His Wicked Heart

Chapter Thirty-One

paraluman
(n.) a muse that inspires artistically

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PRESENT

GENEVIEVE

Walking around my house with clumsy steps, and a phone near my ear, I hummed and oohed to everything Val said from the other side, occasionally also having to pull my phone away from my ear to save my eardrums from her screeches.

The girl had been talking with me for hours about how her recent date with Morgan had gone, and how romantic it was.

I was saving myself from the shame of cringing only because that would be very hypocritical. I was having almost the same kind of relationship (and maybe a little more excessive) with a certain man.

Well, at least I wasn't going around telling the world about it.

I sighed when Val asked from the other side if I was even hearing anything she was saying.

"Yes, yes, I'm hearing you. I've been doing it for hours without charging for payment." Her scoff was what I got as a response, "Excuse me, consider it a blessing that you've got someone like me who would ever make time to talk with you. People nearly die to have a conversation with me."

I chuckled a little. That was partly true, many lonely beings liked to talk and share what's going on in their life with Val. Well, she was quite the social butterfly, after all.

But there's no way I'm agreeing with her statement. That'd give her an ego inflation.

"You're quite affected by Morgan's words, I think. A piece of advice for you: don't let his words turn you delusional." She gasped dramatically at my playful remark, as if insulted.

"Good luck with earning my forgiveness, Miss Genevieve! But remember that you ain't having it with such harsh words leaving your mouth."

"Aww, are you hurt?"

"Yes, and I need apology with tears right now."

"Good luck with getting it."

She laughed afterwards, the extravagant sound making me shake my head.

Then, she asked me about how my days were going. Just like that, we talked for a time being.

Before long, I had bid my goodbyes because I was supposed to visit Maggie today. It's been a while since I've met my aunt last time. And today, on the weekend, it felt like the perfect timing to meet her.

"Okay, bye, Gen."

With that, the line from the other side went dead, and I put my phone on the wooden surface of my kitchen counter.

Time to get ready.

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Locking the door of my house, I turned around, prepared to leave my yard. Right at that moment, my eyes widened at the scenario before me.

I stared, shocked, at the man leaning against the BMW, his expression amused. "Were you going somewhere?" With one hand tucked into his pocket and the other holding his phone, Aleksandr asked.

"Um, yeah?" I answered, a frown appearing on my face as I slowly made my way toward him. "What are you doing here?"

It was the weekend, so there was no reason for him to come here today. And if my memory was not that of a goldfish, then I could say that we had no date planned for today either.