Here All Along

chapter - 25

I looked around in the café, Mr. Adam Kenith waved from the last chair. He was wearing a black suit, his hair neatly sleaked back. He looked different than he did that night at his apartment. Professional, older and hotter.

"I'm sorry my friend got some urgency" i said, planting myself in the chair opposite to him.

"What's their name?" He asked.

I frowned sharply, "why do you ask?"

He shrugged casually, "just conversing..I guess?"

"We can talk about other things too" i said, rather defensively but I didn't realise it then until he pointed out.

"Okay..?" He said, leaning towards me, "what do you wanna have?"

I stared at the menu he passed towards me and looked back at him.

"This is not a date" i stated.

I always thought I had mastered the art of hiding my expressions until I met this man. He was so naturally displaying nonchalance after what I said and if i hadn't noticed a slight surprise shadowing his face, I would have thought he was neutral.

"Why not?" He asked, his tone soft but curious like that of therapists.

"Because this is not" i said stupidly.

He crossed his hands on his chest and tilted his head.

I took a deep breath and asked what was bugging me since last night.

"Are you married Mr. Kenith?"

"We separated six years ago" he said calmly and i couldn't identify any emotion in his tone.

"Do you have children?" I asked.

He smiled faintly, "a son. He's ten."

"Are you close to him?" I mumbled, staring somewhere in the space.

"Why do you ask?"

I looked up at him to see his gentle eyes on me. I expected him to answer my questions like he was doing. I didn't expect him to ask me something back.

"Just answer" i said.

"You can't have all the questions" he said smiling.

A pause stretched between us while i contemplated the threats of opening up to a therapist. But he wasn't there as a psychologist, right? He was there as my date. Well, it wasn't really a date but you know what I mean, don't you?

"What's the strongest memory you have of your son?" I asked.

I now expected him to bounce an another question back at me but he answered this time,

"He was seven when we last met. He was riding his bicycle and i was clicking his photos and he shot up his both hands in air and shouted happily, asking if i could do it like him. I told him i couldn't and his grin widened."

I smiled weakly, his fond nostalgic laughter surging in me, a bittersweet pain.

"You sound like a good father" my voice lingered, heart quickened perhaps because of how much I was trying to hold in or perhaps because i could feel him weaving his fingers with mine.

"Did your father have an affair?" He asked.

"How do you know?" I asked, looking up at him.

"I can see how important loyalty is for you. Isn't that the reason you didn't want to date me? Because you thought I might cheat on my partner?"

He was right. And it offended me more than it pleased to think he could read me so easily.

Only Win had such rights over me.