His Perfect Boy (DDLB) (ManxMan)

4.

The lonely girl painting was delivered to my home and for a while there I was hoping that Harry would come along with the delivery person but that hope was squashed when I had opened the doors and did not see a trace of him there, only two men holding the giant painting.

I hung the painting in the sitting room, on my east wall, a bit away from the window and right in the view of one of the long couches so it would be easier for me to see. And the frustrating part of this whole thing is that Kenneth still wanted to take me out again and I did not understand the man. How was he not seeing the signs? Do I actually have to tell his man no so he would back off? I had things to do, to take care of and I did not have time to humor a man who only thinks and talks about himself.

My weekend started with a cup of tea while sitting in front of the tv, a blanket thrown over my legs as I watched Bridgerton. It was one of my comfort movies. She got her man at the end while I had to let my man go.

I let out a sigh as I watched the main characters dance and dance, wishing that was me. My phone buzzed and I looked at it. It was a message from Kenneth. I picked up the phone and ignored the message. I tapped on the browser and searched Kenneth's name. Once I saw the results, I instantly rolled my eyes.

"Of course."  I said to myself.

Kenneth was the second son of the chairman  who ran a chain of resorts and even a telecommunication company as well. They were, like Deborah would say, swimming in money. He was a rich stuck up man that would never let me get a word in. Anything I said, he would have his own story to cut me off from.

I closed the browser and pulled up my sister's contact.

To Leah: I'm not seeing Kenneth again. Find me someone less stuck up and not boring

Leah's response was immediate, like she had been waiting for it.

From Leah: On it, Will

I dumped the phone on the bed and took a sip of my tea. I stayed in that position for a couple more minutes before getting up. I rinsed out my cup with water before placing it in the dishwasher. I showered, moisturized and walked to the closet with a robe wrapped tightly around my body. I grabbed a black tennis skirt that stopped mid-thigh, black panties, a white shirt that was tucked into the skirt and a purple sweater vest. I styled my hair and wrapped a thin bracelet around my wrist.

It was after I was done, did I realize that I was so dressed up. What was I dressing up for? I had no plans to go anywhere today. I made my way to the full length mirror that was on one side of my walk in closet and stared at myself. I looked really good and I. . . wanted to see Harry. I wanted him to see me like this. I missed his compliments, how he always seemed to be touching me all the time. I didn't know how deeply I had missed him until he walked back into my life.

The gallery might be open today. I could go and see him. I would be happy just seeing him from afar. It would be better than just stewing in my house and overthinking. It's been a year and I think I deserve to see him just a little bit.

I stuffed my feet into white sneakers, grabbed my phone from the living room and made my way out of my home, making sure the door was locked. I got into the car and pressed the start button. The drive to the gallery was filled me with singing along to some of the songs on the radio. It was barely ten in the morning and I should probably have eaten before going out.

I parked my car in the parking lot and got down, not giving myself the opportunity to think twice about what it was I was about to do. I was just desperate. I locked the door and made my way to the steps of the gallery. It was open and since it was so early in the morning on a Saturday, the gallery was empty. Like I was the first person to have walked in today. The attendant gave me a smile and asked if I wanted a tour but I shook my head at her.