Surprises

It wasn't my first time kissing a boy, but this time felt different. Each kiss had its own unique sensation, but what I experienced this time was unlike anything before. The urge to act was instantaneous and overwhelming, overpowering any attempt to resist. I found myself succumbing to my desires, only to be ensnared in a web of embarrassment and regret.

I couldn't understand why I felt this way. In the past, kissing had always brought a certain pleasure, but now, there was a sense of resistance, a taste of sorrow lingering in the air. Despite my inner turmoil, I couldn't bring myself to pull away. All I wanted was to offer solace to his troubled soul with my love.

The rest of the day at school passed in a haze. His presence lingered in my mind, his touch still felt against my skin. I could almost taste the memory of our lips meeting, his dryness yielding to the moisture of my own. Throughout the day, I found myself savoring the fleeting moment we shared, lost in its bittersweet memory.

One thing was certain: I didn't have the courage to face him now. I couldn't quite understand why. Was it because I felt I had done something wrong? Or was it simply fear of the unknown?

Surely, he must have kissed other girls before me. And surely, other girls must have kissed him before. So why did I feel this overwhelming sense of doubt and uncertainty?

Sitting in the staffroom after delivering all of my lectures, these thoughts swirled in my mind like a tempest. Had I made a mistake? I pondered.

"Well, no. I don't think so," I reasoned with myself. "Kissing someone you're attracted to can't be wrong."

But then doubt crept in again. "But what if he's my brother's friend? What if that changes things?"

I tried to reassure myself. "But what if he weren't? We've had plenty of interactions, and there's nothing inherently wrong with showing affection to someone you care about."

Yet, despite my attempts at self-assurance, nagging questions persisted. What if Carl found out? What if he told him? What would his reaction be? The uncertainty gnawed at me, leaving me feeling unsettled and anxious.

"What if he gets offended by it? After all, I didn't ask for his permission before doing so." The 'what ifs' swirled around my head, enveloping me in a cloud of uncertainty until one of my colleagues shook me out of my reverie, reminding me that the school day was over and it was time to leave.

"Where have you been lost?" she asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Nowhere," I replied with a smile, grateful for the distraction.

"Must be imagining about food!" she teased.

"Haha... Well, yeah!" I chuckled, relieved that she had changed the topic.

Together, we left the staffroom and headed towards the main gates. As we walked, something seemed to block my feet, anchoring them to the ground. I struggled to move forward, feeling as though I was trapped in place.

My colleague, Bina, turned to face me, waving her hand to get my attention. "What happened? Why did you stop there?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. I tried to respond, but my words failed me. After a moment of futile attempts, I motioned for her to go ahead without me.

Was this a dream? Or an illusion? I narrowed my gaze, trying to make sense of my surroundings. Despite my vision being clear, I couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped in a bubble of confusion.

Suddenly, the passenger window of a nearby car rolled down, revealing a man seated in the driver's seat. He leaned forward, waving at me. It felt as though I had been plunged into a pool of embarrassment. I had already been feeling ashamed about the morning's incident, and now, unexpectedly, I found myself face to face with him right outside the school gates.

"Why is he here now?" I wondered, feeling a mix of confusion and apprehension. He hadn't offered to pick me up, nor had he informed me of his plans to do so. So why was he here?

Engulfed in my own barrage of questions, I almost missed him calling out to me. With my heart pounding wildly in my chest, I approached the car. He had already unlocked the door for me, a gesture that added to my confusion. "Why does he do so many favors for me?" I wondered, feeling overwhelmed by his kindness. Should I tell him to stop burdening me with it?

Sitting in the seat and locking the door, I mustered the courage to ask him directly about the reason for his unexpected presence. However, I couldn't bring myself to maintain eye contact with him.

"I was just passing by, and I happened to check my wristwatch. When I realized the time, I thought I might as well do you a favor," he explained, looking at me.

"Stop looking at me. Look away," I silently urged myself.

"Well, you shouldn't have bothered yourself for me," I replied, searching through my purse for something.

Suddenly, a wave of panic washed over me as I realized I had forgotten to bring my keys with me in the morning rush.

"Shoot," I muttered, feeling considerably flustered.

"What happened?" he asked, his concern evident.

"I forgot my keys," I confessed, my worry growing.

"Isn't Carl home today?" he inquired, trying to offer a solution.

"He has a meeting; he texted me earlier to inform that he'll come home at night," I explained to him.

"Oh," he muttered, pressing his lips together. Without saying anything further, he turned the keys and we set off to somewhere unknown to me.

We were likely on our way back home when he received a call from the hospital informing him of an emergency case. He swiftly changed the route and drove us to the hospital. I sat in his room while he tended to the patient. The room was stark white with minimal furniture, adorned only with pictorial diagrams of the human body hanging on the walls. A black wooden table sat in the center, covered with a plain glass top. On it, a box containing a stethoscope was neatly arranged. Beside it lay a box of pencils, a notepad with the name of the hospital and Arthur inscribed on it, and several drawers on the other side.

After waiting for several minutes, I rose from my chair and walked around the table. A comfortable rolling chair caught my eye, and I swiveled it before settling into it. There were three vertical drawers. I slid open the first one, finding it packed with files upon files, likely containing test reports of his patients.

Pushing it back in, I moved to the middle drawer, only to find it filled with more files. With a sigh, I moved to the last drawer. Among the files, tucked away in the left corner, was a black velvet box.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I picked up the box and opened its lid, revealing a diamond ring inside. Despite its worn condition, it was clear that someone had worn it for quite some time.

But who?

"Was he in a relationship with some girl?" I wondered silently. "Or is he still involved with her?"

Despite my curiosity, I couldn't recall any indication that he was in a relationship. Most of the time, he spent his evenings in our apartment, hanging out with Carl and their other friends. Mornings were undoubtedly busy for him, attending to his patients and fulfilling his duties.

Lost in a whirlwind of questions, I was startled when I sensed someone approaching the door. Quickly, I replaced the box and closed the drawer. Before I could return to my previous position, the glass door slid open, and Arthur entered the room.

Caught off guard, I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me as he looked at me with surprise. It seemed like too many embarrassing moments for one day. I hurriedly rose from my seat and apologized for my intrusion.

"Oh, no need for that. That's completely fine," he reassured me.

Without saying anything further, I returned to the chair I had occupied earlier, feeling a bit self-conscious.