Convenience

Part 94

There was silence for several long seconds after the waiter left.

"Could you please call me David?" David reminded her.

Her lips quirked, why would she use his name? Today might be the last time that they see each other, no need to use their names! So she ignored his request.

Instead she said, "For the last five years I've carved my own way." That is why she left Auckland, to stand on her feet. She left him. She wanted out. Like him, he wanted out, she assumed. That was the reason why he hadn't gone after her. He wanted out, she thought back then. She looked at him, her eyes daring him to contradict her, "I know that I can stand on my own two feet." Her eyes flashed, really pleased with herself. Her achievements and her success, was all down to her. "I don't need a man to provide for me." Her blunt response and honesty might not be modest. "I can do that for myself." She said succinctly. The fierceness in her tone and the determination in her eyes were rather enticing. He knew he was attracted to this feisty woman. Her eyes flashed. "I can take care of myself. And I do really well!" No sign of modesty. Her chin rose. "I can make my own way."

David acknowledged that.

She shrugged as she looked at him, and she said with more conviction, "So, you see, Mr Cardoso, you did me a favour."

"A marriage isn't just about financial security." David said gently, "Your grandfather meant emotional security, not just financial security. Before we even signed that certificate. We agreed." He watched her eyes, to see if she agreed with him. "We signed our marriage certificate, but in reality, we had signed everything before that!"

"I know that."

"And when we left the register office with our marriage certificate in our hands," David said succinctly, "we just carried on, as if our lives hadn't changed."

"Of course it changed our lives!"

"Really?" He shook his head. He leaned back in his chair as he said, "You stayed with your grandfather. I stayed at home."

"And who agreed to that? Remember?" She snapped.

David sighed. "I don't think anyone did. Not deliberately. " This was going wrong. He ran his fingers through his hair. He took a breath, took a chance, said quietly, "When my grandfather died, everything fell apart. My anchor was gone. My rock. My compass was gone. My life went down the gurgle! My path ahead, had changed. Suddenly." He stopped a second, just to see if she was really listening. "I expected to return from our honeymoon with him being there. Being there for us. Being there for me. Working together, to get the business sorted. It never occurred to me that he wouldn't be there. My mentor would be there. It felt as if everything that kept me grounded was gone, when he died."

Beatrice blinked. He sounded raw. Depressed. Distraught. Honest. She said sympathetically, "You could have told me. That you weren't coping." She wondered if he had time to grieve for his grandfather. He had returned from his honeymoon, buried his grandfather and had to take the helm of his business.

Abruptly he said, "We barely knew each other."

That was true. She thought, at that time, that he had everything sorted. He had everything under control. She remembered offering him some comfort and support on the plane, on the way back to the funeral, and he had all but pushed her away. But today, she knew from today's actions, he wasn't into public demonstration. He wouldn't accept a hug, not on the plane, let alone accept a hug from a stranger, her.

She mumbled, "As a man you don't talk feelings!"

His lips quirked, "Exactly!" He mumbled. "I put feelings away. Put my feelings into a box, closed the lid, and kept doing stuff that I thought I could do. Not thinking about any personal stuff, especially feelings, at that time."

"Have you opened the box now?" She said quietly.

"Open the box? Why?"

"Cause it leaves you vulnerable." She didn't want to remind him about his grief.

His brow furrowed, "Vulnerable? How?" He shook his head, not understanding her message. "We came back from our honeymoon and every part of my life splintered. Handling his funeral plans, dealing with my peculiar parents, sorting out the business debts, keeping people in jobs, and watching my life scatter at my age." Again, he settled back in his chair, folded his arms, "You want me to revisit that?"

"You can't just leave it there?" She said softly.

"Yes, I can." He said firmly.

She raised her brows.

"It is in the past. I am more concerned about my future. I want kids. I want a wife, a proper wife. I want a normal marriage, not a paper marriage. Have a real family. That is my future. It has taken me nearly five years to reach a point in my life, where I have thought about having a family."