Tea Is Fantastic

The nib of my pen scraped against the grainy surface of the paper in my diary, a solitary sound echoing the turmoil within. With Carl's presence looming in the house, I sought solace in the confinement of my room. Yet, amidst the storm of emotions, I found myself torn between the sting of Carl's indifference and the ache of Arthur's neglect. Understanding the complexities of men felt like navigating a labyrinth, entangling every corner of my already chaotic mind.

As I poured my heart onto the pages, each stroke of the pen seemed to lighten the burden within, transforming the pristine white paper into a canvas of my inner darkness. "I hate these men!" I scrawled at the page's end, a declaration of my frustration.

A knock shattered the silence, followed by Carl's voice, calling my name. His presence sent shivers down my spine, a reminder of the turmoil within. With a heavy sigh, I closed my diary, a tangible manifestation of my inner struggles, and approached the door.

"Why are you here now?" I silently questioned, anticipating the weight his words would add to my burden.

I opened the door to find him standing there, unchanged, clad in his casual attire. His presence felt like an intrusion, disrupting the fragile peace I had found in solitude. Yet, despite my reservations, I couldn't deny the pull of his presence, drawing me into the tumultuous dance of emotions once again.

I turned around, my back now to him as I moved towards my bed. His voice pierced the silence once more, calling my name, halting my steps despite my inward resolve to keep moving forward. "Grace!" His voice resonated, sinking into the depths of my soul. It was him, the one I loved above all else in this world. His unwavering support, his presence through every trial and tribulation, they all spoke volumes of his love for me. How could I not be drawn to him?

Despite everything, despite his past deeds and his steadfast loyalty, I couldn't shake the weight of his opposition to my decisions. I craved his acceptance, his understanding. This profession I had chosen for myself, teaching, it shouldn't be a point of contention. Yet, in the eyes of my family, entrenched in the world of wealth and business, it was seen as beneath them. I knew they would never approve. But for him, for the love I held for him, I wanted his support, his acceptance.

He entered the room, his presence enveloping me as he drew nearer. His hands found my shoulders, turning me to face him, his touch gentle yet firm. "Look at me," he requested softly, and I obeyed, lifting my gaze to meet his. In that moment, I was captivated by the depth of emotion in his eyes. They glistened with tears, translucent and pure, threatening to spill over at any moment.

My heart skipped a beat. Was he crying? I was mesmerized by the reflection of my own face in his eyes, mirrored in the pearly tears that welled up, each one a testament to the emotions swirling within him, forcing their way to the surface.

It was me, in his eyes, all over there. I could see it. I was reason of them. I regretted that moment so hard, so badly, so disastrously.

'Can't you do anything good in your bloody life, Grace!?'

My fingers flew up, approaching eyes as I pressed them with my thumb and let the pearls landed on my nail as I flipped them in the air.

The shutter of his sockets were still down when I wrapped my arms around his body swiftly and hugged him tightly.

A moment of silence, as his breath brushed my hair and I rubbed jis back with my hands.

Neither of us say a word, we let the silence linger between us for as long as it wants and do it for us, settle the things we couldn't do better.

"Forget about it." I said when I felt his hands reaching my shoulders and he clutched them in and detached my body from his.

He eyed down me, those numb eyes. It terrified me. No matter who the man is, whether I'm related to him in any sense or not, whenever I see some man crying or his eyes even a slightest numb, it sent chills down my spine.

"I'm sorry." He blew out as sprinkles of saliva showered on me. I put my hand on his mouth and stopped any further words making their way out of his mouth.

"Don't be." Despite how terribly hurt I was, I still didn't need such like words coming out of his mouth, considering all the things he had done for me. And I somehow agreed to that even if he says this there might be some good for me in it.

I pulled myself into him and hugged.

"You'd mind a cup of tea with me now?" He asked over my head.

"I'd love, my head is already exploding." He pushed me back the moment I uttered these words.

"Are you ok?" He asked, concernedly.

"Yes yes... Just a casual headache." I nodded my head.

Walking ahead I said.

"Come on, I'll make tea for us."

He followed me out to the living room.

I went straight to the kitchen whereas he headed towards the living room, turned on the TV and adjusted himself into the sofa, flipping his legs in air before landing them onto the chest of the table, as I had been espying on him from the kitchen.

"You know what!?" I said placing his muh on the table while holding mine in my hand as I sat beside him.

"What?" He said arching his head at me.

"Murphy came in the evening to inquire about you."

"Ahaan..!"

"Yeah, he instructed me to inform you about his visit. I reckoned he might have some business with you."

After a brief pause, he averted his gaze from the TV and took a sip from the mug I placed on the table in front of him and then he slightly tilted his head in my direction.

"Umm.. Yeah!

The tea is fantastic."

He later adjoint it with a compliment to avert my attention from the topic.

"Thanks!" I passed a brief smile his way.

I was kinda relieved that things got better between us but little did I know was that it was momentary. Just a moment of silence before a drastic hurricane waiting to turn my world upside down.