The Painter's Amour

His Serenata

"Unrequited love is the infinite curse of a lonely heart." – Christina Westover

6. His Serenata (Dante)

"Your fiancée's birthday should be on the next month right, my dear?" my darling mother, Helena, reminded me of that occasion as she picked up a tea cup before bringing the rim to her lips.

"Yes, dear mother," I replied with slight disinterest as I crossed my legs.

"So, what are you planning to give her as a gift?" she placed back the cup on a saucer while looking at me with high hopes.

Of course, she will be because it was her who chose Amelia to be my future wife since she always wanted to have a daughter like her. It was because of her fondness that she would always wanted me to give the girl the best among the rest. One day, I wouldn't be surprise if my mother presented her a chest full of gold and diamonds. If anything, that was how much she was fond of her future daughter-in-law.

"She wishes for me to play a piano on her birthday," I brought my own coffee mug and proceeded to take a sip of my espresso in attempt to entertain myself.

Today was Sunday and we were doing one of our family routines wherein we were to spend the entire morning in leisure or in tea time together. Hence, this was the only moment where I got to be with parents for a longer time, though it won't be as boring like now if my mother didn't brought up the topic about the upcoming occasion.

We were currently occupying our pergola which was built in the middle of our garden patio. Truthfully, this was one part of our mansion estate that I favored aside from my art room since this place was full of calmness too.

"And did you accept her request?" she asked me in a rather distant tone, her sitting posture becoming rigid.

As much as I desire to refuse Amelia, "I accepted but I don't know how to play a piano," I replied, trying not to look unpleased.

My mother was not heartless as she sounded, in fact she was a loving parent deep inside. It just that she was gradually misled by Amelia's sweet demeanor that she turned a blind eye on the girl's imperfections. In Helena's eyes, Amelia was a perfect and sweet lady.

"We can hire a musician to teach you on that instrument, son," my father, Arthur, joined the conversation with his eyes still glued on the morning newspaper. I looked away from both of them.

"Worry not, father. I already have someone to teach me on that," I said and he simply nodded in response. He was not a neglecting parent as he appears, he was actually a doting father if you may ask. The only problem was that he consistently and always let his lovely wife have her way on me.

"I hope it isn't a woman, my dear. I certainly wouldn't like it if you are seeing someone behind your fiancée's back. It is a disgrace for a man to cheat on his woman," my mother's eyebrows furrowed as she stared at me with her fingers interlacing together, uneasy.

Was this perhaps what they called a mother's intuition? It was quite a foreboding thing because their doubts were always never wrong.

"Trust me, mother, never in a lifetime would I think of having an affair with another woman." I chuckled inwardly after realizing that my mother was partially wrong on that one since it was, in fact, a man whom I was seeing behind my fiancée's back. Of course, she will undoubtedly go mad if she were to learn of my affair.

"You better be," she promised as she wiped her lips clean with a napkin cloth.

"By the way, mind if I know the name of this person who will teach you how to play the piano?" she questioned me as she flipped her curly hair off her shoulder.