. Feeling the urge to stress eat, I sauntered through the living room and into the—
What the fuck?
-
Honey-brown is a gorgeous color. Eyes of the said color are mesmerizing against sunlight, sexy as hell under the sheets, and pretty fucking annoying when they're on you for the past thirty minutes, making you internally uncomfortable because oh, I don't know, they belong to one Nikolas Camillo.
"Rose never mentioned the good news," said Wyatt who was seated to my right.
"Slipped my mind," I smiled politely at my brother, "I was too stressed that night, if you remember."
And there it was again—Nikolas's gaze hell-bent on boring a hole through my cheek. I ignored him and continued with my food which, today, was in a small amount on my plate because I lost my appetite the moment I found the parents-to-be in our kitchen.
"Why? What's wrong?" Bianca's voice came from my left, right before Nikolas.
Yes, Mr. Camillo was seated beside me. And trust me, I did attempt to have him across instead, but somehow, the man managed to slip his way into my irritability.
There were large spaces between us in the circular outdoor table so it could've definitely been worse.
The only sense of comfort I could grasp on was Jared who was standing like a prop by the door. I glance at him every now and then.
"Just some personal drama," I waved dismissively, "Shallow stuff."
Mr. Camillo hasn't really expressed himself verbally yet aside from his utterances of 'thank you' when we were served our food. He just... stared when everyone else wasn't looking and in all honesty, it was creeping me out.
"I hope you're fine now," Bianca said with a smile. I almost forgot how kind this woman was.
"I am," I told her with a smile that I could only hope to be convincing, "Thank you."
"Just say the word and I'll get Nathan, Wyatt spoke with a wink as he cut through bread."
Finally, Nikolas Camillo's voice was put to use. "Who's Nathan?"
"I don't feel like talking about Nathan. Sorry," I spoke politely. "So, Bianca, how far along are you?" I shocked myself by asking.
"One month down," her eyes gleamed of happiness that I can only dream of.
"Congratulations," I said. You win.
I ate my salad quietly. I expected myself to be a weeping potato who'd sit still in between Char and Wyatt for the whole hour, but instead of sadness, I was feeling quite hostile. I shouldn't have the right to be since I was the other woman who almost ruined their marriage, but in the spur of the moment, hostility was the defense mechanism that decided to surface my skin and become a hurt-proof shell.
At least I knew there's love left for myself—enough love for defense.
"Have you thought of any baby names?" asked Charlotte as she sliced through a roasted chicken breast.
"If it's a girl, Nicole. If it's a boy, Brian," she answered. Nicole. Nicole from Nikolas.
"That's just my preference though. Nikolas hasn't thought of any."
Because he doesn't want a damn baby.
Shouldn't have fucked her then.
Anger bloomed in my chest. "What do you think, Mr. Camillo?"
The look that Nick sent was understandable by me only. It was an expression between 'the fuck are you doing?' and 'I'm sorry, please stop.'
"I like the name Nicole," he told me.
"And if it's a boy?" I questioned, lips pursed as I read his face.
"Ross," then, he sipped his juice. Nikolas was offered wine earlier and he kept insisting to have juice instead.
Ross. He'd name his fucking son after me. Nikolas Camillo was in his Adam Levine era.
"I like Brian better," I said and hoped that I didn't sound emotional. I dragged my eyes to the dessert that just arrived because I could not stare at Nikolas anymore.
"I like Ross," said Charlotte after a thoughtful while.
"Same here," Wyatt said.
Ignoring the external noise of adults chattering about babies, I helped myself to some apple pie because pies don't break hearts.
Only Wyatt, Char, and Bianca were talking. Nikolas, like me, was enjoying his dessert in silence.
"The pie's delicious," he mumbled in an attempt at a conversation.
"It is," I agreed silently.
"So, uh, what's your plan for college?" he tried again.
Wyatt heard Nikolas this time. "She's going to New York to study and work with Dad," he answered for me with a shy yet proud smile on his William-like face.
"Wow," Bianca exclaimed, "Must be nice." She sounded sincere enough.
"Yeah... nice," the man beside me muttered as he chewed on his pie crust.
"When does she leave?"
"In two weeks," I answered, beaming kindly. Why do I sound so sure now?
"That's great," said Nikolas, "Some people dream of that."
"Yeah"
"Uh-huh"
I rushed my pie, putting bigger pieces into my mouth and downing with water. "I think I'll go to my room now," I excused myself as I got up from my seat. They were talking about New York. Specifically, Bianca's cousin-in-law's sister who worked as a lawyer there.
I expected tears and weeping but was scowling instead. Once I made it into my room, I locked the door and flung myself to my bed.
MagicAiden69: Did you guys know that elephants have breasts?
SeanTheFish: Stop watching Animal Planet ffs.
HaskinsJeric: Porn.
I rolled my eyes at my friends' conversation. This is why I don't reply.
SeanTheFish: Are you guys free tomorrow?
SeanTheFish: I have something to announce.
JieJieOnThatBeat: im down
HaskinsJeric: Same
SeanTheFish: MagicAiden69?
Magicaiden69: Yeah
I already knew what the announcement would be about.
RosesAreRedYourBallsAreBlue: I'll be there.
SeanTheFish: same cafe at 2.
I was in the process of typing a reply when there was a knock on my door. My stomach dropped as I expected the worst: Nikolas. But he wouldn't risk that, would he?
I slowly padded across the carpet floor.
"Who's there?" I asked cautiously. There was no answer.
Maybe a part of me wanted it to be him—the stupid part, the one in love.
The brown eyes I've grown to love were dimmed with sadness. That was the first thing I noticed about Nikolas's face when it came to view. Next was the subtle frown on his lips followed by the way his hair's unkept—like he's been running his fingers excessively through the wavy brown locks.
I didn't know which would hurt more: kicking him out or letting him in.
And since my heart beats for the man, I did the latter.
Once he was inside, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. I felt like distance was a must.
The sorrow in the room was too much for two people to handle. I eyed Nikolas from head to toe, perceiving the state that he's in. I honestly looked better, though that doesn't mean that I'm hurting less.
"Say what you want to say and leave," I told him because if he's here, then surely he has things to get off his chest.
"New York?" his voice was a timid whisper. It almost didn't sound like him.
"What about it?" in contrast to his, mine was clear and defiant.
"You're leaving," spoke Nick. It wasn't a question, but instead a statement that he silently hopes I'd oppose.
"I'm leaving," hearing myself say it convinces me more and more that I should leave.
Nikolas stared at the ground. He stared as if it's a complex mathematical problem that he's too determined to solve. "It's settled then."
"What you shouldn't do is care, Nick. It'll be a whole lot easier if you don't," I swallowed after releasing the words.
"But I do," his voice rose and it sounded venomous. "Fuck, I'm confused, Rose. I want to believe that the child isn't mine but—"
"It's yours. You slept with your wife and now you're having a baby. Most men would be happy."
"I wish I told you that I love you sooner," he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closing tight. "You were all I could think about that night. I-I, all I saw was you and not her."
"Stop saying that, Nick. I told you to give that love to your family because they need it more than I do," my eyes turned watery as rage started surfacing in my chest. How did a grown man turn to putty in the hands of a young woman?
He ran his fingers through his hair again and I'm starting to think that it has become a habit, "I love you. I see you everywhere, Rosaleen, and it's driving me mad."
"Get out," my hands turned into fists at my sides, "Please leave."
"Leave before they notice," I commanded again. I turned the knob and opened the door for him, hoping that my glare delivers the message.
His feet brought him into the hallway. As he was rounding the corner to descend the stairs, he was blocked by someone—someone in a black suit.
Jared looked down at Nikolas. Jared looked fucking scary and I was sure that if Wyatt were seriously considering having Nathan killed, it would be Jared who volunteers.
They stared at each other before the hurt one backed down. "You texted me?" said Jared. I did. I wanted him to drive me far away. We went downstairs to where the adults have gathered near the pool.
"I'm going to Viktor's," I announced.
Nikolas settled beside Wyatt. To them he looked bored. To me he looked agitated with himself.
"Who's that?" Bianca's suggestive voice decided to question.
"Viktor Alexeev," I smiled tightly, "He's a friend," I debunked whatever boyfriend theory formed in Bianca's thick skull.
Without waiting for another response, I headed out. Dani was busy with her mommy's senatorial activities that she'd been dragged into. Viktor, on the other hand, was bored as always in his home and welcomed me with open arms and a jar for my tears.
"I'm so not used to this," he mumbled against my hair. I'm not used to this too.
"I may be a soft man, but I'll break his nose if you want me to," he added as his hands soothed my back. A broken chortle escaped my lips at the comment.
Friends turn violent when a heart's been broken, huh?
"You want me to call Aiden for relief cookies?" Viktor asked in a voice that one uses for cooing babies.
"No, I'm good," I sniffled and wiped my eyes with a handkerchief. I pulled away from Viktor's arms when I heard the familiar ring of my phone.
"Eric Collins?" my friend read the caller ID, "Why is he calling?"
"I don't know," I admitted. My throat suddenly felt dry, "Can you get me some water?"
"Sure, baby girl," Viktor stood and headed for the kitchen. Once he was gone, I pressed answer.
"Hello? Eric?" I stood up from Vi's bed and walked to a tall window overlooking their backyard.
"Rosaleen," he sounded neighborly, exactly like the Eric I met roughly two months ago.
"I heard you're moving here?" he spoke and I could hear street sounds in the background.
"I think so, yeah," I leaned against the cool glass. The aqua blue of the pool below caught my eyes.
"My sister told me that I should help you with moving in," he chuckled, "They're obviously pushing us together."
"I know," I scoffed and shook my head, "But thanks for offering."
"I can show you around the city until you've adjusted. I know where all the good food is. I can also help you with uni."
I suddenly realized the pace at which my life was progressing. Have things always been this fast?
"Gee, thank you, Eric," I gnawed at my lip and heard Viktor enter the room, "I'm not a hundred percent sure yet, but if I say yes, I'll hit you up."
"Good," he quipped.
"I gotta go," Viktor handed me a glass of water, "Thanks again
Once the call was over, I downed the refreshment.
"Why did prince charming call?" asked my friend, hands on his hips and all.
"He wants to be my NY buddy," I put the glass down and sat on Vi's bed, the springs bouncing beneath me.
Viktor scoffed, "I trust that you know what that means?" he pointed out the underlying interest.
"Yes. But I wouldn't worry about Eric. He's a nice guy. If only I fell for him or the likes instead of Dick Camillo."
"Stupidity equals good stories, Rosiebabes. I hope you look back and laugh at this one day when you're bearing Eric's third child while on a European vacation."
Yeah, Viktor. I hope so too.
-
I've been crying a lot. I've been crying so much that I honestly think that I've made up for all the tears that I was emotionless.
Sean already told me beforehand that he's leaving, but now, sitting in our favorite coffee shop, the early warning did nothing to lessen the dejection that his departure brings.
"Mi rosa, stop crying," he squeezed my hand, "You're making me feel guilty," he groaned and fell back into his seat, dark brown curls bouncing adorably. I couldn't help myself from remembering the first time we went here. It was also the same day I bumped into Nikolas, the same day that Sean confronted me with my intentions towards Mr. Camillo, and the same day I first did it with Sean Caron.
A lot can happen in a few months.
"I promise that I'll call as often as I can," he told me as he tilted my chin up with a slender finger.
Nope, still crying.
Jie sniffled beside me, "I remember when you brought a dick-shaped bong in tenth grade," she wiped her tears with Jeric's jacket, "Shit, I'll never forget that."
"Jie, not you too," Sean groaned again and rubbed Jie's back soothingly. Jeric and Aiden were quiet the whole time.
"I also remember when you had a crush on the librarian in freshman year," she folded her arms as the tears came running down. Sean's cheeks turned pink.
"Guys, it's not like I'm dying," he gestured wildly in the air, "I'll be a video call away."
"I'm happy for you," I mumbled as my lower lip came forward. My eyes drifted to the table that I shared with Sean and Aiden all those months ago. I could still recall their Strawberry-Blueberry argument.
"We're all happy for you," said Aiden. His blonde hair which he refused to cut for weeks was now a glorious mess on top of his head with a few yellow locks falling to his forehead.
"It's just sad that you're going away," added Jeric before sipping his cookies n' cream shake in peace.
"And in three days," I reminded. I saw it coming the moment I opened my eyes this morning. Despite being caught up with Nick, I didn't fail to count the days before Sean's departure.
Sean shrugged as he sported a sad look, "I don't wanna leave early but I need to."
Jie shifted in her seat, "I guess this is also the perfect time to tell you guys," she shared a knowing look with Jeric.
"You're pregnant too?" I rose a cheeky brow at the couple who held hands.
"No, not yet," she replied, "But Jeric and I are leaving next month. We're going to art school."
"Oh god," I rubbed my eyes, "Everyone's leaving."
My dark brown eyes darted to an orange-haired Jie who's one of the most artistically inclined people I knew. Then, my eyes settled on Jeric who looked tough and beefy on the outside, but had the soft heart and the melodic voice of an angel.
Aiden Philipps came next—my forever Vice President, my favorite tour guide, the hottest stripper on Earth, and the best cook in the universe. Last was Sean Caron. Sean, who captures the eyes of many. Sean with the good hair, Sean with the sexy ass. Sean, my friend.
I quietly asked Aiden, "How about you?"
His bright green eyes went from one friendly face to another, probably engraving the sight of everyone in his memory. The boy bit his lip and shrugged, "I'm staying here. Culinary school."
"Damn it, I hate this," I muttered as I palmed my cheek, "I'm happy for everyone, but I wish I met you guys sooner. I want more time."
Jie pulled me in for a much-needed embrace. Living up to her bright orange hair, she smelled like oranges.
"Who knows when we'll be complete again," Jeric muttered more to himself than to us. I've been slapped with another truth once more: it'll take months before we all meet again, by then with new friends and maybe with different appearances.
The idea stung in my head and sunk to my stomach, making it weigh tons. I reached for Aiden's blueberry shake, hoping to redirect my mind to something physical instead of letting it drown in my emotions.
The world will rotate and revolve like a ride for everyone in it. I am only human which means that I cannot stop time like I want to. One small woman can't stop the globe from moving even if she trades in all her 11:11s. If she can stop time, she'd be the happiest girl on Earth because then she wouldn't have to move forward with anything. Not with Nikolas, not with my friends, and not with anything or anyone else she can't bear losing.
As I spent my afternoon with people worth more than pirates' treasure, I kept wishing that we were in our own little planet—one that spins and stops whenever we want it to.
Though even if this girl pours faith in all the shooting stars she's seen in her nineteen years, her wishes will remain as wishes.
By the time the sun was gone, only Sean and I were left in the table. I had to go home for dinner, the rumbling of my stomach demands it.
"Rosaleen, " he began, eyes fixed on the melting iced coffee between us, "I don't have much to tell you because I feel like you already know what my goodbye's gonna sound like. You've already been crying a lot."
A shy smile traced his beautiful lips, "I guess I'll just remind you that you're one of the most badass women I have ever met and that I'm thankful that I met you. If you ever want Mr. Camillo or any other fucker drowned, I'll be there."
There's that feeling again: the knife in my heart being twisted.
"Thank you, Sean. I'm glad I met you too," I managed to say.
"Since I'm leaving," he flashed my a boyish smirk—the type to make girls fall to their knees, "Maybe you can finally admit that you like strawberry better than blueberry."
I smiled even though it didn't feel natural, "I like strawberry more than blueberry."
Then, his smirk turned shy, "And maybe you can also admit that I do it better than Nikolas."
I beamed again and this time, it did feel natural. "You fuck better than Nikolas," I told the boy who was oblivious to the fingers crossed behind my back.
The largest grin cracked through his face and I'm glad it was for me because I was sure that I won't be seeing it in person for a while.
Despite my stomach's insistence for a good meal, I didn't rush Jared to go home. Over the past few days, I realized how calming a quiet drive at night can be.
As the wheels of my car wandered the streets, my mind wandered to the people around me, wondering if any of them were in the same state as I was. Not in the same situation but at least the same emotional baggage.
It's both odd and prideful to think that the old Rose wouldn't care about other people's problems, let alone dwell on her own ones if they don't involve compromising her lavish lifestyle. The Rosaleen now, though, has grown. She's turning into a woman who I don't know but should be acquainted with.
By the time Jared parked in the driveway, the warm lights of the mansion were contrasting against the dark that surrounded the space. It was quiet. I opened the big door and let my eager stomach lead me to the kitchen. Leftovers were on the island and I dipped my finger into a quarter of a chocolate cake. How the hell did Wyatt eat three fourths of this thing? It's practically made of sugar.
I cringed at the sweetness and opened the fridge for some water. One of the many things that come with living with a sibling is that your drinks magically disappear. In this instance, my grape juice. I rolled my eyes as I replenished with a refreshing glass of cold water.
I've always told people that ghosts don't scare me, but when I feel like I'm being haunted, I start eating my words. There was movement from the corner of my eye—a figure in white. I paused when I sensed an intense gaze wanting to puncture holes through my face.
I put my glass down and slowly glanced to the corner of the kitchen, near the backdoor.
"What are you doing here?" my voice rose at the sight of Nikolas in jeans and a white shirt. Hurt came pouring down on me again.
He took a few steps from the shadows until the dim light of the kitchen backsplash met his figure. I wouldn't say that I looked good as I was emotionally holding myself up, but Nikolas looked far worse which surprised me. I didn't think I'd affect him that bad. He's the adult here and there is a bundle of literal joy that should relieve him, after all.
"I needed to see you," he said with stubborn eyes that refused to leave my face. What struck me most were the bags underneath the man's eyes.
His eyes. They weren't the same glowy brown. They were just brown. Nearly black. They looked dead.
"I asked your brother if he wanted to hangout because I really needed to—"
"You dragged my brother into this?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest—a very Rosaleen Martin thing to do.
"I'm sorry," he quickly said, as if his instincts resort to the common phrase, "I just needed to see you."
"Needed to see me or wanted to see me? There's a difference, Mr. Camillo."
Shit, I haven't said that name aloud in a while.
"Need, Rose," he gritted his teeth and ran his fingers through his soft brown hair. I missed his soft hair.
I looked around us, cautious for Wyatt's possible presence. The mansion was quiet and I saw no other signs of life aside from us. Nevertheless, I didn't wanna risk it. Not when a baby's on the line.
"You wanna talk somewhere else?" Nikolas questioned quietly when he noticed my fret.
As much as my soul wanted to be in his presence, I wasn't a good idea. My reply came short and stern, "No."
He closed his eyes, forehead creasing and jaw tightening, "Please?"
"I'm sorry," I sighed, realizing that I've been holding the air in my lungs.
"Please, Rose?" he tried again.
I answered him with silence because the wrong answer might slip from my mouth.
"Fine," Nikolas licked his lips and gulped before he blabbered on, "I'll talk right here."
"I know I apologize a lot, but it's all I can do right now, Rose. I'm sorry that I had to fuck things up when you and I were looking forward to something. I'm proud of you because you're so strong and you look like you're holding up well. That's good because you shouldn't be letting a dumbfuck like me ruin your—"
"I'm not," my voice was weak, but he heard it, "I'm not holding up well, Nick."
As he thought of more words to say, I continued, "You're all I can think about."
"Me too," his usual exterior had crumbled.
We went quiet and I was starting to get real worried about Wyatt popping out of nowhere.
Still, a voice at the back of my mind was saying: you're leaving anyway, Rosa. Talk to him.
The dumb part of me won once again.
"Let's talk somewhere," I voiced weakly.
"I was gonna buy you roses," Nikolas's voice was a soft whisper with loud vehemence. This was followed by a demented chuckle which had me wondering if he's sober.
But I knew he was. I was confident.
"I was gonna tell you that I'm divorcing her the day after I tell her," he bit his lip, "And I was gonna give you roses."
Tears fell and I let them. At this point, I'm starting to wonder why the oceans aren't jealous of me yet.
"It's not my usual thing, but you pull me out of my comfort zone, you know?" he blabbered on and I nodded, indicating that I'm still listening despite my eyes being set ahead and not on him. Nikolas didn't sound like Nikolas.
"I wasn't going to tell you that I love you—not yet. I didn't want to rush you and I didn't want you thinking that you suddenly have a responsibility to reciprocate my feelings because you're young, Rose. There might be some guy who sweeps you off your feet and it'll be okay with me because it should be okay with me. I just wanted to give you flowers because you deserve them," his voice was low as usual, though this time hoarse and strained instead of smooth and confident.
See? Not Nikolas.
"I wish I didn't let it come to this and wish I never let you touch me in the first place. I wish I saved you the pain because honestly, you fixed me and I broke you," there goes the dour chuckle again.
He was looking at me as he talked whereas I was crying in front of the moon again, blurry vision on its glimmer.
I saw some movement from outside and realized it wasn't anyone relevant. Still, it made me uncomfortable having the conversation in the open.
We settled with going to the docks. After I agreed that we talk somewhere, we communicated through our expressions.
Nikolas nodded and I nodded back before he said 'See you there.'
No one mentioned this place, but we found ourselves here.
"You wanna known when I realized that I love you?" he scoffed to himself, "I was denying it for a long time because it sounded stupid and reckless and irresponsible. When Bianca and I visited her family, things were going good but I felt like something was missing and that something was you."
I hid my face in my hands, refusing to look anywhere near him. He fell before I did. Leonel was right.
"I accepted that I love you, but I had to limit myself because I shouldn't love you. It was fucking hard. I love it when you annoy me, Rose. I love it when you send texts out of nowhere. I love it when you barge into my office and I love seeing your face all the time. I love that you understand me and I love that you're patient with me."
I heard him let out a shaky breath and I took my time recomposing myself. It's a chilly night and what could've been Nick's lips kissing my skin has been replaced by the cool air that acquainted me. I was at a lost for words, though I think the man wasn't looking for a reply. He only wanted me to listen.
Similar to what he told me during the three-day retreat, Nikolas Camillo said "If I tell you all the things I love about you, it'll take us days."
"You can stop now," I cut his next sentences off. Even though I was hurting, I was also falling more and more. I've always heard people say that you never know how much you love someone until they're gone and now I can relate to it.
"Sorry," he said again. The word was close to being overused.
I pried my hands off my face and finally looked at my lover, if I can even call him that. Why would I lie? As of now, we still love each other.
My throat didn't feel like making sounds but I forced some words out, "Are you done?"
Nikolas's eyelids fluttered and for a second, I thought he'd start crying. "I'm done," he answered.
"Great," I sighed dramatically, "I should get going. Wyatt must be looking for me."
His crestfallen expression fell some more. It hurt me that this hurts him. We're in a cycle of hurt and I don't see it getting better unless I leave.
"Right," he muttered before getting to his feet. I did the same.
It was roughly two weeks ago that we parted in the same place and here we are now again: parting in the same place.
"Goodnight," I muttered before I turned my heel and headed to my car.
I must truly be crazy because as I drove, a part of me was happy that I was with Nikolas. The sane part? it was thinking about that baby.
-
"Wyatt, why the hell are your clothes on the ground?"
The dark gray carpet of my brother's bedroom became an open closet for his piles and piles of clothing.
"Are you moving out?" I asked, folding my arms in front of me. I watched as the man filtered out shirts under a mental category.
He then unzipped an empty luggage bag and put his clothes neatly inside. Wyatt debated on a Legend of Zelda shirt, but put it in the rejected pile.
"Get packing, Rose," he smiled as he looked up at me. Bending down, I decided to help him pack.
"Where are we going?" I asked with a pinch of anxiety. I thought there's still a week before New York?
"To the WildeLight," his fingers worked the zipper of a pocket where he put socks in.
"Why?" my head cocked to the side as I wondered. I thought the spring ball is in a week too? it was too early for anything.
I waited for his answer. I never really go to Wyatt's bedroom because there's no reason to. Taking the opportunity to judge my brother, I observed my surroundings.
His room was far more larger than any other bedrooms in the house, though that's understandable. As my eyes scanned, I found a number of things I'm jealous of, namely Wyatt's mini fridge, his collection of gaming consoles, his electronic fireplace, and the built-in aquarium with no fishes.
"We're staying there for a week," he replied gladly.
Again, I asked, "Why?"
"Because I want us to spend time before you leave," Wyatt told me, "We don't go out on weekends anymore. I'm always at work and you were always at school. Let's bond over the week until you leave."
Deep inside, I was still sad, but Wyatt's heart-warming plan brightened my mood a bit. Maybe that's what I need: a staycation.
"Sounds great," I admitted. I wanted to complain about my brother's choice of accommodation because I preferred to go somewhere different this time, but thought better than to spoil his mood.
And maybe I'll bump into Leonel.
"So get packing," he patted my head, "We're leaving at six in the morning."