A fairytale without name (Rose and Marco)

Chapter 58

Rose

Α week after Veronica's wedding and as we were finally getting ready to visit the famous Texan estate, I received a phone call from my mother letting me know that my grandfather had passed away. I couldn't believe he was gone. I didn't have the chance to say goodbye, to ask him why he didn't want me to be with Marco, to thank him for helping me expose Jack or simple tell him that I loved him.

Apparently he was sick for a while but no one except for my grandmother knew. He didn't want to burden us, she said. He wasn't in pain and he died at home, as he always wanted. I remember a time when I was fourteen or so, when he needed to undergo a simple procedure on his knee. Before he was taken to surgery, he had made my mother promise him that if things went wrong, he didn't want to stay in hospital but go home and die there. He detested hospitals and doctors, except for my mother. He loved my mom and never stopped telling her how lucky my father was to have found her.

Despite our differences and the recent events, I would miss him. My father was devastated by his sudden death and for the first time in my life I was the strong one, the shoulder he could lean on and cry. I remained composed and calm until everyone had left the house. But then my grandmother handed me a letter he had left for me, a confession as it was written at the top of the first page and I collapsed.

I hadn't expected him to be so sentimental ever. He wrote about memories from when I was little and things I had almost forgotten. He finished by saying how proud he was of me and how he always knew I was destined for great things. As far as Marco was concerned, he described him as the perfect man for me and gave me his blessing along with his plea for forgiveness. My tears were falling uncontrollably and I was on the verge of hyperventilating had it not been for Marco's hand touching my shoulder.

I hadn't expected to be so affected by his death either and I caught myself being sucked in a dark place I didn't want to. I started working more in an attempt to prove to myself that I was okay, not only in my job but in his business as well. I found extreme comfort in sitting with him at his home office watching him work and assisting him whenever he needed it. He made a point to praise me for any good ideas I came up with and somehow we almost always ended up having sex on his desk. His new favorite place, as he said.

He had asked me more than once to move in with him but I wasn't ready yet. I felt like I needed my own apartment for times when I wanted to be alone, to think, cry or do embarrassing things I didn't want him to know. So each time he asked, I just smiled and told him 'not yet'. He wasn't one to give up though and made sure the time we spent at his was unforgettable. He wanted to show me what I was missing by not living there.

I still had my moments, when I would panic from a nightmare or freak out from something he would say but I was handling it. I had learnt to filter my reactions and focus on the bright side. He was the bright side of my life now. As much as it pained me to admit it, I was addicted to his smile, his touch and his unique way to make me feel good about myself. I really didn't know what real love was before Marco loved me. That was a scary feeling, to feel so much dependant on someone's presence I mean, but it was a welcome one for the first time to have my feelings reciprocated in a healthy, normal way.

Surprises, romantic gestures and gifts were on the menu every week. Anything he got me was always accompanied by a note. A verse or two from a love poem, lyrics from a song we heard together at some point or just his own thoughts. I really loved this romantic side of him and I made sure to let him know just how much.

"Next family meeting, I want you to be there." Laughing, I reminded him that I was not part of the family and even if I were, I wouldn't know what to say. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he drew me closer to him so as our faces were just inches away. Kissing my forehead, he sighed and looked into my eyes.