15.06 (#2)

Chapter 5

I arrived at The East Pole Kitchen early and chose a spot where I couldn't see the door. I didn't want to be tempted to leave before she came. I closed my eyes to compose myself. I didn't think I would be that nervous to meet her, my leg was shaking and my hands were sweaty. A familiar perfume wafted past me as I took in a deep breath. I could feel her presence before I saw her and that unnerved me because I still knew her, some part of her.

I opened my eyes and there she was, sitting across from me all perfect, just how I remembered. Her previously dark curly hair had returned to its original light colour and fell neatly down her chest in soft waves. Her mismatched eyes shone brightly, enhanced by the eye make up she had on. The pale cheeks that I remembered were now full, tinged with colour. The low cut blouse she had on revealed her collar bones, but they weren't as prominent as before.

All in all she looked... "You look good." I told her.

"Thanks. You still not own a comb?" She shot me a small smile.

"Stop. Stop you can't come here and joke with me." I told her.

"Yeah, you're right. Sorry. Might as well cut to the chase." She told me straightforwardly.

"Why did you leave? Not the bullshit you wrote in the letter. The real reason you couldn't even tell me you were leaving."

"You read the letters?" Her eyes were surprised.

"You always do this! You avoid the question with another question." I was getting annoyed, this conversation wasn't going the way I wanted it to.

"Every letter I wrote was the truth. I wrote you a letter every month I just couldn't work up the courage to send it. My life was messed up, always has been and coming to New York just overcomplicated it."

"I thought you were happy."

"I was and that was what was wrong. I was too happy. I joined John Weston to keep my head down and work my way to NYU. Then you came and I was confused. I didn't know what I wanted anymore. When I started to like you I knew I was in trouble because every person I loved died and I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't live up to your love, I didn't deserve the attention you gave. I still don't understand why you did what you did. I was just an orphaned girl from Oregon with a troubled past that was going to catch up with her someday and I didn't want you, any of you, to get caught up in the cross hairs of my life. I didn't want to taint your future with my past and possibly my future. You moved to NYU to be with me, when the culinary program was better in California. If I told you about London what would you have done?"

"I would have... I would have moved to London." I realised what I had wanted.

"Exactly! You had spent your whole life in New York and you were just making progress with your family there was no way I was going to allow you to uproot your life for someone you knew for only a year." She explained.

"So why are you here now?" I asked.

"Donny is getting married in a week. I came because I'm his daughter and I'm the maid of honor."

"Speaking of daughters..." She sighed.

"Olivia isn't your daughter." Rori admitted.

"Then who's the father?" I asked, my heart squeezed painfully. There was a hope that she was mine so that we could be the family that I had dreamed of. I guess Rori moved on, made her perfect family and left me in the dirt while she sailed off into the sunset with her new lover.

"I don't know." She muttered. Doesn't know? Her statement made my blood boil and the anger that I had taken care not to surface was appearing.

"How many men have you fucked that you don't remember who the father to your daughter is? You're sick Rori. You're right, you were messed up I guess nothing has changed. You're still the fucked up girl I fell in love with. Well here's the thing Rori. I'm not the same naive guy I was six years, I'm not going to fall into the same trap you created when we were 18. I'm not going to fall in love with you again." There were tears in her eyes and I knew I had hurt her. The girl I knew didn't cry; those were just crocodile tears, falling to mess me up again. I stood up to leave, to angry and upset to want to talk to her.