Galaxies Ahead

Chapter 5

           

My stomach turned upside down and resembled how I felt merely two evenings ago. My exhaustiveness ceased to exist yet I wasn't excessively glad about it, as air seemed to stick to the sides of my throat and block my breath. My throat tightened and instantly felt drier, even though I drank almost an entire bottle of water prior.

I shouldn't have reacted in this way though, Patrick was quite known for a wild variety of things. One of the most common, however, was most definitely the size of his and his family's bank account. As well as the time his mother threw a fiesta for all her rich friends, which she said was just a normal party, yet as the music played on and the drinks spread out, many people noticed an eerie vibe.

That of course turned out to be the fact that the party was not for her nor her friends, yet for her son, as her intention was to invite all rich, beautiful women who gave birth to rich, beautiful daughters in hopes that Patrick would pick one.

And yet he picked me. For reasons I cannot fathom.

'Miss?' Spoke the woman once more, putting a stop to my train of thought. I took in a deep breath, my chest opening up and tightening as though it filled with smoke that wasn't even there. I returned my attention to current events. Had I not met this woman before?

Her eyes deemed sparkling, the shade of a spring/summer field, with hints of varied coloured flowers. Her hair brown, yet golden in the light. Her fringe was short and pristine, skin tanned and decorated with fine freckles that sprinkled over her cheeks and nose, some flattering on her wrists and hands.

I thought of a name to try and pair the face to it but my brain seemed to cease and I was once again blank. 'I'm sorry, yes. Yes, I am. May I help you?'

'Oh no, don't stress yourself. I just felt an urge like I have seen you with him at one point.' She took a pause to think, or I supposed so, before adding, 'is there any chance I have perhaps seen you at Mrs. Wilshire's birthday fiesta?'

For long I had wondered why these people called it a fiesta instead of a party, a gathering or a celebration, yet I had come to the conclusion that it must be because it sounds posh and intelligent, which is the reason for use of nearly anything their sort. And so I wondered about what she had asked me. I once again sucked in a ton of air before replying.

'Yes, I was with him. We were a couple... back then' I had regretted it as soon as it left me, but her eyes widened and I knew this would be a topic of our conversation.

'Back then? I'm so sorry, how long ago did it end?' She asked, her eyebrows arching.

'Merely two days ago, really.' I had replied, and kindness returned to me. She was curious and eager, I should tell her whatever she might want to know. Patrick will not be a part of my life once I get over it, and so what's it to me?

'Oh I'm so sorry to have touched up on it so soon...' I could see how intrigued she had become. What's it to me? My head repeated that damned phrase once more.

'I suppose you want to know how. I can say only two words on this matter; his mother.' I had smiled when I said it, but when it clicked in her head she threw her head back up as laughter interrupted whatever she wanted to say prior, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I joined in for a brief moment, before slowing down to catch up with her.

'Oh, she's awful ain't she?' she now spoke in a loose tone, a calm and friendly way without all that posh crap. I rejoiced on that matter, and on the fact that she hated her too. I breathed out all air I seemed to vacuum in from the place, genuine laughter sprouting from between my lips and leaning over to her too once more.

'The worst.' I exclaimed. In the remaining time we had until our flight would take off, which we found we shared, we shared stories of his mother, her rudeness and pity. I told her about the fiesta for her son, where we met as I served to help my mother, who was a maid at the time. I mentioned the romantic holiday and failure of the proposal, the devastation that occurred primarily afterwards.

And she had shared how Mrs. Wilshire ruined her sixth birthday party as Patrick's greedy sister screamed and demanded the party be surrounded around her, which her mother agreed on to calm down her child unsuccessfully. I had laughed at nearly all the things she said, for it painted Patrick's mother as the monster I had seen her as.

Time flew, and before we knew it, our flight was being called and we were instructed to board. We sat next to each other, and in a turn of events, I found myself being thankful everything had played out this way, for I had been promised a job to where I was going. A job in New York.