The 12th Kiss

❣Ever after

[After you're done with the chapter, please do read the note in the end]

"Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing and forgiving. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses."

-- Ann Landers

❣Ever after

Metilda felt the rush of the wind caressing her skin, the bellowing sound of the lawn mower. Her eyes, of clear honey, watched Mark with bafflement.

He sat on his knee, the stethoscope hanging around his neck, his hair in an entangled mess. His grey eyes accessed her carefully, a calm reflection on his features.

He didn't look like a man who was proposing to the love of his life. His relaxed demeanor gave it away.

Metilda remembered the time John has proposed. The way his hands shook, sweat trickled down his forehead, and how it looked like his life depended on her answer.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Metilda spoke through gritted teeth. "I mean, Mark... we're nothing of that sorts."

Mark smiled and rose to his feet. He tucked the velvet case carefully in his pocket. "That's what I thought too"

"What do you mean?"

Mark settled down next to Metilda. "The ring I actually bought for my girlfriend. I'm going propose to her tonight."

Metilda looked even more confused than before. She drew her eyebrows together. "Are you-"

He held up his hand. Silencing her. "John came to my cabin yesterday. He has something very interesting to say."

There was a knock on Mark's door. He had just fallen asleep in the doctor's lounge. Couldn't they leave him alone for one second? The man needed at-least few hours of sleep.

When Mark reached the door, he found John standing there. For a moment, he feared for his life. What if he was here to arrest him? Or even worse, kill him.

But one look at John's face, erased all of Mark's fears.

He had the face of a defeated man.

"He wanted me to take care of you. He thinks we have something going on. I have no idea where he got this idea from."

Metilda gripped the golden band hanging around her neck from a thin silver chain. After signing the divorce papers, she no longer had a reason wear it but she couldn't let it go.

A sinking feeling entered Metilda's heart. What could he possibly be thinking? She tried assuring herself, desperately, as a lost sailor trying to reach for shore.

When Mark noticed the tensed look on Metilda's face, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "I swear I've never seen you in that way. You and Louis made me so happy. At times, I thought of you as my own family. But Metilda, I'm sorry if I've caused a rift between John and you."

Metilda shook her head. "It's not that, Mark. I'm just worried." She looked at Mark's grey eyes. For a moment, she saw wild green brimming with tears fill her vision. She blinked once, twice. "John isn't the kind of man who would bend his pride like that. He would rather die."

"Maybe you don't know him well enough."

She smiled. "Ten years have fallen short, I suppose."

❣❣❣

Talihra was a bustle of activity when she arrived at the hospital. She carried plastic containers stuffed with sandwiches and a pitcher filled with warm tea.