Twenty

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My gigantic three-story house stands before me, painted in light gray with tinted ceiling-tall French windows

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My gigantic three-story house stands before me, painted in light gray with tinted ceiling-tall French windows. Outside lays a well mowed lawn garden, an enormous fountain rippling its water down the large fish pond, and a massive swimming pool at the far end that makes it a dream come true.

It's my demesne—I'm the queen of this castle. My eyes contemplate its details for almost two minutes. I should be elated that I'm back home, but on the contrary is what I'm feeling. I feel like I've stepped into a prison cell, the place I want to escape so badly.

"We're here," Red mutters, snapping me out of my trance.

I sigh heavily and unbuckle my seatbelt. This is it. I don't even feel like looking at Red right now, for all of my emotions may erupt and something I'm avoiding may eventually happen. I better get out of this car before I start kissing him and forget that my vacation from reality is over.

"I won't go anywhere until tomorrow," I say while getting my bag. "You are free for the rest of the day." I still can't look him in the eyes so I decide to step out.

"Mia," Red calls gently before I open the door.

"Hmm?" I manage to glance up at him. His one arm is resting on the steering as he's facing me. "What?" I urge, feeling myself like an open book at his intense scrutiny.

His sharp jaw tightens. "Nothing. Get some rest," he says with a small smile, swallowing whatever he wanted to say.

I nod and clutch the door handle at the same time. All I need is to be away from him and maybe I'll erase his memory that's stuck to my heart like a tattoo.

Butler Lucas is at the front door when I stride over. We both smile and somehow I begin feeling at home. Dressed in his cream, four-buttoned suit, his gray hair well combed backward, I see the real French lad he truly is.

"My dear," he regards me with open arms and I draw myself straight to him. "Glad to have you back." He rubs my back tenderly.

"Thank you." I smile widely, burying my sorrow deep within.

"What's wrong?" he asks quickly. The camouflage of emotions is something I'm good at, but I don't think I can ever fool this old man. "I get it. Not my area of concern is it?" he adds.

"No." I chuckle, pulling back from his arms. We slowly head inside while I continue, "I think I need a very good rest and I'll be fine. You have nothing to worry about."

"And good food will do." A female voice interrupts and it's a plump curly haired woman who comes into view, wearing a neat apron around her waist.

"Imelda?" I snap gleefully, watching Mrs. Einstein smiling fondly at me. "You're back!" I'm awed, for she is the best cook I've ever had in my house.

She's been gone for a short vacation, so I'm happy to have her back.

"Yes, Ma'am. How are you?" Imelda asks, smiling wider.

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