Chapter 35 - Laurene's POV

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Anger and sadness overwhelm me, as I want to both torture Ellison until he tells me what he is hiding, and be a good friend and let him tell me when he is ready. I know all this must be hard on him, but it is also hard for me. I have had a relatively boring life; even though my family is rich, my parents made me work hard to achieve top results in school, dance class and my piano and violin lessons. When others went out partying, I was at home doing something educational. I also had to buy my own car, toiletries, clothes and house, and my dad made it clear that he would not give me money to bail me out of certain situations. I had to be responsible and use my money wisely, which is why I am money-wise now. I am thankful to my parents for raising me this way, because it made sure that I did not turn out to be a selfish brat, relying on my parents for everything.

If I am being honest, I am a little scared about whatever afflictions Ellison may have with the Mafia. He is not a bad person, but I know that he is hiding some things from me, which does not make it very easy to trust him. He acts so caring and loving with me, but what if it is just an act? What if the newspapers were right about him being involved in illegal business? I do not think that my heart could take it. He is so important to me that even imagining that everything we have together is a lie causes me deep pain.

"Ellison... What did she mean that you have ties with the mafia? You don't have to tell me everything, but can you at least keep me in the loop a little bit." I ask him respectfully, trying not to put any added pressure onto his plate.

"Laurene! What do you not understand? I asked you to drop it! For once just listen to me!" Ellison angrily bursts out, attracting the attention of a couple of people eating around us, leaving me feeling embarrassed and humiliated.

I am annoyed that he thinks he can treat me this way, when all I am trying to do is help, but I let his words wash over me as I mumble an apology. If I was in his situation, and he kept asking me to reveal something that is obviously distressing, I would probably snap at him too. Maybe not in such a venomous way, but I would be a little bit annoyed. Even so, he could at least apologise – I definitely would in a reverse situation!

However, I remind myself once again that he is going through a hard time, so, I am trying to stay calm to show him that I respect him enough to let him tell me when he is ready. I think back to our time in the pool this morning, and I once again get the feeling of the waters touch, soft against my skin and the woodsy aroma that floods into my senses. Feeling serene, I take another sip of my drink and try not to feel too awkward.

Trying to look busy, I let my eyes wonder to the wall in front of me, which holds a painting of an abstract scene. The composition of the painting is curious. My eyes are moving from place to place unable to decide what the focus of the piece is. I can only imagine that the art reflects the chaos inside the artist. The colours are vivid, almost to the point of garish. The stroke lines are bold and the images from out of this world. It is both stunning and headache inducing; it is as a novel condensed onto a single page. I would like to see it as a series of paintings with each idea given time and space to be expressed, to communicate the meaning that was inside its creator.

Not wanting to look like I am mindlessly staring into space, I deter my attention back to my meal, waiting for me to indulge in it. My mind is spinning, giving me a headache, with all of the answered questions circling in it. Why can't life just be simple? I keep getting images of Ellison in fights, or taking drugs, or being beaten up. Each send a chill down my spine. If he was part of the Mafia, then I would not be mad at him; no, I would help and be there for him, and be very thankful that he has left that life style behind. It does scare me though. The unknown. Is he a dangerous criminal? Could he really hurt me if he wanted to? Rational or not, I have a slight, trifling fear of him now, and the things he may be able to do, or have done in his past. My meal is left untouched, as I traffic the peas systematically around my plate, trying to look full of activity.

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