A Heart for Caroline (Complete)

Caroline

Caroline drew open the curtain. The sky was in a gyrate of silver and orange hues. She heard on the radio that a storm is to pass by the city, but she hadn't expected it to touch down that night. After popping a pill to calm her nerves, she headed to her kitchen and prepared a one-person meal; just as always.

Successful as she was in her job as a florist, Caroline lacked the scent and color of happiness. She was as gloomy as the storm outside, thus, it prevented her from having a chance to find a lover or even a roommate to be with. Perhaps, that's why she has chosen to be amongst the flowers; to bathe, even for a while in their color and scent. To pretend that her everyday life was that of those who'd come into her shop with wide smiles spread on their faces, requesting intricately made bouquets. Because if she'd be honest, the pretense was all she had. Reality would never let her in. Not in the way she wanted.

A loud clap of thunder from outside, seconded by the sudden whistling of her kettle, had her jumping off her chair.

"Damn it," she cursed as she made her way to the stove. Carefully lifting the kettle, she reached for her cup and poured water on it.

Coffee, coffee was perhaps the only scent and color she had, which was sad—according to her sister—because it was black and could cause a disease. Perhaps, that's what she was, a disease.

Slowly, she made her way to her living room, laid her cup on the side table, and reached for the remote. Another rumble and the deafening sound of thunder startled her. With a swift craning of her neck, she cursed at her window, then murmured, "I wish the electricity holds up."

She drifted off to sleep. Caffeine no longer worked on her. But that slumber was disturbed when a loud knocking from her door nearly rivaled the angry drum of thunder in the sky.

Groggily, she looked up at the clock. The time showed twelve. Frowning, she wondered if she had heard a knock. What idiot would be knocking on someone's door in the middle of the night? Or better yet, which moron would be out on a storm?

"Caroline?"

Her heart instantly skipped a beat. It had been eight long years, but she recognized that voice. It was rougher and deeper, but still, it was the voice that plagued her dreams. A voice that lived in a reality that she'd never been a part of. He made that clear when he suddenly vanished from her life.

Caroline walked toward the door. She fought with herself as her mind bounced between opening and keeping it closed.

"Caroline, it's Jeffrey. I was in town. I heard from our batch mates that you live here. Please open the door. I'm soaking wet. Don't worry, none of them came with me. I know they made you uncomfortable."

She wanted to yell at him. How dare he, she thought. After years of silence, he suddenly decided to come and see her. But then again, what right had she to hate him?

Jeffrey was her senior in high school. He was part of the chess committee and that's where she met him. She wasn't a member, nor had she known how to play, but she found the game fascinating. Every day she would drop by the chess club and watch the players. Then one day, Jeffrey approached her and asked if she wanted to learn. She was a timid girl, and so, she ran.

She thought that was the last he'd speak to her. He had no reason to. He wasn't a handsome guy or a school jock, but he had his charm and that made him popular with the girls. But one day, she found him by her classroom door and begged to speak to her. He said he needed a junior to mentor. It was part of their club rule. Caroline had no reason to protest, other than the fear that the other girls might bully her. But Jeffrey assured that he'd watch over her.

Every day he would wait for her to finish class and the two of them would spend hours inside the club room. Soon, she became a regular member, earning a spot amongst the players that competed against other schools.