Lost in madness

45

I step into the subway, my mind swirling with confusion and a touch of irritation, I'm not sure why I agreed to this or why one word from this man has me following every command. I should have refused and walked but here I am, dreading my every decision up until this point.

But Andrew riding the subway has to be something out of a comic book. The sight of him here, so out of place in his designer clothes and flashy Rolex, almost makes me laugh. But I force my face into a scowl, determined to maintain my facade of angertowards him.

As we settle in our seats, I can't help but notice the other passengers stealing glances at us.

It feels like we're the opening scene of some cheesy romantic comedy. Andrew sits across from me, grinning like an idiot, and I feel my patience wearing thin.

"You look like a creep," I mutter, loud enough for him to hear, "Quit staring."

He doesn't seem fazed. Instead, his grin only grows wider, making me even more irritated.

"Can you stop?" I warn him, my voice low and tense.

To my surprise, Andrew turns to the elderly lady sitting next to him and says, "She's the love of my life."

I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment as the woman looks at me and smiles kindly. "You're lucky. She's very pretty," she replies softly.

"I know." He muttered to himself, seemingly oblivious to my discomfort. "She's mad at me. You see, I screwed up, a lot of times, and now I'm about to lose her."

The woman's eyes soften with understanding. "Are you sorry?" she asks him.

"Very," Andrew admits, his voice heavy. "But I think it's too late now. I really screwed up this time. Got any tips for me?"

I bit my lips and try not to react, my heart is doing a million things right now.

I watch as the woman leans in close to Andrew, whispering something in his ear that I can't quite catch. My curiosity piques, and I find myself straining to hear their conversation.

"Are you sure?" Andrew asks, his eyes wide with something. Perhaps, hope.

"Anyone with eyes can tell." the woman says, and Andrew's face lights up as he turns to look at me. I quickly avert my gaze, pretending to be disinterested. Thankfully, the train comes to a stop, saving me from any further awkwardness.

As we exit the subway car, Andrew surprises me by hugging the elderly woman before reaching for my hand. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through me, and I have to remind myself that I'm supposed to be angry with him.

"What did she whisper to you?" I ask, unable to contain my curiosity.

"I thought you didn't care," he teases, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I care when the topic is about me," I shoot back, my defenses rising.

"And who said I was referring to you? I could be talking about my wife, Sally," he counters, his tone playful.

"That's low, even for you."

"Are you jealous?" he asks, his voice tinged with hope, "Am I right? You're jealous."

"I have a fiancé," I remind him firmly, trying to ignore the way my heart skips a beat at his question.

"Right," he mutters, his smile fading slightly, "What's so great about him?"

"For one, he's not married to my cousin."

He laughs, "That's a low blow, but fair, I deserve that. But honestly, what's so great about him?"

"He loves me."

"I love you more."

"He loves me enough to stay, with him I feel secure. I don't have to worry about him disappearing before I wake up."

It's only then that I realize we're still holding hands. I quickly snatch my hand away, feeling a mix of guilt and longing. "I'm not even allowed that much anymore," Andrew says softly. "You used to love when I held your hands. I have several pictures of us holding hands in high school."

His words bring back a flood of memories, and I have to steel myself against the wave of nostalgia. "That was high school," I reply, my voice tight. "We're grown-ups now. You're married and, and I'm engaged. That's our reality."

Andrew's eyes lock onto mine, his gaze intense. "In my reality, you're still the love of my life and I get to hold your hand."

I feel my resolve weakening, but I force myself to stay strong. "Sometimes, love is just not enough," I mutter, more to convince myself than him.

We come to a stop in front of a beautiful Victorian house, the kind you'd expect to see in an old movie about military families. Andrew rings the doorbell, and I can't help but ask, "Where are we?"

Before he can answer, the door flies open, and two little girls burst out, throwing themselves at Andrew. "You're late, and you didn't come to our play!" they scold him, dragging him inside.

I follow slowly, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The walls are lined with pictures I don't recognize, and an eerie quiet settles over me as Andrew disappears with the girls. For a moment, I wonder if I've made a terrible mistake in coming here.

Just as my imagination starts to run wild with worst-case scenarios, a woman appears. She's dressed in an elegant white dress, her hair swept up in a perfect bun. My first thought is how gorgeous she is.

"You must be Andrew's special friend," she says warmly.

I can't help but chuckle at her choice of words. "That's another way to put it," I reply, trying to mask my confusion.

"Come, I made biscuits," she offers, leading me into a spacious kitchen.

As we enter, she continues, "Sorry about the girls. Once they get hold of him, it's hard to let break them apart."

The strangeness of the situation finally overwhelms me, and I have to ask, "Wait, not to be rude, but who are you?"

Her eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry! My name is Mercury, but you can call me Cury like most people prefer....." She stops and I raise an eyebrow, "I'm Andrew's mother. Didn't he tell you?"

The revelation hits me like a ton of bricks.