Knock. Knock. Knock.
She woke up with a start. Instantly, she was frantic at being pulled out from a deep state of slumber, and from one of her blissful walks in those warm, pleasant meadows with his hand entwined in hers. She sighed, rubbing sleep off her eyes.
“Good morning, love,” she mumbled, flexing her arm over to the other side of the bed. Empty.
She sat up, no longer agitated or sleepy. Gloom gripped her. He had left, again. She had woken up to an empty bed, again. He had left again, in spite of being fully aware of how much she hated waking up to his absence. It tore her insides, clawed at her heart and shoved her thoughts back to that baleful day when he’d done this for the first time.
She clenched her eyes shut, gulping back the emotional knot forming in her throat. His presence, although there, yet hadn’t been exactly the same in her life ever since. He’d been strangely distant, a ridiculous story-teller all the time, and secretive. Over that, his sudden disappearances had become a new involvement in the routine. And she quite hated the way he had begun to force her into believing the stupid tales he told her, as if she were a kid of four.
To sum it up, that particular day had been the initiator of her very baneful current life. It had ignited flames of agony in her, and she had burnt ever since; never ceasing to simmer, nor ever fully turning to ash.
“Marysse, are you awake?”
The call from across the door grabbed her attention. With a groan, she recognised the voice. Jacob.
“No, I’m asleep Jake. Come back later,” she yelled back.
For a few moments, the ruffling sounds stopped. She had almost reached the conclusion that he had left, when he spoke up again. Silly of me, she thought, I should know his daft insistence nature better after all these years.
“Please, Marysse, just let me see you for once.” He was almost pleading, “I promise I shall not disturb you for a long time hence. It has been more than a month since you came out last… listen to me this once, please!”
Impossibly frustrated, Marysse huffed in annoyance.
“Have you totally forgotten that you ain’t dealing with a five-years-old?”
She rolled her eyes, partial anger at his missing lover directed over the poor pleader on the other side of the door. Or not so poor actually, she thought with a groan.
There was another prolonged pause. But this time, Marysse was aware that he’d been thinking and plotting his next convincing speech-let. Speech-let, well, were those mini-speeches he had developed a habit of delivering whenever she won’t open the door for him.
Grabbing the opportunity, she slipped off the bed and exited the room to the balcony; tip toeing her way out. Once out, she hastily shut the rear door behind her and took a deep breath of relief.
She leant over the banister and closed her eyes, absorbing the morning sun’s mild warmth. Not a minute passed before her thoughts were dragged back to the louder hammering on the front door that had maneuvered itself past the barrier of the second door, and had managed to infiltrate her ears.
Jacob was becoming more infuriating with each visit, she realised. His nagging and taunts were increasing exponentially, and, though she hadn’t waited long enough to listen today, she was certain that his accusations on her mental unfitness must’ve increased in a similar fashion too. He was her childhood best friend, and despite, the biggest mocker in her life. Even her neighbors, or in fact her damned excuse for a landlady for that matter, didn’t throw insults on her the way he did. And her brain’s some imaginary illness – probably his self-made thingy – excelled as his favourite.
She was having to live up with his torturous meetings, ever since Daren had left her for the first time ever. Daren Rigsby, her fiance whom she was to marry last Christmas, had been living in with her ever since they’d gotten engaged. Though she had always doubted Jacob for having a thing for her, his cold behaviour towards the entire affair had thrown her off guard. And the even more drastically pathetic changes in his attitude had begun since that night when Daren had left her…
Yeah, yeah, she thought a lot about the same thing and repeatedly so, alright. But she couldn’t get herself to not to. She was always found plunged into brainstorming on details of all the things that had happened that October night. She sat contemplating what could have gone so awful between Daren and Jacob, that her best friend had turned so awkward and irritating hence. For sure, her concerns about Jacob’s behaviour drove her into these activities, but the fact that she could think of nothing else in those cursed moments when Daren left her again, was responsible to some extent too. Like this pretty morning.
That brought her quickly back to the present. Absently, she stroked her wrist, bumping across an irregular ridge planted over the otherwise smooth expanse. Frowning, she looked away from staring into space down to notice the maroon gash. She gasped, as her lost memory returned.
“Oh, no.” She shut her eyes, exasperated. “I’m sorry Daren,” she whispered, “about last night. I promise to keep my mind in place. Don’t be mad at me… please.”
A throaty, male chuckle disturbed her eardrums. With her spirits springing up, she twisted on her heels and marched back into the room. There, on the bed, in all his glory, sat a smugly smiling Daren Rigsby.
She beamed a full smile, before hopping into his embrace.
“I’m so, so sorry about last night,” she mumbled against his shoulder. “I won’t try to kiss you, ever again.”
She felt his body stiffening. She sighed. She knew he had been angry. She was on her way of making another attempt at coaxing him, when his arms came to loop around her.
“You shouldn’t,” he spoke into her raven curls. “But I forgive you.”
She pulled back, looking at him with lively, surprised topaz eyes.
He smiled then, and her stomach did a flip.
“Of course, Marysse, what else if not?”
Showcasing the perfection of her row of teeth, she engulfed him in another embrace. His soft giggles and bouncing torso soothed her into extreme contentment. He planted a soft kiss against her temple, before seating her properly beside him in the bed.
“And” – she looked up at him with grave, mirthless eyes – “don’t leave me again, please.”
“Not if you decide to keep on thinking that I’m here to stay. Just keep your thoughts off me sometime, and try bringing yourself to – ”
She flinched. He was back to telling her stories.
“No,” she whined, cutting him off. “Don’t give me rubbish, Daren, please. I don’t believe these stupid tales, and you know that, I’ve told you! I said I won’t pounce on you, but that doesn’t mean I’m stopping to love you.” His mouth opened to protest, but she clamped her palm against it. “And nor does it mean that I’m willing to let go of your presence in my life.” Her voice had reduced to a whisper. “You will have to be here with me, for me, even if you no longer want to marry me.”
He sighed in defeat, but she didn’t look up at him. She’d never looked into his blue orbs which did not hold affection for her. And she couldn’t get herself to do that now.
He put a finger below her chin then, tilting her face up to make her look into his eyes. Her eyes shone a brighter shade of gold – if that was even possible – when she witnessed the usual ounce of love and adoration, colored in blue, looking back at her. He smiled.
“I love you, Marysse.” She gasped, her breath lodging in her throat, as she involuntarily waited for him to deny the second half of her musing. Only that that never happened. “But I won’t marry you. I just… I can’t.” He raked a hand through his hair, as she took a breath to ease her aching throat. “Bloody hell, Marysse, I can’t believe I’m having to tell you this! Y – you know I’m not here. You’re aware that I would leave the moment you decide that you don’t need me…”
He trailed off as she twisted in her spot to catch him in another crushing hug.
“Ane that is never happening,” she mumbled against his chest. “I would always need you, Daren.”
He tutted, but embraced her back nevertheless.
She abruptly pulled back, as another memory came rushing. Taking a breath, she narrowed her eyes at him.
“Another thing.” She pulled her wounded wrist before his face, “Dare if you turn offensive, ever again!”
His eyes widened at the browning mark which was an obvious knife injury.
“I’m sorry,” he gushed, “I didn’t know it would be that bad… Does it-does it hurt?”
She pulled her hand back, before he could touch the wound. Looking at him from under her lashes, she mumbled, “Not more than you leaving me alone.”
Jacob Wright barged out even before the echo of elevator’s stopping ‘ding’ could subside. Long strides taken quickly, and he stood at the end of the corridor facing the colossal mahogany door. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He was here, before the door of the only office on the floor, without an appointment. The exclusion was tell-tale of the high significance of the authority, and requirement of appointments. But then, he was told that he could always come around at emergencies. And if all what he had heard roday didn’t call for an emergency, he couldn’t decide what would.
He struck the knuckles of his arched left hand’s fingers twice, beneath the golden name plate.
‘Dr Amelia Brown’.
He waited, impatiently tapping his foot against the marbled floor. The insides of the office were draped with wooden flooring, he recalled. He had been here twice. Both the times, she had come along. All other privately done discussions were commenced over the phone. And he preferred it that way, really. He was totally not a huge supporter of face-to-face quarrels. Quarrels, yes. The old lady occupying the office was intelligent, of course, but, a woman after all. Except Marysse, he was certain he hadn’t met a female in his life whom he had conversed with for more than five minutes, without either party getting riled up.
He sighed. All his concerns came back rushing. How much did he…
His thoughts were disturbed by the irritated yells reverberating on the other side of the door. His brows knitted in thought. Amelia was in a bad mood? He couldn’t have visited at a worse time.
Remember your emergency, he thought to himself, and don’t lose your calm before her.
Then, after almost five seconds, as per his expectations, the door was clicked open. He politely smiled at the petite blonde’s greeting. He mentally pitied the girl who seemed younger than him. Her boss was a lost cause, and she could do nothing but hear the hag’s ramblings.
Stepping in, his gaze collided with the ageing brunette’s spectacled one. Her grey eyes were as silent as ever; never giving out any ounce of what went about in her head. And he could care less.
But just the next instant, he noticed something cross them. It was real quick, and he couldn’t point out the exact emotion it portrayed. But it had seemed something like relief. Something like, if fear was laced in her eyes earlier, there was lesser of it now.
“It’s just you, Jacob,” the old woman sighed.
Definetly relief, Jacob thought.
“Why, Doctor, how many do invade your office without appointment?” He couldn’t help the retort, but did everything to make it sound as respectable as possible.
“I’ve caught a terrible cold and flu, Jacob, and I don’t fancy straining my brain in bringing up new snide remarks.” She massaged her temples. “Let’s get on with business, because it has got to be some emergency that you are visiting.”
Jacob released a hefty breath. Being reminded of ’emergency’ had been enough for his brain to draw a blank. He simply nodded before walking over to the lady’s gigantic desk. Dropping ungracefully into one of her plush chairs, he rubbed a hand across his face.
“Is everything okay?”
He looked up to find the Doctor’s slightly wrinkled face crumpling further as she squinted at him.
He shook his head.
“Not quite. I guess she is worsening as Christmas is nearing.” At her raised eyebrows, he continued, “She didn’t open the door for me, today. And later, I heard her speaking. I mean, she wasn’t talking to herself, of course. I heard tidbits of the conversation. She was definitely not talking to herself, at least.” He paused to take a breath. “I think all of her…”
He closed his mouth as Amelia raised her palm to stop him.
“What is wrong with her, is not your zone to ponder over.” He rolled his eyes, but she unabashedly continued in her rehearsed, firm tone. “And if she actually was talking to someone – other than herself, of course – then I’m supposing it’s time to pay her another visit, Jacob.”
She looked expectantly at him, her chin rested against her fist, when he seemed to mull things over for longer than necessary.
His head bobbed in approval.
“If you say so, then alright.” He got up, the pensive look never leaving his face. “But I wouldn’t be giving you that ‘private time’ you demand of every time. I need to be with her, when she is talked to.”
Amelia immediately scowled.
“I’ll see you in the evening, Mr Wright.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her formal usage of his name. But he could care less. Shrugging, he turned to leave. Pausing by the doorway, he called out.
“I owe you a lot, Doctor. I hope you realise that.” Giving the flabbergasted lady a tight smile, he walked out of the office.
Amelia blinked. Once. Then twice. Turning her gaze to her secretary, she raised her brows in question.
The young girl was as flustered as her boss.
“B – boss,” she began, “you have four appointments for the day. How do we manage?”
Amelia shut her gaping mouth. As it dawned upon her, she winced. The case she had so happily accepted, about an year ago, was causing a considerably huge wreck in her usual working. And not to mention the losses she was facing, cancelling appointments with the most important of her clients. But then, commitment came first.
“No, Claire, this isn’t happening,” She removed her specs and rubbed the heels of her palms over her eyes.
The young secretary frowned.
“I’m sorry, what is not happening, boss?”
Amelia waved a dismissive hand.
“Never mind. Just get the most necessary one amongst these up the line, and postpone the rest three for the Saturday.” If the younger female was bothered by such an open slaughter of her supposedly to-be-peacefully-spent weekend, she didn’t show it. “I wish to leave as soon as possible.”
The girl obediently nodded, before rushing off to her own desk in the adjacent mini-room.
The door was being banged at, yet again. Marysse looked over at her lover, gallantly perched upon the top most shelf of her book rack. She frowned.
“I don’t want to see Jake.”
He chuckled, his shoulders bouncing slightly.
“You know you do, sweetness.”
“And what makes you think that, again?”
He sighed tiredly.
“Don’t you think this line of conversation between us has gotten old?”
She shook her head with a pout.
“No. Not until you get the following facts clear in your head.” Crossing arms across her chest she tilted her chin up, stubbornly. “I love you, and Jake is my best friend. I would never fall for him, however bad you try convincing me. In fact, I love you, period! What does actually matter, beyond that?!”
He smiled that ever so perfect smile of his.
“And I, you.” Her eyes burned, then. Maybe they were tears…maybe not. “But he does too. And he is a more reasonable choice, because I am not even real – ”
“Enough!” She hopped off her bed, her fists tightly clenched at her sides. “I thought I’d made it pretty clear this morning, that I do not wish to hear any of this filth again. Don’t you get it?” she hissed the last four words through gritted teeth.
He let out another tired sigh.
“You know I can’t stop this, princess. You’re well aware of what I am, and only your mind is capable – ”
“NO!” Tears pooled into her eyes as she yelled through shut teeth. “My brain has got nothing to do with this. You are with me, and for real!”
“What?” she yelled at his face, only to realise the very next moment that the call hadn’t come from him. Scowling at the door, she massaged her forehead. “Is that you, Jake?” She was perfectly aware it was him, nevertheless.
“Yes,” The voice – Jacob’s – responded.
She focussed back on her lover.
“Are you done being a jerk?”
Daren gave her a sad smile.
“Sooner or later, you will have to accept what is true, love. And I am no longer your truth sweetness, but Jacob – ”
“Daren, stop!” She gasped, her mouth left agape in apprehension. How dare he? She was angered, and it wasn’t governed by agony this time. Balling her hands – that had unclenched with her shock – back into fists, she took a daring step towards the book rack. “How dare you dictate me? Do you not see how badly do I need you in my life? Are you simply trying to escape me by projecting Jake into my face?”
Daren frowned, hurt lacing his expressions.
“No, Marysse, you know I’d never do that! I just want you to come in terms with reality, ‘cause this” – he gestured to his entire form – “is not healthy,” he told her sharply.
Marysse stumbled a few steps back.
“A – a – are you telling me that you,” she stuttered, pointing a shaky finger in his direction, “are unhealthy for me?”
Daren’s stance eased as she looked at his lover’s brimming eyes.
“Not me.” He shook his head. “But my presence, dear. My presence like this – that is unhealthy for you, yes.”
She was shaking her head fervently. What did the man think of himself? Was she sick for wanting the presence of love of her life? Was she insane for continuing to love him in spite of him clarifying that e didn’t wish to marry her? Was she mentally ill for wishing happiness?
She had enough. She wasn’t weak -never had been. And no individual had the right of making her feel so, lover or not.
“You know what?” She eyed him, eerily calm. “I guess you’re right. I should deal with my shit, without your involvement.”
He raised a skeptical brow.
“And what is that supposed – ”
“Get out,” she cut him, looking away.
“I’m sorry, what?”
She turned her sharp glare at him.
“Get. Out,” she bit, seething.
He nodded, brows furrowed in thought.
“Are you certain you wouldn’t need me again? I might never come back, Marysse.”
No, she wanted to tell him, my wrath is getting the better of me, don’t listen to this crap and please stay; you know I won’t survive a day without you.
But she said none of it. Because as it was, her wrath was getting the better of her.
“Yes,” she hissed.
“Come on Marysse, open up now!”
She looked over at the door, contemplating warding Jacob off like the previous time this morning, but deciding otherwise. Jacob had been her best buddy since longer than she could actually recall, and though she would never admit to Daren, she needed her best friend in her life, as well. Especially now, when she was fuming like a volcano. Reaching over, she pulled the door open.
Gallons of relief washed over Jacob as he took in Marysse’ clean, dressed appearance. Many a times, he had witnessed her coiled in foetal position on her bed, not bathed since more than a week. And at most of those occasions, he had broken the door open.
“Jake.” Her brows were scrunched, though a corner of her lip was tugging up.
He grabbed the opportunity to give her the brightest smile he could manage.
“Good evening, Mary!”
She rolled her eyes and walked back to the bed, darting a casual, inconspicuous glance over to the top shelf. He was gone. She felt a lump forming in her throat.
Jacob knew what her gesture of walking back meant. Ignoring her reaction, he marvelled at having gotten the door opened to him. He ushered Amelia Brown along.
“Whatever it is, finish off soon. I’m rather rough through dealing with his absence,” Marysse spoke over her shoulder. Turning her face to a side, she added, “And I expect you to at least inform me if I have visitors. Given that seeking permission is something just out of question for you.”
Amelia noticed the exchange with alert eyes. She decided against beating around the bush, and grabbed the topic by the throat.
“Whose absence do you mention of, Marysse?”
Jacob noticed her shoulders tightening, and knew of her discomfort in spite of her facing away from him.
Marysse turned around with narrowed eyes, which slightly widened as they fell on the doctor.
“Amelia?” She was evidently surprised. “What brings you back?”
She was getting defensive, and Jacob was openly dreading it. Her raised defences were a curse. Nothing in world was capable of penetrating through them, and talking to her about what had been going on, was important at this point.
“Jacob told me you didn’t open the door for him, this morning.” Amelia clearly avoided Marysse’ question. But then, because she was the doctor and not the other way round, she was supposed to question, and not the other way round. “Why?”
“I didn’t feel like it. What’s it with you?”
Amelia shook her head, when Jacob her an apologetic smile for Marysse’ arrogance.
“I just wanted to see an old friend, Marysse. Am I denied that?”
Marysse’ composure relaxed, and Jacob breathed a sigh of relief.
“Of course not, Amelia. I’m sorry about this rudeness; I’m in a bad mood actually.”
Amelia cocked a brow. Giving Jacob a meaningful look, she sat on a vacant chair by the bed Marysse was now seated on.
“Bad mood? Why so?”
Marysse furrowed her brows for a moment before evenly meeting Amelia’s eyes.
“I had a fight with Daren.”
Daren. Daren. Daren.
The name ricocheted in his head. Jacob put in all of the patience he could fathom, to not spill at Marysse’ face what was at the tip of his tongue. He bit it, as a measure.
“Daren?” Amelia calmly asked. At Marysse’ hum of approval, she nodded. “What about?”
Jacob was contemplating leaving the room. And he was sorting ways of murdering Amelia Brown, without driving suspicion. The conversation had drifted to unbelievable stupidity. Jacob couldn’t help mentally questioning the authority who might have passed Amelia as a psychiatrist. He thought of excusing himself out again, when obvious gloom spread over Marysse’ face.
“Please, Amelia, can we not discuss it?” she asked in a meek voice.
“Very well. How is your wound on the stomach?”
“It’s good. Almost completely healed.”
Amelia’s eyes briefly met Jacob’s over her shoulder before she put up her next question.
“Did you finally remember how you got the bruise?”
Marysse’ face contorted into something between confusion and pensive.
“It was him,” she whispered, making the blonde gasp. “And last night, he did this.” She produced her left hand before Amelia, allowing her to examine the long, broad, brown embossment of dried blood.
“What the hell, Marysse!” Jacob couldn’t help the series of swear words that followed. The next moment, he was kneeling on the floor by her side. “Why did you do this?” His voice was a whisper, out of surprise laced with concern.
Marysse scowled, eying him as if he was the most foolish person she had ever seen.
“Are you daft?” she deadpanned, making his eyebrows shoot up in confusion. She shook her head, clearly disappointed in him. “Daren did this, Jake, are you actually daft?”
Jacob’s jaw clenched, involuntarily. He met Amelia’s gaze. Amelia gulped. The warning was clear in his eyes. However she would abide by her responsibility and keep her frustration in check, she couldn’t help agreeing with Jacob’s ire. The man was suffering.
“Why did he do it, Marysse?” She kept a comforting hand over Marysse’ knee.
Marysse sighed, raking fingers through her untamed mass of black curls.
“I was getting more intimate than necessary.”
Jacob frowned. What was that supposed to mean? He looked at Amelia again.
“Why exactly, dear?” Jacob’s brows knitted closer when Amelia didn’t voice out what was obvious. He was back to questioning her being a psychiatrist.
Marysse’ gaze was distant when she took a deep breath. Jacob mentally braced herself for the next set of rubbish to come. But what she said caught him off guard, making him connect gaze with the doctor immediately.
“He wants to go away from me.” Amelia held Jacob’s shocked gaze for a fleeting moment before Marysse continued, “And he wants that, in spite of loving me.”
Amelia sighed. The confusion on Jacob’s face was a stark proof that he didn’t, in the least, understand the significance of what Marysse had just told them.
“And what do you want?”
Marysse gave her the look she’d done to Jacob, earlier. The one screaming ‘are-you-stupid?’.
“I, of course, want him to stay!” she snapped, making Jacob huff in agitation. “I want him to marry me!”
Jacob felt and Amelia heard his patience break.
“Shut up,” he growled, startling Marysse. “Fucking shut up about this imaginative shit of yours, Marysse!” He was screaming, now, at a horrified Marysse and an equally helpless Amelia. “You can not make him stay, ’cause he’s already gone – a year ago at that. And you cannot marry him, because he’s dead, Marysse Strop!”
Amelia gasped. Jacob thought he’d seen tears rolling down Marysse’ face before he’d padded off.
Amelia had been furious. Marysse’ brain had been making an exceedingly amazing progress, with all of her medication working along with her therapies. But Jacob had almost ruined it.
Marysse had been unconscious for fat nine hours. When she had come, Daren’s name had been the first thing leaving her mouth.
Amelia had felt Marysse’ love for Daren all through the year, as she had treated her. But she could never bring herself to overlook Jacob’s crazy concern and obvious affection for his best friend, that didn’t seem too much platonic to Amelia.
Amelia had been convinced of Marysse’ recovery as soon as she had broken into wails, in tears as soon as she woke up from the unconscious state. Furthermore, Marysse had confessed to her that she was partially aware of her schizophrenia all this ee. She had told Amelia that she stuck to her beliefs because she couldn’t open her eyes to the day when she wouldn’t have Daren in her life. Amelia had consoled her, then. she had been loving elder sister, and not a doctor.
As Amelia sat back in the lush revolving chair if her office, sipping tea, she couldn’t help being amused.
Marysse Strop’s recovery had been delayed due to ignorance. Marysse’ schizophrenia had developed out if denial, nit mental injury. she had been greatly disturbed – devastated, even – by her fiance’s death. And in that shock, she had resorted to complete denial of the misery.
She had hallucinations of Daren. She had delusions that were terrific. One major amongst them was her injuries. She would hurt herself at some or the other place, with some or the other tool, every other night. And the next morning, she convinced herself that Daren had hurt her for some or the other self-made reason behind their quarrels, which never happened.
Amelia kept her cup down, smiling to herself, widely amused.
In all what they did, none had ever asked Marysse to forget about Daren And move on. And it was as if Marysse’ brain had been waiting for that particular push.
Jacob’s raw statement had done the deed; applying the appropriate pressure. The stating of naked truth at her face, had made Marysse’ protective shell of denial crumple.
And to treat him for the job done, Amelia had devised Jacob a plan; one with long-term benefit for both the youngsters.
Marysse was torn.
She, in spite of fully well understanding the state her brain had been, missed Daren’s presence.
It was the Christmas morning. Seven days had gone since the episode with Amelia and Jacob; and her so-called recovery. She had woken up to find a gift seated at the foot of her bed. She was caressing it in her hands, now.
She could’ve sworn she’d never seen something so pure, so strengthening, so vast and so tiny, so fragile at the same time. She looked down at the ceramic baby-Jesus. He smiled back at her, his angel-wings fluttering in her peripheral vision. She smiled. Her mind actually had a thing if doing tricks at her. But she was no longer falling for them, now.
Keeping the statue safely at her bedside table, she got off the bed. She came out into the balcony, resting herself against the banister. One full year had gone since she lost Daren.
It was when she had to pull in an extra breath, that she realised she had been weeping. All she wanted to do today, was snuggle into her bed and weep herself into unconsciousness. But, there were plans she had to abide by.
Jacob had asked her out.
She rubbed her glove clad hands across her face. She had been appalled at first. Without so much as a response, she had seen him off when he visited to invite her for a dinner with him. Then Amelia had rung up, telling her that she had been the one who suggested this to Jacob, and that Marysse wasn’t needed to be mad at him for something he was reluctant at doing.
And she was sulking now. All what Jacob had faced and gone through for her, a year-long, wasn’t normal. She owed him much more than how much she accepted she did. He was her best friend and she would hurt herself before breaking his heart. But, before she could make up her mind about ringing him up, Daren’s handsome smiling face invaded her thoughts. She still saw the same amount of love in those blue eyes when they crossed her thoughts. She could do anything but cheat on those pair of sparkling sapphire.
“You aren’t cheating on me, sweetness.”
She almost swayed with nausea, as the oh-so-familiar drawl fell into her ears.
She spun on her heels, but saw no one. Dashing into the room, she searched for any evidence, in vain. Blaming it to be another trick of her sick brain, she dropped onto the bed.
“I have loved you and will always do. but you’ll have to move on, for real, Marysse, if you need this to end for once and for all.”
Gasping, she looked about the room again. No one.
“Stop searching for me that far. Look closer. Nearer. Look into yourself, not around.” Tears had begun streaming down her face again.
“I love you, Daren,” she whispered, dejected.
“Go out with him, Marysse. Free me. I need you to be happy, before I can rest back in peace. I’m tired, Marysse, give me my peace, please.”
Marysse again looked about herself, frantically. Defeated by the craving if looking at him one final time, she cried out, “Okay! I’ll meet up with him tonight, I promise. But let me see you once, please, Daren, let me hug you, let me feel your presence, one last time.”
“I’m always there with you, sweetness. Ever present – in your heart.”
Marysse could swear she saw the angel-Christ’s smile widen a bit. Her brain was definitely doing tricks to her today.