Chapter Forty-five

Chapter Forty-five

“We’re not done with this.” My mom said coldly with a grim expression on her face before stalking away, her feet pounding away at the tiles as she walked.

My dad made faces at her as she walked away, mimicking her expression, making me laugh a little as he looked so amusing. He immediately skipped towards me, slouching down on the bed beside me as he held the waffles in a plate out in front of me.

“Your mom can be so scary sometimes,” he whispered sardonically, though his words were loud enough for someone standing at the door to hear. He had a childish excitement humour on his face as his eyes twinkled with delight while he spoke.

I gave him a small, forced smile as I tried to dissipate the tension that had already welled up in me. I felt a pang of guilt as he sat there, looking carefree and happy to be by my side. He felt undeserving of my love and attention, he felt remorseful for something that had happened in the past, way back before I was born, but here I was sitting right beside him, like a self-righteous pharisee, not willing to confess my sins, how my own decisions and stubbornness had brought me into a mess I could not even pull myself out of.

My mind subconsciously and annoyingly drifted back to Brandon. The chapters of him that were locked up in my heart were too heavy to open, too dark a place to visit. He was one book I never wanted to revisit, but I kept finding myself helplessly falling back to that place, to that shelf in my heart where he was kept, to that old, old, library that contained all the books I wanted to read, with a big shelf containing the stories of Brandon.

Why was he here? Why was he popping in and out of my head? Well, maybe never out, but I just have to keep my words rhyming. But why the hell did he have to stay sated all day in my mind, with deep grey eyes staring intently at me from my mind’s eye? Why did everything seem to be grey and why did everywhere seem to have the same fragrance with his body wash?

Even the pillows in my room, the flowers in their bloom, the garden’s spices and the teddy’s axis all seemed to smell like him. For a bit, I think I’ve been hallucinating. I see a shadow of him lurking in the corners, almost enmeshed in the darkness, but when I turn my eyes to see him properly, he suddenly fades back into the black hues of the shadows, and I am left alone with my thoughts, my confusion and astonishment as to how he can be here one minute and the other, he is gone.

Like the mist, he keeps fading away when I think I’ve finally caught him. Deep down, I want to touch him. I feel it. I want to be near him, sniffing in the sweetness of his fragrance, gulping down the etherealness of his grey eyes, seeping in every part of him, studying his features like a book, going through him like a course in school, but at least, never graduate from him. I never want to. I'd rather be in his college, studying my Brandon’s degree and never graduate. Or maybe, work on his site - just freelance him, and never retire. Who would even retire when it was Brandon?

Gosh! What was even wrong with me? How did he get into my head? Why do I miss him so much? He’s so annoying. He just finds a way to appear in my dreams, fill my senses and pull at the strings of my heart. Can I even help it? Why am I thinking about him so much?

I mentally facepalm myself in a berating way as I try to get my mind off him. I wonder if he’s thinking so much about me in the same way, or probably, he is busy with work, creeping employees out and stripping women with proposals. Or perhaps, hiding some dagger behind his bed and maybe, hurting himself, deepening the already open scar on his chest and not even sparing a chance to think about me. Ugh!

But why did I care? Why was he here, occupying all the space in my mind? Filling my illusions, stealing into my reality and deluding me out of this world into a place of wild and vain fantasies where we are both na…

“Hola! Hola! Hola!” my dad called as he waved his hands in front of me to pull me back into reality. Oh what Brandon does to me!

Jeez! Was I thinking all of that right beside dad? Thank God our hearts are shielded from the human eyes, else I would be more embarrassed than I am now.

“Don’t worry about mom… she’s just worried about you, that’s all. She almost nagged my head out while you were away.” he complained with a sulky expression and I couldn’t help but laugh. He laughed a little too, quietly, thoughtfully. He seemed a bit worried too, but he tried not to show it, but it lurked there stubbornly, somewhere around the corner of his eyes.

“Dad,” I called softly as my eyes twinkled with a bit of curiosity.

“Yes, waffle?” he turned to look at me with his lovely hazel eyes gleaming against the light.

“Do you love mom?” Well, that was a very weird question to ask. I had never asked him such questions before and I had no idea why I did now. Why was I asking him if he loved my mom or not when I could clearly see that he loved her?

“Mmm…” he pursed his lips thoughtfully, “are you in love with someone?” he asked instead and I could feel my skin melt off my bones as I burned red with embarrassment. How could he tell just by looking at me? But I wasn’t in love… was I?

Oh, what Brandon does to me.

I shook my head forcefully in response to his question. How could I accept being in love? I was just thinking about him a lot lately and it was only normal to do so since I might be a little worried that his untreated wound might get worse.

“But he has Lucavo watching over him!” my mind chided and I mentally facepalmed myself. Of course he had Lucavo. What was I even thinking?

“Well,” my dad said again with that same thoughtful expression on his face, distracting me from my own thoughts, “let’s just put it this way. I love her so much that I wish for a second life to love her again… cos, just a lifetime would never be enough to love her. And she seemed to understand the gist, so she gave me a mini her, and that mini her is my waffle sitting right here beside me, and she became a continuation of the love I have for Mrs. Carla;” he smiled a little with sincerity in his eyes, “the second life I ever wished for.”

“Aww,” I muttered tearfully as I hugged him tightly. I felt touched by his words and I could feel the emotions form a brimming pool in my eyes ready to pour down in torrents. How could he love mom so much? Mom was indeed one lucky woman, can I ever get so lucky?

Gosh, why have I been getting so emotional about little things?

“Hey waffle,” my dad called sweetly as he hugged me back and patted my back with his other hand, “if you truly love someone, don’t be afraid to be with him. Love might never be an easy ride, but it’s worth it in the end. Just choose someone you wanna laugh with, cry with, argue with, reconcile, play, fight, misunderstand, understand, grow and learn with for a lifetime. It’s important to know that whoever you’re choosing is either the right or wrong person for you.” he said lovingly as he continued to pat my back. His softness and kindness were just overwhelming and it made the tears that had been hiding at the back of my eyes finally find its way to my face. I cried and sobbed until to a point, I didn’t even know why I was crying, yet he held me there still, patting my back, comforting me until I had cried to my satisfaction.

“You need more time to let it out? I have all day.” he said humorously and we both laughed, detangling from our long over glued hug.

“Crying time is over. Now is waffle time!” He announced happily, grinning widely at me, and I smiled back shyly at him.

“Yeah, waffle time.” I said, savouring the taste of the delicious waffles he handed me.