"Why the long face, Elle?" My mom asked when we arrived at her house.
"Just tired." I went to my room and collapsed on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Hen wasn't Hen. He looked at me like I was an annoying fan begging for a selfie. I groaned and buried my face on a pillow. "I don't care anymore! If it's his way of moving on then I won't judge, I'll just give him space." I said to myself. Space?" I said to myself amusedly. I've been telling myself that I'm fine without him, that we were a one-time thing but the minute I saw him, I came crawling back. I like him but I chose not to be with him. I threw a pillow in frustration.
I woke up still confused about my feelings for Hen. I like visiting my mom because she cooks delicious food. It's unfortunate I didn't inherit that trait of her. I sat on a chair and started munching down a strip of bacon. I used to be so confident about my feelings until we meet again at the restaurant. Everything became blurry and I'm now second-guessing myself. I stopped myself from taking another bite and leaned back on my chair.
"Was the food from yesterday bad?" My mom was across from me. I was so occupied with my thoughts that I didn't notice her staring at me suspiciously.
"No." I smiled.
"I'm just bothered." I continued eating again. My mom stood up and went to the living room and returned with a ticket. She insisted that I should go to an art exhibit to calm my nerves. My mom is a retired art curator. Everyone in the art field sought her advice despite being retired for five years now. Which is why she still gets invitations from famous and emerging artists.
This is a good distraction. I needed this.
Evening came rather slowly. I was too excited, I guess. I stepped down from the taxi and proceeded my way to the showroom. The show centered in abstract arts. I stopped and stared at a beautiful painting. It was bursting with bright colors. I can feel varied emotions depicted by each color despite its brightness. Some might see it as happy but I think it's lonely. I chuckled. This painting perfectly represents my feelings toward Hen. This was supposed to be a distraction but it made me think about him anyway. I didn't bother looking at other paintings and continued staring at this artwork.
I was so engrossed with the painting when a voice called to me. 'There you are! Your mom told me about your attendance." I turned to my side and recognized the familiar face, it was Edna. She is my mom's successor, her protégé. I smiled politely at her but internally annoyed because she interrupted my brooding.
She held my hands. She looked excited. She led me out of the showroom. I asked her why she led me out but she didn't bother answering me. We stopped in front of a door.
"Edna, what are we doing here? I am confused. She unwrapped her hands on me and giggled like a little girl.
"This room is a private exhibition for VIPs. Your mom told you to surprise you. She said you'll like the paintings here better. I had a nice chat with the painting your mom told me about. A masterpiece!" Edna's eyes glistened and her cheeks flushed.
"I appreciate Edna but I have to go back. I really wanted to look at other paintings." I lied. I wanted to go back and stare at the one and only painting I'm interested in. Edna couldn't care less of my denial of her invitation. She opened the door halfway and pushed me in. I looked back at her but she had already closed the door.
There were only five paintings in the room, which hung on the wall across from me. The room was darker compared to the main showroom. The latter was bright and crowded but this room only has one person in it. I could barely see the person from here because the lights only focused on the paintings. As I walked forward, the backside of the only person in the room became clearer. I stopped. It was Hen, again. He is looking at the painting in the center.
There's a lump in my throat. My mind went black. My body automatically went towards him. I had no control. The next thing I did was unexpected but the moment I did it made me feel warm inside. I felt the familiarity of this feeling coursing through me. My arms wrapping his body and my body against his. It sent me back to our nostalgic cabin affair. Hen didn't flinch. He must have known it was me. I hope he's not wearing the look from yesterday.
"I thought I'd move on from you, I was wrong. I was too ahead of myself. I want to be in a relationship with you but I don't want anyone to know. I want to be always by your side but I can't bring myself to commit to you. I miss the feeling of your skin on mine, your kisses on my lips and the sensation I felt every time we're this close. I cannot take the risk to be with you but I badly, crazily and hopelessly want to. I wish I could. I wish things were different. I'd gladly be your secret affair if you let me!" I'm desperate.
He turned to me and our embrace broke. I missed his eyes piercing through me. He looked down and cupped my face. My skin welcomed his contact. I closed my eyes and focused on his warmth transferring to me.
"I walked out twice because I realized that I love you already. What you said that night destroyed me. I knew you wanted to hug me yesterday because of the mirrored hand dryer. It pains me to just stand there instead of kissing your lips and wrapping myself all around you but I stopped myself. You made it clear that your career is your priority and I respect that. I don't want you to ruin yourself for me because I know you'll hate that for me too." He kissed me on the forehead.
My tears are running down my face. I rested my head on his chest. I wrapped my arms around him and so did he. He rocked me slowly to calm me down. I looked up at him.
"How could you be so calm right now when I don't want to be seen with you. When I- I'm content enough to be your mistress?" I broke our embrace and backed away from him. More tears are coming down. My hands are shaking. I could barely keep my voice audible. I feel suffocated.
"I'm terrible! I'm selfish! What I'm doing to you is horrible. Shout at me! Judge me! I'm a miserable person!" My breathing quickly escalated and I could feel my heart beat too strongly. I covered my mouth with my hand to stop me from whimpering.
"This was the most difficult thing I did, Elle. I could have rejected the invitation but I saw your name on the list and couldn't stop myself from going. I knew coming here and meeting you won't change your mindset but I still did, because I love you. I love you enough that I am willing to be wrecked by you. I love you enough, I love you too much. You made me a fool. I was tempted when you contended to be my secret but I couldn't do that because you don't deserve it."
"I'm sorry." My voice shaken up from his side of the story. I placed my hand on the wall in between paintings for support
"I'm sorry too."
There was a long silence that followed.
"How about this, let's never meet again? This way, we avoid being psychotic around each other?" He did his best to lighten the depressing mood. He held out his hand. I placed my hand on his.
"How are we not admitted already when we're able to joke after the most heart-wrenching exchange the world missed?" I teased him back. My tears ran slowly now. He wiped my tears with both his hands. The door opened and it was Edna.
"I'm surprised you're not on the ground, Elle. I almost fainted when I saw Mr. Cavill earlier." Our eyes both widened in surprise. It didn't feel like we were enclosed in a room but in a grassy field above a bright and cloudless sky. I frantically memorized Hen's face because I knew, the moment we both step out from this room, our love story ends.
"C-coming, I-I'm coming, Edna. J-just give me a minute to..." I stifled an incoming whimper of our separation.
"Ms. Elle will be coming shortly. She... ughh... wants to take a selfie before she goes." Hen smiled sadly and hugged me tightly then ever. He knew too.
"Sure, sure! Take a million selfies while you get the chance, Elle!" Edna closed the door. Edna has the habit of barging in but at least now, she didn't run up to us but stayed put at the door. She also wasn't able to see our devastated state because of the dimness of the room.
