Child of The Village

# 11

They were leaning back peacefully in the bath-tub, staring at each other, studying each other's facial features. She was sitting on his lap. His big strong hand on her forehead forcing her head gently to lay back on his shoulder. She did so and then closed her eyes and folded her arms on her chest.

Her mind wandered to the algedonic experience she just had. What they had earlier was a supernova especially for her. She had seen a new horizon, a new star born, a new world discovered. She had became a different woman from she was a day before. It was a divine insight. She never thought such feeling exist let alone be one of those lucky women who get to experience that. The longer she looked at him, the deeper the bond and the feeling she had for this man. A wounded animal she was, she quickly realized that it couldn't - shouldn't - happen. She had a plan, although now it seemed like it was not a good one.

Most women would say that there is no such thing as the perfect first time. It is always awkward and weird - stupid, even - and it is only as good of a story you tell in nostalgia. But this was not. Her first time with a man was perfect in every sense, she could not ask for anything better.

Hestwick held her close and pecked her here and there. It created a tougher choice for her to choose. She realized how he worshipped her and she had never been treated this way before. He put her on a pedestal. 'This could be it.', a voice in her head said.

***

Earlier that day, Hestwick was in his office mulling over a picture on his phone. It was a candid photo of Emily taken weeks ago. She was smiling wide at a hot-dog vendor. Although she was easily pleased, her bright and sincere smile was something he rarely saw in person. It was usually either a sad smile or a politely restrained one.

He had several other uncontrived photos of her where, in most of them, she looked happy. He reckoned she enjoyed the little nice surprises life threw at her, for example when she received a rose from a shop because it was international women's day, or when she got a good deal at her favourite bookstore, or when she smiled at a stranger and they smiled back, or when she saw a beautiful sky and stopped whatever she was doing to admire and be grateful for it.

Thinking back on how far he had come in this matter, he didn't really have a solid reason when he gave her the piece of paper that day on their second meeting. His gut was utterly responsible for it, and his head created a justification for it, that he wanted to try something new, a new toy, or a new hobby.

But now he envied the hot-dog guy, or the shopkeeper at her favourite bookstore, or that stranger on the road who got the privilege. He, then, realized that he wanted to be that guy who wakes up to her smell and smile. He wanted to be the one to see her first smile every day.

It was only a few hours ago he dismissed her in that very room. Her scent still lingered and he could see the heart-rending expression on her face beneath her smile. He leaned back on his chair, his eyes closed. A scene rolled like a movie into his mind.

It brought him back to the elevator where they had met in the morning. It was rush hour and there was a long line in front of each 4 lifts taking the worker bees to their second home. He had summoned her to offer a new deal on the Barrington estate which now belonged to his company under his name.

His eyes were on alert of her sight. He went in with many other men and women in suits, and there she was dressed in a washed-pink dress with a formal grey blazer entering the same elevator. Their eyes met for a millisecond before people prodded her into the back of the elevator where his hand gently and unnoticeably guided her close so she stood right in front of him.