Chapter 29 Hope
HOPE
The moment my eyes open, a jolt of panic shoots through me, sharp and paralyzing, like ice in my veins. It’s the fact I’m waking up in a room that isn’t mine. Instantly, an emptiness settles into my bones as last night’s events roll back like a bad memory.
I slowly sit up and look around. The blinds are drawn to keep the sunlight out and the space is basked in quietness and darkness. It’s comforting in a lot of ways.
Heath isn’t here. I can’t feel his presence anywhere in his room. Strange, how I can now just know when he’s nearby. It’s like my body knows him in ways that I didn’t even know.
It’s because you love him.
The digital modern clock on his nightstand blinks in red digits. 10:17 am.
I haven’t slept this late in months. In fact, I haven’t slept peacefully in a while. For the first time, I didn’t wake up because of a bad nightmare or due to the shivers that’d come because of the cold winds drifting in through my broken windows.
Sliding off the bed, I carefully make it trying my best that there aren’t any wrinkles.
“Oh dear; you don’t have to do that.” A familiar voice speaks from behind me, making me jolt in shock.
I turn around and find Heath’s mother standing in the doorway, looking stunning in an expensive red dress that fits her perfectly. Paired with diamond jewelry and heels, she resembles a model.
No wonder Heath got all his looks from his mother. She’s elegant and beautiful.
“Uh, I don’t mind.” My whole body tightens seeing her.
Her gaze softens as she steps into the room and fills the air with a lightness, but the knot in my stomach does not uncurl.
“How did you sleep?” she asks.
My whole face turns red. “I slept… okay.”
She grins, as if she knows that I slept with her son in the same bed.
My blush deepens.
I wrap my arms around myself and smooth my arms to ease up the trembling nerves. Before she can speak, I say, “You don’t have to worry about anything. Nothing happened between us. I promise.”
A giggle bubbles out of her. “I’m not worried about that.” She turns serious. “I’m worried about you.”
My eyebrows pull together in a frown. “Why?”
Without saying a word, she takes a step forward and I immediately retreat—purely on instinct. The action doesn’t escape her attention and she stops.
My chest caves in from the anxiety that hits me like a train. Air knocks out of my lungs all because I can’t get my body under control. Especially, in front of someone I want to like me.
“I’m sorry,” she quickly moves back.
“No!” I whisper. “I-I don’t know why I moved. I—”
“Did it without thinking.”
I stare at her in shock. My fingers start fidgeting together.
“Why don’t you come downstairs and have breakfast with me?”
My stomach tightens. “Where’s Heath?”
She smiles. “He left early with Sebastian and Marie.”
I nod.
“Freshen up and come downstairs.” That sounds more like a command than a request.
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After washing my face with just water—Heath uses a charcoal one and charcoal doesn't suit me—and brushing my teeth with a spare toothbrush that I find in one of the drawers, I fix my hair and plaster on a smile.
I’m still dressed in sweatpants and trousers. Not an ideal outfit when you’re about to have breakfast with your boyfriend’s mother. I’m definitely not impressing her today which makes me feel sad. All I want is for her to like me.
Practicing a five minute breathing technique, I leave the room and walk down the hallway. I feel so anxious that I have to use the barrister to descend the stairs—the chances of me falling down are very high.
The closer I get, the more nervous I become.
I’ve met her before and I know she’s nice, but that was before she saw me getting carried away in her son’s arms and spending a night in his room.
I hope she knows we didn’t do anything and I’m not corrupting her son.
The only thing we’ve done is kissing and a little bit of touching. But only the upper half.
My cheeks flame up at the reminder and I press my cold palms against my cheeks to cool them down.
I desperately need the cloak of invisibility.
Since, I know, where the kitchen is, I find my way to it without getting lost in the maze of rooms.
I draw a deep breath before entering and see his mother near the stove. She’s frying pancakes and humming a song in a sweet melody.
I almost turn around to leave when she says, “Take a seat, Hope.”
I should’ve known. My chances of escaping awkward situations are always slim.
Walking towards the stool, I sit down and try to keep my back straight. I read somewhere that it oozes confidence
“Do you like maple syrup on your pancakes?” she asks.
“It’s fine,” I say.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Someone told me you only like chocolate.”
Butterflies soar in my stomach. “I do, but the maple syrup will be just fine.”
She stacks up three pancakes and places the plate in front of me.
Moving around, she places another plate that has a couple of sandwiches. Finally, she brings a plate of omelette with bacon, toast and blueberries on the side. She takes it as she sits across from me.
Grabbing the chocolate syrup she sets it next to my plate.
“You don’t need to stop being honest with me. If you like something, say it. Don’t be afraid of anyone.” She advises.
“Thank you,” I mumble.
“You certainly weren't afraid to speak your mind when you first met me. I admired that about you. I can see why Heath likes you.”
He loves me.
I almost blurt out, but realize it’s probably best if he tells her himself.
Grabbing the chocolate syrup, I pour it over my pancakes and take a small bite. They melt into my mouth and the sweet taste is heavenly. But they are not like my mother’s. She makes the best pancakes.
Just thinking about her swells my throat, making it hard to swallow the food.
The reminder of last night once again circles my head and my barriers grow weak at keeping my wandering thoughts locked.
“How are the pancakes? Do you not like them?” She asks. “I can get you something else.”
“No!” I shake my head. “No, they taste perfect.”
She frowns. “Then why do you look sad?”
“I… um…” she just said to be honest with her. What should I tell her? That I miss my mother and her pancakes. That I could have them right now if I was home but I’m not because she kicked me out.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” she adds, taking in my silence. “There are a lot of things that we can’t just share with someone we barely know, dear. Though I want to know you.”
“What do you want to know?”
She sighs. “There’s this one thing I want to know. I don’t know how to approach this subject without sounding intrusive.”
“It’s okay, you can say it.” I take a bite.
She takes a bite and chews painfully long before saying, “Do you often stay over here?”
“No, this is my first time.”
“But you hang out in his room?”
I nod.
She lets out a loud breath. “I’m just going to say it because I’m growing anxious.”
What she doesn’t know is, I’m growing anxious too.
“Are you kids having sex?”
My face pales.
Before I can answer, she continues. “Because if you are, you need to be safe. I can go with you to see a doctor and we can—”
“We’re not having sex, Mrs Travon,” I blurt.
She pauses. “Really?”
“Yes.” My face is brick red. “We’ve only kissed.”
“Okay,” she says slowly as if she doesn’t believe me.
“I promise. We’ve kissed a few times.”
Plenty of times.
Not that I’m going to say that.
“I see.” She takes a sip of the juice. “Okay, I believe you. All I’m saying is, be careful. At this age hormones get crazy and you do things you don’t want to.”
I nod, feeling too uncomfortable to have this conversation.
“Now, keep eating. It’s important to have a healthy breakfast and you need meat on your bones, dear.”
Silence fills the room as we both quietly finish off the food from our plates. When I take my last bite, she advances a bowl of blueberries and raspberries in my direction.
“Here, have a couple of these. They are good for health.”
I compliant and eat a few of them even though my stomach is full.
“Can I ask what happened that made you come here tonight?”
I freeze. The blood turns so cold in my veins that it resembles ice.
Her eyes bore into me, sympathy shimmering in them.
I knew this was coming. I knew I couldn’t avoid this conversation. But it still sends me underwater, drowning me in anxiety.
I open my mouth to answer her, but no words come out.
She stares me quietly, giving me all the time in the world.
Footsteps thump in the hallway. A second later, a man appears in the doorway. He’s tall, built and dressed in a fine, expensive suit. His face is sharp and carved with granite and his eyes are a shade of light gray that resembles graphite.
One look at him and I can tell it’s Heath father.
He enters the room and the atmosphere changes. It grows thick and heavy, making it hard to breathe. The air shifts with his strong demeanor that is quite intimidating.
His eyes lock on me and narrow a little.
A bead of sweat slithers down my back as those dark eyes study me. They remind me of my dad.
Without a single thought, I get off the stool and walk around the island to put distance between us. My hands start shaking and my chest moves rapidly with fast labored breaths.
A gasp fills the room and I glance at Heath’s mother who watches me with tearful eyes.
“I need to go,” I whisper but don’t move.
“No, wait!” She quickly stands up and looks behind her at the man whose face softens the second he sees her. “This is my husband. He is completely harmless.”
She drags him to the stool and makes him sit down while I press my back against the counter.
“Hope, dear. It’s fine,” she says.
My hands do not stop shaking.
“He is not going to hurt you. You’re safe here,” she says with conviction.
I look at him and find him still watching me. However, his gaze doesn’t seem like an arrow piercing into my skin anymore. It has lost its sharpness the second he sees his wife and the way she tries to mend this situation.
“I’m Carol and this is Xavier.”