The Fake Girlfriend

Chapter 12

           Her head flung back as laughter freely flooded from her lips like heavenly bells. He couldn't help but stare at her in fascination, awe. She is so very beautiful, he thought, and kissed her cheek, tinting them innocently red. She shook her head, love in her eyes and flowers in her hair.

             She wasn't at all pretty, no. She was totally unaware of how stunning she was. He could see beauty, where she saw ugliness. That either that made him an artist or a person of very poor taste.

             He was an artist, he decided when she looked up at him with eyes so bright and young.

             "Take me with you.... please?"

             "You're still intent on coming with me? Of course." he laughed, once. "You know why I'm leaving, Ro. I have no idea what I am going to do with my life and that scares me to the brink of madness—"

             "So let's drive over that brink together?" She suggested, grinning.

             He smiled but his eyes were sad. "No." he said firmly. "You have something here, I don't."

             She looked away. "Brussels can't give you everything you want, you know."

             "Oh, yes, but it might. The future is unpredictable but my father's promise—"

             "Yes, your father's promise I know." she snapped.

             He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. She closed her eyes, and a tear escaped, looking like a diamond in sunlight as it rolled down her cheek. "Hey," he said. "I love you. Nothing could ever change that."

             "Yes, I know that but, I'm not enough to make you stay." He didn't answer. "It is as if you are always chasing something 10 feet before you; you can't see it, but your mind is so persistent on catching it that every obstacle around you is rendered unimportant. I can feel your value for me decreasing and I have no idea what to do about it. I don't know how to be enough for you, when you're more than enough for me.

             "So, I'm asking you —begging you— to take me with you. For the last time. Please."

             "You know I'd take you if I could." he said, looking up at the clear blue sky. It reminded him of her eyes.

             "You could." she agreed.

             "But I can't."

             "Because you won't."

             "Because Bath is your home. And Brussels is mine. And I will not ruin you future because of lust." 

             He had never truly understood the word 'mortified' until he saw her face. He, also, never knew the power words held and that it was in fact words which were spoke louder than actions.

             She stood up to leave. Sad, was the only word to describe her expression, it was the type of sad that hurt physically instead of emotionally.

             "Come on, Ro, I didn't mean it like that." He watched her, walk away further into field, knowing she'd get lost and come back, but also not knowing this would be the day when she didn't...

             "Look, I'm sorry." His half-hearted apology encouraged her to walk faster, into the field.

             It was when she dwindled into the distance, that he began to worry. With a groan, he pushed himself to his feet but not before packing away their pic-nic leftovers. When finished, he wondered where she headed.

             She waited for him to find her in an alleyway. Minutes, turned into hours, turned into hours upon end. But she refused to give in to her conscience telling her to give up because he wasn't going to come. She believed in true love.

         So why wouldn't she think her Prince would save her, regardless of her not being his Princess?

             Why would she turn around, aware that there is danger lurking in dark shadows?

             Why? When he is her true love.

*

 

"Where is he?" 

             "He still hasn't visited, honey." The nurse whispered., re-arranging the order of her patient's flowers, ranging from alive and new to dead and dated. "It's a shame as I'd love to meet him. But look on the brightside, I'm sure we're both expecting those two hooligans, you call friends, to be here any minute. They sure do start a party." she chuckled, lightly. "Maybe he's just waiting, to visit. I know if my husband was attacked by a gang of thugs, then flown to hospital, I'd be waiting for his recovery before I could even bare a peek. It's difficult to see your love ones in pain. Just remember: patience, darling."

             She nodded, feeling the drugs gradually take their effect. "Patience."

             "Exactly...." The nurse said. And after a while, "You never did tell me the boy's name, Rose."

             "Oliver."

             And she drifted away on top of a black cloud.

                                                                                    * * *