His Unwanted Bride ~Editing~

Chapter Twenty Two: Alexios

     I froze. Did she really think I hated her? I thought back. Had I really treated her so badly?
     I realized that in the few conversations I'd had with her while she was awake, I'd called her names and treated her as though she was unworthy. I made her feel like garbage.
     "Tabitha, I don't hate you," I whispered down at her.
     I thought back to what Clarissa told me her father had done. He'd burned her notebooks, and flooded her and her books with water, stripping her of the only things that made her happy.
     She turned her head away from my chest as if she didn't believe me. I lifted my hand to her cheek and turned her head so she could look into my eyes. There was so much hurt and so much pain in her eyes I wanted to do everything possible to erase it.
    "I mean it Tabitha. I was angry because I felt like my life was not my own. I felt feelings for you from the very first time I saw you," I thought back to that day. She must have been rushing to bring cookies for a bake sale.
    "A week isn't very long Alexios. Most of that time you've spent showing me how you feel," she mumbled.
    "That wasn't the first time I saw you," I smiled.
     "W-what?" she asked.
     "I first saw you two years ago. You ran out of a building with a huge tote of baked goods, nearly knocking me on my ass," I laughed. "Your hair was in a messy bun, you were covered in flour and what I sincerely hope was chocolate frosting. You yelled out "I'm so sorry!" without looking back and kept running."
     Her eyes grew wide, she looked horrified. "Oh no... I remember that," she spoke gravely as she blushed. "I am so sorry. I must've looked like I escaped a mad house."
    "You did, but all I wanted to do at that moment was scoop you up and kiss you," I smiled at her.
     "So crazy girls covered in flour and mysterious brown stuff get your attention?" she laughed, my heart leapt in my chest.
     "That was the first time you've ever really laughed for me," I beamed.
     "You've seen me laugh," she smiled.
     "That doesn't count. It wasn't for me, it was for Clarissa," he smiled.
     "I first saw you four years ago. A little old lady was crossing the street and her bag broke, causing oranges and cans to roll across the crosswalk. Caught up in her frustration, she dropped her purse while trying to grab an orange, and things were falling from that too.  Everyone was being a real asshole about it and honking at her. You got out of your car and gave her a duffle bag (that I like to think you dumped out just for her), and helped her gather her things. Then you made sure she finished crossing the street safely. I remember thinking that was it, but then you went and yelled at the asshole in the car behind you about having respect for others and left. I remember thinking for the first time that not everyone in this world was an asshole, just most of them," she laughed.
    "You were there?" I asked in shock.
    "I was sitting at a small cafe table on the corner reading a book. I was about to go help the lady when I saw you get out of the car. I admit I sat back down and watched you because I was curious about how you were going to handle the situation. Of course I knew who you were, you were everywhere in magazines and billboards. I admit after getting a glimpse of the real you, I paid more attention when stories about you popped up," she blushed.