Part Three : The Stranger
[Monday: 5th January 2005: 11.50pm]
Amidst her sub consciousness, Grace thought she heard someone calling her name but she was reluctant to acknowledge it. It was a good fifteen minutes later before she pulled herself out of bed and stumbled out into the living room.
“Grace? What the…are you okay?”
“Amanda?”
—
For the next hour, Amanda fussed over her. She made her sit down at the kitchen counter while she made her a mug of hot cocoa, all the while showering her with soothing words.
Grace watched as Amanda moved about the kitchen and realized she had never felt more detached in her life.
“I can take a few days off to accompany you if you want. We could even go on a trip! Or you can always visit your parents in Hong Kong. Take a good, long break. You deserve it. You—“
“Amanda?”
She stopped and turned around, a tender smile on her face. “Hmm?”
“It hurts.”
Amanda swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. Carrying the mug of steaming cocoa, she took the seat beside Grace. Then gently, she pulled her into her arms and hugged her tightly. “You can cry if you want to. I won’t tell. I promise.”
[Tuesday: 6th January 2005: 9.00am]
The second she woke up, Grace could feel the migraine eating into the soft tissues of her temple, immobilizing her momentarily while she waited for the pain to pass. Wincing in pain, she walked into her bathroom and in the mirror, she saw herself—the red, puffy eyes and the parched lips.
She looked like she has just been run over by a truck. Twice.
She stared at herself and felt it all at once: the pity, the pain, the sorrow.
Disgusted with herself, she cleaned and scrubbed herself diligently until she was sure she looked and felt human again before dressing up for work. It was then she saw the note on her headrest that Amanda had written before she left telling her that she’d taken the day off for her.
She managed a smile. Good ole’ Amanda.
Gratefully, she changed out of her work clothes and headed to the kitchen to make some breakfast. She was determined to get the subject of her distress out of her mind; at least to get through the day before throwing herself back into work in the week to come.
She had just emptied the last of the coffee powder into the coffee machine when her doorbell rang.
Grace dragged herself to the door and looked through the peephole but something seemed to be obscuring her view. This somebody was obviously intentionally hiding from her. She mentally ran down her list of possible suspects but all she could conclude was that it couldn’t be Ian or Silver.
She threw open the door and was immediately bombarded by a bouquet of daisies and then she was being pulled into a crushing embrace.
She panicked. “Let go of me, you pervert!”
“Is this how you greet an old friend?”
She blinked as the bouquet disappeared and in its place stood a dashing young man named…”Oliver?”
He gave her a beaming lop-sided grin. “Hello Grace.”
“I can’t believe it’s really you!” Grace was slightly taken back by how much Oliver had changed. The last time they met, it was six years ago when he was still a gawky, awkward pimpled-face student. Now he has hair! And he was so much taller and darker!
Thankfully, he still had that wide captivating smile and those warm chocolate brown eyes.
Grace took a moment to wonder if he was still as in love with her as he was six years ago.
He grinned. “It’s me alright.” Then shifting his weight, he lamented. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Oh!” Grace laughed. “I’m sorry. Please come in.” She opened the door wider for him to step in.
“So how have you been, Grace?” He asked as he sat down on the couch and Grace took the space beside him after pouring him and herself each a cup of steaming coffee. “You don’t look too good.” He leaned closer as he inspected her. “You look like you’ve been crying.” His voice had softened evidently.
She avoided his eyes and attempted to change the subject. “So what are you doing back here? Last I heard, you were in Italy.” She almost laughed at herself. What was she trying to do? She sure didn’t feel as bright as she sounded.
Oliver gave her a long hard look, which Grace felt was alarmingly intimate, before going along with her. “I was. I came back to gather some information for a story and then I’m off again.”
Grace nodded. Like her, Oliver was a writer. Only he chose to leave a long time ago to pursue something bigger. Now, he’s working for The Reuters and has the world in his palm. “How long will you be staying?”
Oliver shrugged. “A few days. A week, at most.” Grace felt her heart drop to her feet. “That soon?”
His heart did a little dance as he nodded. He saw her face drop and heard the disappointment in her voice. Anything that was something was a chance that Grace might finally be feeling for him. It marveled him that after all these years, the sight of her still takes his breath away. And him, well, he still feels like a lovesick schoolboy around her.
Suddenly, the phone rang and Grace jumped. She froze as it continued ringing. Before she could respond, Oliver had already answered it.
“It’s for you.” He passed the headset to her, his tone disapproving. “Some guy. Ian.”
Grace shook her head. No, she mouthed. I’m not in. Oliver gave her a questioning look but obligingly did as she asked. “She’s not in. Do you want to leave a message?”
A second later, he passed her the headset again. “He says if you don’t pick up, he’s coming around the house.” He hushed and then mouthed to her, We don’t want that, do we?
Her heartbeat raced and she had to take a deep breath. Warily, she took the phone. “Ian?”
“Grace? Jesus. Where have you been? I’ve been calling all of yesterday.” His words were forceful but his voice, like always, was calm and composed. He didn’t ask about the man in her house.
Grace couldn’t trust herself to speak but still she did. “I have been…busy.”
“That’s good. I thought you were ill.” There was relief in his voice and Grace felt the pit of her stomach tightening. Ian had never cared to ask more than once. “Did Silver tell you? About the wedding?”
She felt it again—the painful pang in her guts. “Yes.” She managed.
Grace held her breath as Ian tactlessly continued about the plans of the wedding, completely unaware of her demise. She pulled the headset an inch from her ears and waited for it to end.
Oliver watched as she took the call. Ian, was it? He remembers that name.
The pain on her face was undeniable and it broke his heart. If he had his way, he’ll never want to see that look of sorrow in her eyes again.
Related Entries:
Somebody Part 1
Somebody Part 2
Somebody Part 4
