That One November Night

Chapter 22: I'm going to love you

Her chauffeur was familiar. The same banged up car that he drove when I first and last saw him. This time however, a new expression was craftily painted upon his face. Purposeful perhaps, nothing that I could make out though; something had had caused him anger or stress. Maybe both? To me, Robert had seemed like a friend, an alley. Now though, his feelings towards me appeared like his hatred towards Travis, engraved in stone with a colossal middle finger illustration beside it. All that I could do was question why he now felt differently towards me or sit back and say nothing.

I wasn't there to make friends with Mr Robert Colby again. Nor was I there for a cuppa, instead I was eager to identify her reason for wanting to see me all of a sudden. Why the words she chose? The first time that she had even used the word 'love' towards me was roughly half an hour ago through a text.

Time for some answers.

From where I was sat, on an abandoned tire next to two beaten up rusted barrels of oil, his car halted after it had done a U-turn on the dead-end sheet of broken road. From the far side, the passenger seat door swung open, both I and the driver watched as she placed one foot out of the car. Oh how she teased as she lifted herself from the vehicle.

Like fate had brought us to this moment. Almost the opposite of déjà vu, I hadn't ever thought that this would be a thing. Meeting Miss Colby at the back of a field where all the neglected waste comes to rot. Truly romantic. At the very least, we would be alone this time.

Lifting up my head, only just being able to see her hand placed like an angel's kiss on the car door. It took her a second to do it but once Guinevere finally shut the door her eyes made no connection with mine as she turned to face me.

Peering back into the car she made a minuscule gesture. A nod. Nothing more. Nothing less. Dislocated away from the stretch of road Robert left us alone together with nothing short of goodbye. It was clear that he wasn't in the mood for small talk. Neither was I, so I was thankful.

Getting to my feet as she strutted to me I tried not to notice her attire and instead kept myself from throwing myself at her like I wanted to. In a low husky tone she greeted me, "Hello Connor. You're looking well." Her hands were in the pockets of the exorbitant oversized jacket (I could work out that it wasn't hers just by scanning it) she looked at me lustfully but I tried to deny this act, pretend that I had just imagined it. Keeping one foot against the tire, "Are you going to explain then or what?"

Rolling her eyes almost playfully the doll before me spoke, "straight down to it then Romeo? You haven't changed at all."

With one shoulder lifted, I shrugged, "Well you can be quite blunt yourself".

Every muscle on my face throbbed from the laceration inflicted by avoiding the temptation to smile. I should be mad at her! I wanted to be angry at how she left me hanging but I hadn't quite been an image of God either, this girl had such an impact on me that it was hard not to believe her. The thoughts and feelings which she had given me flooded my head once more.

The specimen hadn't grown much. If at all. There was a wedge on her shoes but not a high enough heel to have her even come close to my height. I liked it that way though, always did.

As I gestured for us to walk a little further in for more privacy, I noticed that the lipstick she was wearing wasn't quite the same, lighter than the one she used to wear. Even the halter neck climbing above the jacket made it prohibitively obvious that she wasn't allowing anything to show. Probably more bruises. Why would I know that? It was kind of hard not to notice, she had gone from wearing short yellow dresses to high neck long sleeved black tops - I knew what he was capable of even if she would try and cover it up for him.