Redemption

Luke POV. 2

Money doesn't buy happiness. It simply reduces life enjoyment cause there isn't a thrill when pursuing something that you want. When you have all the money in the world, you know you'll get what you want, and that's when the fun misses.  It's like asking for a chocolate bar, knowing you'll get a chocolate bar.

    But what about the possibilities of getting something different without knowing. The drastic process of working for something that you don't know if you're going to get, yet you still hope for it. The idea of wanting something and getting the opposite of what worked for. Isn't life better when everything is spontaneous?

   I wish I could tell her that she's the best spontaneous thing that has ever happened to me. That she is the only one that makes me act out of control. She is the best reminder I've had about the coincidences of life. The sweetness I needed to taste.

   My mind goes back to her smile every time she eats chocolate. The way she hums in pleasure after savoring ice cream. Perhaps her review after having a bite of a strawberry cheesecake. Or simply the way she enjoys and appreciates the sweetness of everything.

   She craves sweets, but I crave to taste the sweetness of life through her. That's what she is.

    She's the craving for my survival. A simple moment of loving and sweetness with her was gonna help me connect with myself, and not by the persona and image I project with everyone else. 

    I'm bitter, I know that. But I used to be the opposite, I used to be just like her. Gradually, I replaced enjoyment with indifference. Everything in my life was a pattern, recurring days that I had started to get bored of. Although I tried making different life choices to make me feel something like new women, new businesses, new places, etc. I couldn't fill the void in my chest.

    I felt I didn't live a fulfilling life. Ironic, isn't it?
Probably that's why it's better to lack money, you get to work for it. It gives you purpose.

    The lack of it makes it easier to share the feeling with others. It makes it easier to see life more realistically.

    And it took me so long to realize and understand it. Oh God, if only she knew how much I needed her in my life. Lenna.

    Weeks had passed by since she left and started her last school year. I know the classes she takes, where she hangs out the most, her friends, and everything else I shouldn't know of. I have kept my distance like I promised myself but failed to keep her out of my mind.

Somehow her smile popped in my head in every business meeting I attended to. Somehow I could still taste her almond snowballs late at night when I craved for something sweet. And somehow I found myself smiling every time I talk with my parents because all I could ever think of is how Lenna could get under my mom's nerves.

Even now as I scrolled through her university page and noticed her name in the pages of this year competition. She was going to give a pitch as one as her class projects next week, something that I was intrigued to see her in. Unfortunately I had a business call with the district managers that I couldn't reschedule even if I wanted to.

Suddenly Susan walks in and leaves a set of packages that my mother kept sending ever since I told her about the marriage deal. Packages that were a reminder of the things she will do if I married her. Basically threats of the things she'll take from me if I don't marry someone of her own choice.

    What a lovely mother and son relationship, huh?

   I smile at them again.

    "You need to talk to her," Susan exclaims tiredly, sighing at she sits in one of the leather chairs.
    "You want me to be more clear to her about how depressing her life is?" I admit, not caring to hide the darkest secrets of my life. As if my assistant doesn't secretly know about them. "She's getting involved in my personal life cause she has nothing else to do with hers."
       "Luke. You're his only son," Susan adds softly, scared to cross the line of my private life. "I know that she never spent time with you when you were a kid, but there must be a reason why she didn't—"
       "She didn't because she was busy with other things that seemed more important than raising her own and only son." I look at Susan with cold eyes. "Please, don't tell me that you pity her."
      She looked away, aware that she was doing so.
     "Did she told you to say that?"
    Her face went pale at my question. "Oh no, she didn't. It was just my opinion—I didn't mean to indulge in your relationship."
       "It's okay Susan. I won't get mad at you if you share what you are thinking or—even pitying my mother."
    She nodded, hiding her embarrassment from me meanwhile, my gaze fell on the brown small packages that probably contained signed papers of family assets.
       
    Little did she know that my mother was an expert at being the victim. She knows how to get what she wants. That's how she made my father marry her; she had a good plan to make everything work.

    My mother is smart and clever. That's how she has endured this life.

    I used to observe her a lot. The way she acted in front of other women with the same privilege as her. The way she convinced men to give her what she wanted. In other words, how she manipulated them easily.

    The way she never trusted anyone but somehow did with the maids of the house to raise me meanwhile, she traveled around the world for business along with my father.

    Everyone adored her. She was a businesswoman, a respected wife, and supposedly the perfect mother to others except for her own son.
   
    "Make my afternoon free, I'll visit her." I look back to my computer and close the tabs before straightening.
    "You want me to reschedule your evening meeting as well? Just in case."
    Susan lifts her agenda and begins to write it down as I begin to walk away.
     "Please. I don't know how long is this going to take me. But I need to sort this thing out."

.