The Art of Finding Jasmine Rose Peters

37

'Love is a strange feeling, indeed. It messes up your thoughts and turns you into a fumbling mess.'

~JRP

Everyone has this moment when something that has been on his mind for a while just clicks. Some get it in the shower; others on long walks alone or with their pets; and even some when doing something completely random. But Hayden realized it when she was outside the house of the guy she loved, contemplating entering.

Ever since she was a little girl, she had always told herself that her life wasn't normal — that she wasn't normal. Why? Because she didn't have a mother while all her friends back then did.

And then, to make her point even stronger, she lost her beloved daddy. Coupled with her uncle's abuse, it had made her give up on life. She was afraid to make friends and be in relationships because she believed she wasn't normal.

But then, everyone's not normal. Everyone has his own battles that left him with scars. Scars that made him different. She also had her scars, she might not be proud to have them, but they were still hers and she had to wake up and fight for what she believed in.

Speaking of which, she still had a doorbell waiting to be pressed. With her newfound confidence and strength, she let her energy flow and ring the doorbell. Time to face her fears.

Geoffrey opened the door, a kind smile on his face. She smiled back.

She had almost reached the staircase when she bumped into Melissa. Even in casuals, the woman was primed to perfection in a floral summer dress with sandals and simple makeup, looking not a day over 30.

"Hello, Hayden," she said, showcasing her pearly whites. Despite her genuine kindness, Hayden was still intimidated by her. How could she not when she was flawless? "You must've been very busy to not visit us in this amount of time."

Hayden lowered her head, trying to come up with the perfect reply. "I'm here to make sure things are good," she said, truthfully after a while of fumbling.

"Oh, good to hear. I didn't say anything because," she paused, "but I had noticed he wasn't his usual self and I put two and two together."

Because you don't speak to each other, Hayden completed it in her mind. They stood for some awkward seconds before Melissa said, "I have to go, now. It was nice meeting you, Hayden. And good luck."

"Thanks." Hayden turned to find the stairs when she stopped. "Melissa?"

"Yes?" She also stopped in her tracks and faced the teenager.

"He doesn't hate you," Hayden said.

"I hope your words are true, but I don't think he'll ever look at me like I'm his mother." Her words were a cold whisper in the gigantic house — the words of a broken and grieving mother. She had lost two kids at the same time. Hayden could only imagine how hard it was.

"He'a still grieving. The wound is still fresh in his heart. He needs more time, but I promise you, he'll look at you like he used to one day." They were sincere words, from one broken person to the other.

"Thank you, Hayden." She came closer and offered her a warm hug. She smelled like roses and jasmines — a delightful surprise.

Hayden pulled back. "Do you think I can have a cup of noodles? The kind that Calvin likes?" she asked, looking at her shifting feet.

"Sure thing."

She followed Calvin's mother to the large modern kitchen adorned with the latest cooking appliances and some beautiful paintings of kitchen-related items. The white marble kitchen occupied by three chefs was a dream-come-true for a baker like her.