Faith is a Secret Not a Promise

Chapter 7 - Deadlines of Life

Michael

"I'll be able to see you soon, ok?", my voice is sincere.

"Alright. But please Mikey, no empty promises this time and don't think you can get away with facetime!", her sincerity is fading into agitation from the reminder of how I frequently let her down.

I scoff gingerly, "Don't worry mom, I will see you in person soon. I'm flying back next week actually."

"I'm glad." Her voice is warm and homely, and I suddenly feel terrible for all of my rainchecks, my transparent excuses and the fact that I'm not there with my mother as much as I should be. As much as I'd like to be.

"Anyway, how is London Mikey? I bet it hasn't changed one bit from when I visited with your father back in ... Oh! You would've been so young, the time really has flown by!"

The mention of my father sends a pleasurable ache through my chest.

"Well I bet you two had more fun here than I am right now. I haven't been able to see all the sights yet, I've been too busy working."

"Michael." her tone becomes a poignant dagger of parental discipline and the instinct to fear for what I possibly could've done to upset her kicks in. "You have been in London for too long now to have barely even seen it! Honestly Michael, promise me that you won't waste this opportunity to relax, at least a little bit."

Why is everyone so insistent that I need to have fun?

I attempt to reason with her but I already know that I'm going to be playing a losing game with my adoringly stubborn mother. "You know how work is these days, there's a lot to get done and if I treat this work trip as a vacation then it'll all pile up."

"Let it pile up every once in a while, dear." She speaks softly but I know that her words carry the heavy weight of a worrisome mother.

I say nothing else on the subject as I'm not sure how to explain that my life has deadlines that I must meet because I've got an entire inherited company on my back.

"I'll speak to you soon, Mom."

I hear a crackling fog of a heavy breath, I press the phone closer to my ear.

"Alright then Mikey. I love you."

I lick my lips, "Goodbye."

She whispers back the same 'goodbye' and I hang up the phone.

______

I have always hated crowds. Ever since I was a kid I would always find the nearest person to hide behind or cling onto. That person would usually be someone from my family, though they are a countless miles away right now when I'm in what feels like the biggest crowd ever to exist.

Despite my time living in New York City, I have never quite gotten used to the bustle of the city. I suppose I became to comfortable with my childhood, growing up in a small town. It was safe.

I'm currently walking through London - alone - and embarrassed to admit that I wish I had someone to hide behind. I'm in desperate need of comfort and security so that the plunging feeling in my stomach can finally dissapate. The feeling crawls and my chest lurches anytime I think back to yesterday. To that look. A wave of blue abyss that crashes into an endless sea of green.

That stupid pub, which I still don't know why I even felt the need to go inside in the first place. I suppose it could only be that the Gods of Fate had decided to have their fun with me by letting us meet again.

Well, you could hardly call it a meeting when neither person utters a word. We barley even understood each other through our gaze. Although, I think I understand one thing about him now: Oliver hates me. I could see it and hear it in the way he looked at me. Those green eyes held nothing but the epitome of "If looks could kill", and I think we both know that he killed me in that moment.

I have never had anybody hate me before. It's unsettling and makes my chest heave once more just thinking of it. And now I'm here, hoping to those stupid Gods that I don't run into him again, yet also hoping - and more silently - that I could make Oliver hate me just a little bit less. That he could at least look at me for more than 5 seconds and not have my sould sprint out the door, or worse yet, try to smile at him.

I rush a hand through my curls and push away the memory of how I couldn't prevent the corner of my lips from lifting. It was barely a twitch, but it was the most unlikely thing that I have done in the past year. And worst of all, I can't make sense of the internal war going on inside of me, in which one side of me hopes that he never caught onto it, whilst another fights back hoping that he did. Why?

I give up, deciding it's best to excuse the whole confusion of trying to make Oliver not hate me entirely as simply being used to people faking their adoration to become friends with a rich CEO.

Then, I also decide to push Oliver out of my mind too after one final thought of hoping to never see him again.

Without considering the odds of yesterday, that is easily done, right?

_______

I'm almost back at my hotel after some much needed air and a peaceful walk, well, peaceful until I almost completely flatten someone when turning a corner.

I catch her in my arms as she lets out a string of apologies. I help her stand on her own two feet again as she finally looks up at me, still apologising. "Oh I'm so sorry dear, really-Oh! Michael!"

"Mrs Briggs?", I say with pleasant surprise.

She chuckles lightly with her natural joy, "Well hello again Michael, to be honest I didnt think I'd see you again. I assumed your busy self would be flying high on a plane back home by now."

I match her bright smile and shuffle to the side, allowing the surge of people to walk past. "I'm actually not leaving until Wednesday, I've got some more work left to do here in London before I leave."

"Ah, of course. Where are you off to now?", she asks with genuine interest.

"Just back to my hotel, right over there", I look up and point behind her as she follows my line of sight.

Whipping her head back roung with surprising speed she gasps out, "You really must be quite a successful young man to be staying at a place like that!"

I lower my head and rub the back of my neck as I laugh nervously. "Anyway, what about you? Where are you going today?"

"Just this lunch for work dear, I'm dreading just the thought of it. There's going to all these boring officials from the board telling me how to do my job and I can't promise to not tell them where to shove it!"

I let out a rhythmic laugh, comfortable in her presence. "How come you're going if it's so torturous?", I ask still laughing softly and heavily invested in her story.

"It's for a student that's also coming to the lunch, he's so talented in his work and I'm hoping to show it to some of the officials to help him out in a career and..." She glances down at her watch and her kind eyes widen into a state of panic. "Oh, I'm so sorry but I have to go or I'll be late".

I nod understandingly and assure her that it's alright for her to rush off, but she reaches out to my arm quickly, her eyebrows raised with sincerity. "You know, Michael, wouyld like to come with me? Only if you're not busy of course, but I think you could really help out with all your sharp expertise." She looks up at me expectantly, and I can tell how much she hopes that I agree.

Perhaps it's time to let work pile up...

"Of course, I'd really like that".

Her smile of relief warms my heart.