A Christian Romance

Chapter 33 - Confession

Adam had been interrogated about the content of the letter that the prison officer retrieved from the crevice of the wall. He claimed that he didn't know anything about it, and it was true. But a detective always doubts. So he let Adam go but kept the letter to investigate some of the people and the locations listed there. Apparently, part of Richard's plan had worked out!

Since that moment, even before - to be fair - he attempted to make contact with Debora again. She wouldn't answer any calls and replied with quick text messages instead. That was all the contact they had in the past month: an endless exchange of messages that led nowhere. He was annoyed that she never made quality time for him and strongly suspected that it was all thanks to his - now called - former best mate. How he hated and envied Joel lately! So much that he couldn't even realize that his own intervention based on his fear had caused the whole situation. His fear became his reality. Of course, who can blame him, with such a terminal diagnosis? But the truth is that in praxis we never know if today is our last day, however, we dare take the next day, year, even decades, for granted! "Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof." (Matthew 6:34) - thus says, Jesus.

During his drive to the Opera House, a battle raged in his head; many of the bible verses he knew were playing like a broken record. He quickly realized that the less he cared about those Christian thoughts, the quicker they faded, and that was how his conscience grew calloused. When he arrived at the destination, he didn't even care to find a parking lot, he just stopped as close as possible to the emblematic building of Sydney.

He had arrived there at lunchtime, and he was expecting to see his beloved come out to fetch something to eat; it would be his great chance to finally talk to her. But she was taking longer than usual and the impatience started growing on him. He waited nonetheless, entertaining his thoughts with the last moments he had shared with her in his parents' penthouse. Soon, without him noticing, the events coordination team headed out for lunch, and when he cared to open his eyes, there was skinny Joel next to the hot black chick, going together in the direction of an apartment building nearby. That sight infuriated him, and he struck the steering wheel. The pair was walking in a restricted area where his car couldn't go; pillars were preventing that type of invasion. Even if he walked to them, the distance was still considerable for him to reach them on time.

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What a day! Debora was the one complaining about her feet when she arrived home late. She put her shoes aside, while Joel worked on something for their dinner. That night they would be eating take-out, she could tell by the smell; it revolved her stomach. She had made quite an entrée in the kitchen, even startled her mate: barefoot, wearing an executive dress, and with her hair - that had been tied up all day - out.

"What's for dinner?" She asked.

"Wow, your hair!" It wasn't the first time he saw her like that, but it was always interesting to watch the pieces of art that her hair could do.

She walked into the kitchen, nonchalantly, and grabbed herself a glass to drink some water.

"I bet I look ugly now."

He let out a giggle and replied afterward:
"Even looking like a volcano erupted on your head, you look better than any woman that I know."

"What are you trying to get from me with those compliments?" She leaned onto the counter, and as she was drinking water, she felt ready to crash soon. "Chinese for dinner?"

"Yeah!" He confirmed.

"It's better than a pizza." She tried to look at it on the bright side.

"I've arrived like twenty minutes ago." He had picked out his tuxedo and her petrol green dress from a laundry shop. "I figured I wouldn't have time to cook anything, besides I thought you liked Asian food." Joel was finished preparing the trays with their food.