I'm going alone
Larisa’s pov
The human mind has a peculiar way of tormenting us, especially when it urges us to help someone in desperate need. I should have deleted the message without even reading it; it would have spared me the internal struggle. Now, Taylor is using his kindness against me, and it has left me utterly bewildered.
I glanced at the rear-view mirror and caught a glimpse of the driver, who had been avoiding eye contact. As the car moved forward, I felt my palms becoming sweaty. I needed to help Taylor, not for his sake, but for the situation he found himself in. Oh, dear, this is another situation that will inevitably entangle me in his life. I closed my eyes for a moment and an idea came to mind.
"Stop!" I exclaimed, and the driver slowly applied the brakes, eventually parking the car by the side of the road. Before he could say a word, I continued, "Take me back to where you picked me up." The driver looked at me, his face filled with unspoken thoughts, then he turned the car around, and we headed back.
About ten minutes later, I found myself standing in front of the door that I had slammed shut just moments ago, vowing not to return. But my resolve had crumbled, and here I was, about to open that very same door. My face displayed clear anger as I swung the door open without bothering to knock, and there was Taylor, almost in the same spot where I had left him.
"Thank you for..." he began.
"Are you thanking me? Don't thank me. I came back for a reason. Your current situation, confined to a wheelchair, compelled me to return. Also, if I am to go to the airport to pick up your brother, I will go alone. If you don't agree to my terms, then I'm leaving." I stared at him, and it seemed like the balance of power had shifted.
"Thank you for not embarrassing me," he paused, sensing he needed to say more as he tried to wheel himself towards me.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"I wanted to give you a hug for what you've done for me..."
"No need."
"Are you still angry with me? I told you to wear whatever you wanted. And please, this is crucial. Don't show any signs of anger when my twin brother is here. Please!"
Without uttering a word, I left his presence and retreated to my room. What does he hope to achieve? He wants me to pretend everything is fine in a relationship that has already fallen apart. I don't want to seem ungrateful; otherwise, I wouldn't have returned in the first place. The worst he could do is call my friends and tell them that I abandoned him when he needed me the most. My friends know he helped me tremendously with my mother's hospital bills. But does that justify being trapped in this oppressive relationship?
I sat on my bed, ready to wait until his twin brother arrived at the airport. Glancing at the time, I realized it was still four hours away, and those four hours felt like an eternity in my mind.
An hour later, as I lay on the bed with my back turned, pondering how to make time pass more quickly, I heard a knock on the door. Without a doubt, I knew it was Taylor. I remained silent, and when he realized I wasn't responding, he gently pushed the door open and entered the room, this time using crutches. I was surprised by the frequency with which he used the word "please" in almost every sentence.
"My apologies, my love, for insisting on what you should wear to my parents' anniversary celebration. He paused, awaiting my response, and silence filled the room. Then he asked, "Have you changed your mind?"
"On what?" I raised my voice.
"To accompany you in welcoming my twin brother?"
"No..." I began, but he swiftly interrupted me, perhaps fearing what I might say or thinking it best not to add to my previous statement.
"I understand. You can go alone, as long as you're with me, and we can resolve our differences after the anniversary. But please, don't display this attitude when my brother is present," he pleaded, his voice filled with deep sorrow that contradicted his true nature.
"I won't. Can you please leave now?" I sat on the bed, our eyes locked, and he slowly exited the room with his clutches.
It was 3 pm when I rose from the bed, the agreed-upon time to leave for the airport. Taylor had given me his brother's phone number, but due to my anger, I didn't bother to ask him for his twin's name. He had mentioned their striking resemblance. I grabbed my small bag, deeming no need to change my attire. Stepping out of the house, Taylor's eyes were following me, and awaiting any words from my mouth. All I was thinking as I left the house was on how I was going to pretend that everything was fine in front of his brother.
Halfway to the airport, I whispered to myself,
"It's just three or four more days, and I will finally be free from his grasp." As I prepared to exit the car upon reaching the airport, a notification sound interrupted my thoughts. It was a text message.
"Please, my dear, don't be angry when my brother arrives." Without hesitation, I deleted the message, already resolved to maintain the facade of a harmonious relationship. I retrieved the phone number from my bag and dialed it.
"Hello, where are you? I'm at the airport to pick you up."
"Okay, I'm already walking out of the airport. What are you wearing?"
"A striped yellow gown," I replied and headed towards the exit doors.
After a few minutes, I spotted him. He was absolutely captivating. I refrained from waving and simply enjoyed watching as he approached me. He was an exact replica of his brother, Taylor. I was mesmerized by his irresistible presence. I couldn't help but wonder why I hadn't met him first. His piercing blue eyes seemed to glisten in the light, and his strong jawline and defined cheekbones gave him a rugged and masculine allure. In that brief moment, I pondered if Taylor's desire to improve his physique was influenced by his brother's appearance. The way he effortlessly handled his luggage revealed his well-built biceps and triceps, and his slightly exposed chest showcased its broadness. His girlfriend must consider herself the luckiest woman alive. Resting her head on that chest must be a heavenly experience. If this was what Taylor envisioned, breaking only one leg turned out to be fortunate for him. This was the result of long-term practices, not a fleeting appearance that Taylor wanted to achieve.
"Hello, my name is Larisa. I'm here to pick you up from the airport."
He smiled at me instantly, and in my mind, I urged him to take action. Why wouldn't he embrace me? I didn't introduce myself as Taylor's girlfriend. I wanted to relish the feeling of being single for a moment. Just as he was about to divert his piercing blue eyes, I said something to bring us closer.
"Let me take your luggage. You must be exhausted from the long trip." His response astonished me.
"Beautiful ladies shouldn't be burdened with carrying bags." Instead of handing me his luggage, he grasped my hand, and we walked as if we had both just completed the journey.
His touch sent electric sensations racing through my hand, down my spine, and into my feet. I didn't want this moment to end, and for the first time since knowing Taylor, I forgot he even existed.
As we departed from the spot where we stood, passersby couldn't help but gaze at us. Imagine the feeling of everyone admiring the person you're standing with. Some may have assumed we were in a long-distance relationship and that he had come to visit me. They probably imagined how our night together would unfold.
When we reached the car, after he had stowed his luggage in the trunk and I was about to enter the driver's seat, he swiftly approached me.
"Why should such a beauty strain her feet and hands in the car I'm about to enter? Please, give me the key, and I'll be the one driving you."
As he said, 'driving you,' my infatuated and sensually aroused mind conjured up a different kind of journey, and I blurted out without hesitation.
A few minutes away from the airport, he suddenly exclaimed, "Oh my goodness! I forgot something. How am I going to manage this?"
"What did you forget?" I asked, maintaining a calm tone as if we had known each other for a long time.
"You won't understand," he said, his gaze fixed on the storefront as if he had forgotten something. Spotting a supermarket, he swiftly parked the car and hurried inside. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. It felt as if he was tugging at my heartstrings, pulling me closer. My mind buzzed with thoughts, and my fingers intertwined, grasping at what was once ordinary. Suddenly, he opened the car door and stepped in.
"I'm so sorry, this is for you," he said, handing me a beautifully colored rose. My brain paused for a moment, and I began to regret not mentioning that I was his brother's girlfriend. In those fleeting seconds, I contemplated, but before I could speak, he added,
"By the way, my name is Dylan. I'm thrilled to meet you, the first person I've encountered upon returning to my city after three years."
I tried to smile, attempting to suppress my emotions, while my eyes remained on the rose as he drove home. I wished I could stay in this enchanting dream forever. Suddenly, the car came to a halt, and I was about to ask,
"Why did you stop?"
But as I glanced out of the car window, I realized we had arrived home. The trip that was long in my eyes when going to the airport has become so short because of him, and the rose he gave me was still in my hands. I struggled to process the rapid pace of events when Dylan hurried out of the car, spotting Taylor emerging from the house with a crutch.
"What happened to you, Taylor?" he exclaimed. The rose, once cherished moments ago, now felt like a thorn in my grasp. The first question that raced through my mind was,
"How am I going to explain this rose in my head to Taylor?"
Fear gripped my heart, and uncertainty loomed ahead.
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