Chapter Eleven

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Tell Me Everything

"Tell me everything," Olivia ordered, putting both hands on the desk, and glaring at him intensely. She could definitely see why her grandmother had cheated on her husband for him. Even after his decades of shutting himself out and reading books, he still looked like a fine French man.

"Pardon?" He asked, looking away from his book and into the strange faces, he had in front of him.

"Sierra Mcburn. What was she to you?" Olivia asked. I could tell by her expression and the way she asked that question, that this was becoming more than just about Grecio or the book. She wanted to know if her mother or her aunt were from another father.

Was the man that took her to the toy store every time she cried, a fraud?

"And who are you?" He asked, letting down his book, and glaring back at her. "Olivia Mcburn. Sierras my grandmother." She replied, pulling herself away from the desk. She ran a finger under an eye, checking if a tear had escaped her eye without her permission.

"And why would you care? Who led you to me?"

"We just do," Amal smirked, crossing her arms below her chest and giving him a raised brow.

"Excuse me young lady, but how do you expect me to tell you things if you don't give me a good reason to do so?" He asked.

He's got a point...

"Do your god a favor and just answer the darn question." I hissed.

He straightened his position and eyed me with hatred I could never come to explain. "Fine then." He huffed.

"She was once the woman I loved. There? Is that good enough?" He hissed.

"Did she tell you she had a husband and kids?" Olivia asked, clearly wanting to know what kind of woman her mother was.

"Yes. I was aware of all that." He sighed.

"How long have you been together?" Amal asked. I knew she wasn't interested, but I guess she wanted all questions to be answered.

"One month or less."

"Have you slept-" Olivia tried to ask, her eyebrows eyeing him like a hawk, glaring at its prey. Things were getting intense, and even the cold-hearted Olivia could snap at the news she had just heard.

"No. I'm not that kind of man." He replied honestly. Something inside Olivia calmed her down after hearing this sentence. She was finally able to breathe again. Like a rock had just dissolved from her chest, "How did you meet?" I asked. This was the question we were all supposed to ask first.

"She came to this shop, for the first time. My mother and I had just moved in with my stepfather. This place was newly opened." He began. "I used to work here at the weekends. One day, and unexpectedly, she walked in wearing her blue Polka dotted dress. I was speechless, gawking at the gift God had delivered."

A married woman with children is your definition of "gift" from God? This sounds so darn cheesy.

"She was asking for a book, A Loovin book in fact. So I gave it to her. She smiled and thanked me when I had to thank her.. so very much, But no... I didn't let her leave like that! I complimented her dress.. and her dazzling red hair." He spoke those words, as if they were shards of glass, one wrong move, and then nothing was to be left unharmed. There was no doubt that these women still had space in his heart. A love story so pure yet guilty of many things...

"And that was how the affair started?" Amal guessed, snapping him away from his thoughts.

"Yes.." he replied.

"But Why did you break up? You sound like you still love her to this day." I asked. His eyes moved toward me, showing me that this man was weak against memories and love. While hatred gets you to do stupid things, it makes you strong. Love made you weak, and again, risk everything for that image you see every night before you go to bed. Dreams. Wishes. That's what love gets a human to see. Some times, it even blinds you from the truth.

"Oh I loved her very much, but she.. suddenly changed." He began, "She became more.. distant. And then we just stopped seeing each other."

"She never mentioned another man? Someone other than her husband?" I asked.

"No. Why?" He asked.

Not wanting to break this man's heart any longer, I pulled the two girls away. On our way out, a younger man entered the shop carrying a box of books. I could imagine him being a few years older than 25. He had a tanned complexion, unlike the old man who was pearl white. His golden bangs were brushed to the right, but somehow, some threads found themselves out of order.

I lowered my gaze, but his gaze was busy, admiring Olivia's beauty. He gave her a smile, but Olivia, being an emotionally confused woman right now, found no sense in flirting or even passing him a smile. I gave Olivia a small push, encouraging her to step out of the shop.

"He was staring," I informed her.

"I know," she shrugs walking towards her car. She passed me a smirk and yanked the passenger seat open. "Get in, I promised your parents you'll get back before it gets dark, babies."

"We are not babies, we just have Arabic parents." Amal laughed using Arabic parents as some kind of excuse. She opened her door and asked, "And why didn't you open my door as well!?"

"Because I'm your adopted sister," Olivia smirked.

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950 Words
11 Pages

This chapter is short, and again not much happened, but I just thought I should split the chapter in two because 2000+ in one chapter is a bit extreme...

And I don't know about you, but I enjoy reading short chapters because I like getting it done fast and easy.

Ok, now you literally have no idea what I'm planning in the next chapter, or any other chapter so it makes it much more interesting for me. Now that we've gotten Sierra's story clear- Almost- we have a whole lot of things to enjoy!

And who thought this was just some romantic comedy with a supernatural being...

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