A Mad Man's Clause

12|The Trail of Crumbs

White sterile walls enclosed around her, offset by light wood and marble fixtures. The single sofas were a pale gray and faced each other. Mai occupied one, fiddling with the tip of her nails. The trip here had been categorically frightening to say the least and she hated every second that ticked by with the red-faced woman who looked like she could use a shrink herself.

"What would you rather I call you, Mrs. Jensen?" the doctor therapist asked in a tone that was not severe.

Mai looked up long enough to say, "Mai. Mai is fine."

The woman scribbled something on the pad before speaking again, "Okay, so Mai. What brings you here today?"

"I keep seeing my dead fiancé."

Gravels crunched under her feet as she marched towards the car parked a little way ahead. Opening the passenger door, she slid inside and shut it then turning to the other occupant reclining in the driver's seat she asked, "What did you say you did for a living again?"

He cocked a brow. "That woman doesn't look like she comes cheap." she elaborated.

Henry laughed, sitting up. "Don't worry about it." he said as he leaned over her, pulling out the seatbelt. Her breath hitched, trying hard not to bridge that barely there space between their faces. Something changed that night from the week prior.  Although the kiss they shared was not repeated, Henry took every liberty to make the most mundane things coquettish.

Still close, he asked, "Are you hungry?" His taffy breath fanned her face. A flush caressed her cheeks. He shared a knowing glance with her which got her saying "Yes"

He drew back, gaze lingering for a moment's second before he sped off. Shapes and colours fade into receding blur, the only sound came from vibrating hum of the moving vehicle. Words she had only ever acknowledged in the confines of her timorous mind flooded out in that room,

"Why do you think that is?"

"Because I am like the King Midas..." A rush of feelings clogged up her throat and threatened to choke her words, "Except everything I touch- I love withers and dies."

The scratching noise of pen on paper met her ears. It frayed her nerves and ripped at the seams of her harbouring grief, digging away every minute layer.

"Mai."

She turned sideways. The car was still in motion. Nothing much had changed, except there was cold weight on her left hand. Henry's had found hers and in its candor, she found the comfort she sought.

They ended up parked across the road from a quaint bistro flanked by a household appliance store and a greenhouse. The wide berth of the glass windows revealed the few patrons precariously seated about.

The car's engine went to a hush then Henry turned her way. "Do you want to go inside?" he asked, his eyes searching hers. For what she was unsure but then again, that was the man he was. Always fishing for zips of her thoughts. He had told her once in not so many words that she was an open book. Her emotions flickered on her outer being like old cinema slides. She had laughed it off but it slightly worried her that it was an observation she had heard countless before from her dead lover.

"Yes" she replied. There was the hope that being outside in the company of strangers would make her forget her own anxieties for a few hours. They made their way inside and found a seat for themselves next to a plant shelf. She sat while Henry hovered next to her.

"What would you like?" he inquired.

She shrugged, "Whatever you're having."

Henry offered her a small smile before heading towards the front counter.