Zoey's POV
After we spent fifteen minutes eating our food, we went to bed.
I dreamt of a vague silhouette and sweeping sidewalks.
It was 6.30 in the morning when I woke - wait no, being woken up.
"Zoey, wake up."
I grunt.
"Zoey, wake up."
I grumble.
"Zoey!"
I groan.
I peel my eyelids open slowly. Chris is standing over me, smiling.
"Yeah?"
"Come on. I want to show you something."
-
Chris leads me to his living room as I rub my eyes groggily, trying to keep them as wide as possible.
"What is it? Huh?" I murmur.
"What are you mumbling about?"
"What do you want to show me ?"
"Just follow me."
I hold onto his hand loosely, I feel so lazy. I just want to go back to sleep. Chris has already changed out of his gray sweatpants, into dark blue jeans and a black shirt. Mmm.
We walk to the window that's facing the street.
"Look." He points to something, or rather, someone that's on the sidewalk. A man that looks like he's in his late 60s is sweeping the sidewalk rhythmically. His movements slow but at ease.
I stare at him curiously. Chris wraps his arms around me from behind and rests his head on my shoulder.
"See, isn't it nice to lessen his workload?"
I nod dumbly.
"He comes here every weekend to sweep the sidewalks. I don't usually ask for help but I thought I could use you as a free labour yesterday."
"You do this every week?"
"Yeah. Unless I'm working on an assignment or something."
"I don't see you doing it when you're with me."
I can sense his smile before seeing it through the vague reflection on the window. "You're the assignment that I'm working on."
I tilt my head to look at him, my attention diverted for a moment. "Oh, so I'm an assignment now?"
"Yeah."
I turn my attention back on the old man sweeping the sidewalks. So that's why he insisted on doing that last night.
"Do you want to go back to sleep? You have to leave for your father in a few hours."
"Oh, right. Him."
"Come on. You need more sleep."
I tear my eyes away from the man as Chris tugs on my hand, pulling me away from the window.
"Do you need me to drive you there?"
"Yeah. I think so."
"Alright."
I climb into bed, Chris following suit. He hugs me close so that my back is pressing against his front and sighs.
"It's going to be okay, yeah? Don't let whatever that's going to happen later on affect you too much. Remember to text me." He showers the back of my head with kisses, "Now sleep."
-
"I have to get home to find some clothes to change into. I'll be back in a few minutes."
I close the door behind me as I walk briskly across the empty street. Perks of staying close to your boyfriend - You don't have to waste time traveling.
Cons of staying close to your boyfriend - None, you'll just get distracted too easily.
I step in as I push open the door to my house. I jog to my closet.
Hmm. What do you wear when you're meeting your father that has been absent in your life for years?
I rummage through my messy closet, and finally decided on a simple white dress.
I make my way to the window, and just when I am about to close it so that I can change, something catches my eye.
Chris is in his room, talking on the phone, pacing around with his arm folded. His jaw is tight and clenched. His eyebrows squeezed together, creasing his forehead. Shit, he's angry about something.
I pull the curtains by a little, only peeking my head out to look at him. He continues to speak into the phone for another minute or so, before hanging up.
This time, I draw the curtains all the way close before Chris can see me.
I don't have much time to dwell on this right now. I strip out of my clothes and change into the white dress that's lying on my bed.
I decide to stay in the house a little longer just to let Chris have some time to himself before he has to deal with me.
The phone on my bed vibrates.
"Hello."
"Zoey. Do you need help getting to the place?"
"Oh hi, mom."
"Do you?"
I sigh, "No."
"Alright. See you."
She hangs up on me before I can reply. I sigh, again.
This kind of conversation are getting more and more frequent between the both of us and it's definitely tiring for me too.
Before leaving for Chris' house, I grab a bunch of frozen grapes from the freezer and begin munching on them as I exit the house.
I open the door and was momentarily struck without oxygen as Chris engulfs me in his arms.
"You've been gone for so long." His voice sounds weird.
"It was just a few minutes."
"A few minutes is enough."
I pull away from him.
"What's wrong?"
I bet you ten bucks this is about the phone call.
"Nothing's wrong."
"But - "
"We should leave now. We wouldn't want to be late."
"No - "
"I'll go get my keys."
He turns and leaves for his room.
I sigh. If he doesn't want to talk about it, I couldn't and shouldn't force him into it either. Once bitten, twice shy, I can still remember the god awful time when Chris stormed out of the room because of my stupid curiosity. Ugh, I hate it.
"You ready to go?"
"Yeah."
-
"Call me if something happens. Text me to keep me updated, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Good." Chris pulls me into a hug, pressing his lips to my forehead.
Suddenly, something rings in my mind.
"Wait! What about the books?"
"We'll exchange them when we're back home."
"Okay."
"Be careful, alright? Remember to text me."
I nod my head.
"I'll go now, remember to text me!"
"Yes, yes. Be gone, boyfriend." I grin. He turns to grin back at me as he walk to his car.
As Chris drives off, my heart plummets to the bottom of my stomach. It was as if my sense of fortitude for this whole situation left with him, and now I'm just a mess of emotions and disequilibrium.
Slightly hyperventilating, I make my way to the private room where I'm supposed to meet them. I take in a shaky breath.
And push open the door.
There he sits. He's wearing a dark blue shirt and a black pants, his back facing me.
I step into the room quietly, only making a simple thud as I close the door.
His head shoots up, and turns to face me.
Woah.
Staring back at me is a man that looks so familiar yet so distant. He looks absolutely exhausted, but there is a glint in his eyes and a nostalgic smile on his face that tells me he's happy at least.
"Hi."
"Yes. Hi, Zoey." He rises from his seat and shuffles his way awkwardly to me. "Yeah, take a seat."
I sit down beside him. I glance at my phone screen. It's 10.03 already. Why is mother not here yet?
"Do you know why I asked to meet you?"
"No? Am I supposed to?"
"No. I just asking. See - "
Before he can finish his words, the door opens and a waiter saunters in with a tray in his arms, he places it in the centre of the table.
"Sir, the chicken you've ordered."
"Thanks."
The waiter smiles broadly before retreating out of the room.
"As I was saying, I might not - "
The door bustles again for a moment and mother trips her way in, almost falling face down.
"Oh hey, mom."
"Hi, Zoey."
She takes the seat beside me. I stare at her closely, something's not right about her today.
She smiles unnaturally as she subconsciously adjust her hair and skirt. I turn around to see Father looking confused.
"Lydia? What are you doing here?"
"Oh Steven, I'm here to see you."
"You weren't invited."
Now, I'm confused. I turn to look at mother.
"Wait, wait. He doesn't know that you're going to be here?"
She coughs unnaturally, and in a low voice, she hums, "Yes, he knows that I'm going to be here."
"No, I don't." He answers with finality behind me.
I raise an eyebrow at her. What is she doing? I stare at her irked face, her lipstick is brighter, her blush is darker, her eyelashes are longer. Her makeup is thicker than usual - is she trying to . . . ?
I think I know what's going on. And that thought alone makes me want to sigh over and over again.
"Look, let's just brush that aside. It's been a long time since I've seen you, Steven. How have you been?"
"Good."
The corner of her mouth twitches, but the smile on her lips remains.
I figure I had to say something sooner or later, so might as well, "Um, yeah. Okay, so - um. Is there any reasons why I'm here today?"
"Zoey, you see, we - " he pauses and glances at mother for a moment, before sighing, " - I just wanted to see you, I guess."
There is a moment of silence as I narrow my eyes at him in skepticism. He kicks me gently under the table, telling me to play along. I stop staring at him and smile politely.
"Fine. That's a weird explanation but I'll take it."
There's a knock on the door and the waiter from just now strides in. He places down four plates of food and exits.
"Excuse me, I'll go to the washroom for a moment." Mother smiles sweetly and exits the room too.
I feel a tap on my shoulder.
"Zoey. You need to listen carefully to me. I don't want your mother to know this. I believe that she has already told you what happened between us?"
"Yes."
"Do you know that the lady that's with me, actually has a husband that's a bigshot hooligan?"
"Yes."
He takes in a deep breath, like it's a much needed whiff of air from a diver that had just returned to the surface. With a worry-stricken face, he says, "Please stay calm. I'm sorry that I dragged you down into this pile of mess. Look, that husband of hers found out that I've been with her recently - "
"Wait, wait. Huh? You're still with the same woman? For like 8 years? How is it that the husband only found out about this recently?"
"More than 8 years, darling. I'm stuck with her and I'm not regretting it - well, maybe a little. There's a lot of restrictions and complications for us in this relationship, but hey, I'm happy."
For a moment, the man in front of me looks completely in love, faraway in his little own world of contentment and bliss. The worry on his face is gone. He looks purely satisfied.
"But, not everything has a happy ending. Especially not when everybody out there is gerting more and more fucked in the head with each passing day. Zoey, I want you to be really careful for yourself, or whoever that you spend a lot of time with, your mother for an instance. Because of this relationship between me and the lady, her husband is not going to let us off easily. You - "
"You mean, they hasn't divorced yet?"
"They are in the midst of divorcing."
"It took them that long to decide on a divorce?"
"That husband of hers only wanted her to bear his children so that he can have someone to 'take over his throne' as a bigshot."
"Oh."
He takes a quick glance at his watch, then the door, before looking back, straight into my eyes, telling me this is some serious shit.
"You need to be careful. Now that the bastard knows about what's going on between me and her, he is bound to do something about it. As much as he didn't love her, he feels that she is his property and I've taken his property away from him. He knows who I am. Sooner or later, he will know about you and your mother. He might use you two against me."
"Why? How is he even going to do that? You and mother divorced years ago."
"But you're still related to me, biologically speaking. And you're related to your mom."
I scoff, "What can he do? Splash paint all over our home?"
"Darling, I'm afraid that's not only what he can do. Don't forget that he's a hooligan. He can easily kidnap you and that will be the end of you. God knows what goes through that person's mind."
As if I was momentarily paralysed, my mouth hangs open and my eyes wide with horror.
"He can't do that!"
Father. . . Steven. . . Dad. . . whatever, sighs despondently, "He can, and he would. He kidnapped his own son previously to demand for money from his ex-wife. He broke that poor boy's arm even after receiving the ransom."
Dread fills my entire entity. My stomach churns and my mind blanks. I'm at a loss for words.
"I. . . what do I do?"
"You just have to be really cautious for yourself."
"I don't know what to say."
"Then don't. You want to eat something?"
"I don't feel like eating."
There is a moment of silence again. My hand trembles and a cold from within engulfs me.
"What's taking her so long?" Father whispers in a quiet voice. I snap my head up, my eyes as wide as before. No.
He looks at me hesitantly, then swallows. "No, please Zoey. Nothing is happening. Don't worry. Don't get too jumpy."
At this precise moment, mother bursts into the room, all grinning and whatnot.
"Hey, sorry I took so long."
"Oh, it's fine, mom."
"Yeah, it's fine, Lydia. Start eating. Don't let the food turn cold."
I heave a huge sigh of thankgod-ness and force a smile onto my lips.
My fingers are intertwined tightly with one another under the table, my limbs feeling very weak.
Suddenly, I became aware of a warm hand on my clammy ones. I look up to see Father smiling affirmingly.
I return the smile, as I felt a buzz on my phone.
I untangle my hands from one another and checks my screen. There's nine new messages from Chris. Oh shit, I didn't exactly text him at all since I've been here.
*Hey, how is everything?*
*Zoey, is everything okay?*
*Zoey!*
*Baby are you okay*
*You better text me back*
*Or I'll ignore you for 5 hours straight*
*I mean it*
*I swaer to god zoey.*
*swear*
I smile at his texts. I dial his number as I stand to excuse myself from the table. As I reach the other side of the room, Chris picks up.
"I'm going to ignore you when you get your ass back here."
I laugh rigidly, "Oh, Chris." His voice alone makes me feel better.
There is a long pause, before he speaks again. "What's wrong?"
I swear to god, it's almost impossible to hide something from him. He has some sort of psychic forces to sense if sonething's wrong.
"Nothing."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"I'm really going to ignore you."
I don't reply.
"What's wrong?" His voice firm and final.
I sigh shakily. How do I tell him that I'm scared to death here? How do I tell him that his life might be in danger because of me?
"Zoey, you know you can tell me anything."
The thought of something happening to him is oppressing. I want to cry, I want to bawl my eyes out. I'm scared and I just want to be home, with Chris.
"Zoey - "
I hang up on him before he can finish. I probably sound like I'm crazy, but I don't want to deal with Chris, not now. I need to get myself calmed before facing him. I don't want to just crumble or get all worked up in front of him.
I turn my attention back to the two people at the table. I can feel their stares on me but I choose to ignore them.
"So, yeah. You guys done with the food?"
"Not yet. You're not going to eat something?"
"I don't feel like eating."
"Oh. Okay. We'll finish soon."
-
Father drove me home after dropping mom at her workplace. He didn't really paid much attention on her and it's tragic to see her trying to get his attention with fake giggles and abrupt jokes. Can't she see that this was the guy that left us? Wasn't she absolutely against the idea of seeing him again? I don't get it.
The car ride was pretty smooth. We didn't really talked, but there were occasional polite glances and smiles exchanged.
I knock on Chris' door timidly. I figure it'll be better for me to knock instead of barging in myself. I'm sure he's pretty pissed with me. Within a split second, it's being flung open.
"You asshole."
And just like this morning, Chris' arms are wrapped around me, just that it's way tighter now.
His head is buried into the curve of my neck, I can feel his warm breath tickling the skin.
"I fucking hate you so damn much."
"Why?"
He pulls away, "You want to ask why? You hung up on me, you didn't want to tell me what's going on, you didn't text me at all when you promised to. I wasn't there when something happened. Maybe that's why."
Guilt washes through me. I did promise to text him.
"Chris - "
"No. Don't. Do you know how worried was I? I wanted to just drive there and bring you away from them but I didn't want to interfere. Do you know how helpless I felt? You're so selfish, do you have any idea how I felt?"
This is not what I expected. This is worse. I'm wasn't prepared for this. What do I do? What do I say?
"Chris, huh? Please, I - "
"Stop. Just don't."
He glares at me with tired eyes before turning and walks into the house.
I am on the verge of crying by now. It's like an emotion roller coaster. I was so upset with everything, but I managed to calm myself down for the sake of Chris. And now, because of Chris, I feel like shit.
I follow after him. Closing the door as quietly as I can, I make my way to the bathroom. I lock the door, with a soft click.
I stare back into the mirror. My eyes are glossy and red. Slowly, I close my eyes as images of Chris getting hurt because of me floods my mind. This is not good. I can feel the tears from my eyes trickle down my cheek.
I begin to sob pathetically. What do I do? I'm so confused. Chris is angry with me, he's probably going to ignore me if I try to talk to him. That alone breaks my heart. I sob harder.
I don't know how much time passed by while I sobbed. My attempts to make as little noise as possible are futile, I guess. As there is a knock on the door while I was trying to wipe off some of the moisture from my face.
"Zoey. You in there?"
I cough quietly, to make my voice sound as normal as possible.
"Yeah."
"Can I come in?"
"No!"
"Let me in."
The door knob begin to rattle. I rush to the door, putting my foot against it and grabbing the doorknob as tightly as I can. The door is locked but I know he has the keys to it.
"Let me in." He growls.
"No!"
"Why?"
"What why?"
"Why can't I come in?"
"I need privacy."
"Privacy can suck my ass. Let me in, Zoey."
"No. Just go away."
"Fine. Suit yourself."
I hear footsteps and the sound of door closing. My body slackens as I crumble to the floor like a pile of mess I am. I lean against the wall as the tears renew. What is this? The crying convention for my eyes? The tears don't seem to stop.
Suddenly, the door swings open.
"Hah!"
Chris stands at the doorway, grinning as he holds up a key proudly. His eyes land on me, who is sitting on the ground, crying. His grin drops instantly and there's a blank look of sadness on his face.
I try to cover my face as much as possible so he wouldn't see my red eyes and damp face. Pushing myself off the floor, I run to the sink with wobbly legs.
I splash my face with cold water while trying my best to swallow down the lump in my throat.
I reach for a towel with my back still facing him and drys my face. After taking a peek into the mirror and making sure I look normal and not like I've just cried for at least ten minutes, I turn to face Chris with a smile.
"Yeah?"
He stares at me tenderly. Oh look, this is the Chris that I love the most. The caring kind of him.
He walks to me, his face void of much emotions except for hurt and confusion. He raises his hand and gently touches my cheek. I lower my gaze onto his lips instead of his eyes.
"What is going on exactly?"
"I told you, nothing is wrong."
"Zoey."
"Nothing is wrong, Chris."
Anger flashes on his face, he growls, "Oh yeah? Nothing is wrong? So my girlfriend hangs up on me, sounding terribly worried, unwilling to tell me anything is considered normal? She locks herself in the bathroom and cries, without saying anything is considered normal? She doesn't even want to look into my eyes as I talk to her and that's considered normal? So for the love of god, Zoey, tell me what the fuck is going on before I confront that father of yours."
I don't know what's the best way to react to this. Without even thinking, I cry, "You really want to know what the fuck is going on? What if I tell you, your damn life is in danger because of me? What if I tell you, everyone around me is in danger because of me?"
Chris stares at me in confusion. "What - "
"Remember when I told you that my father ran away with a woman that's married to a bigshot mafioso? Yeah! That's right. He's gonna come and try to get me. He found out about my father so now he's gonna come for us. For revenge, for money? I don't know! He can maybe kidnap me and break my leg and ship me off to some human trafficking countries or demand for a million bucks from my mother but I don't give a shit! But I give a lot of shits about you and I don't want you to get hurt because of me! I don't want a broken leg from you, I don't want you to be shipped off, I want you safe. I don't know what to do. I don't want anything to happen to you because you mean so much to me. I don't want anything to happen to you because you're my boyfriend and the only one I care so dearly."
There's tears all over my face again. I am wiping my face furiously. Confusion. . . shock. . . hurt. . . care. . . I can see it on his face.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You didn't give me a chance to!"
"Shit, I'm so sorry, baby."
"I was shocked too. . . and - and I figure it'll be better if I can calm myself down first before talking to you. Hearing your voice over the phone, made me want to cry. And I don't want to cry in front of them."
"I'm sorry, Zoey."
"I don't want anything to happen to you."
"Zoey. . ."
He wipes away the remaining moisture on my cheeks.
"Come."
He grabs my hand tight and pulls me along as he walks into the bedroom.
"Lie down."
I look at him curiously, but the look on his face tells me that he wouldn't really care what I'm going to ask. Awkwardly, I lie down on the bed, curling into a ball instinctively.
He climbs in along with me, pulling the white sheets over us so that our bodies below the head are totally buried in warmth.
"If you want to cry, cry here. I don't want you to cry alone."
"I'm not going to cry."
He smiles weakly, "Good. Now, tell me the whole story of what happened just now."
And I begin to speak. Every word that came out of my mouth, felt. . . natural. Like I am supposed to say these words, to tell someone how I feel. I won't dealing with this, all by myself.
"Sleep, baby. You're tired." He kisses my forehead softly.
The last thing I know before I drifted off, was an arm pulling me close to a warm body. And a very long kiss on my forehead.