The Silence Within

Chapter 66

There will be an important author's note at the end of the chapter. Please read. 🙏🙏🙏

Everyone is flawed. We are all wounded in different ways.

Rain splattered a canvas upon the tinted window of the car, an array of wet trails and crystal beads of rain droplets. He listened to its beat, the way drops of water drummed against glass. There was something soothing yet disturbing about it. The incessant rhythm paved way for his thoughts to stream into his unclear mind.

Lola rejected him. He huffed, slanting in his seat to rest his head upon the cold window. She did not reject him. She had just not said those words back. He had been a fool for being hopeful, for mistaking her softness and actions the past few months as growing affection. He was stupid for misinterpreting the light in her eyes when she sees him, an idiot for getting the wrong idea about their relationship. What had he been expecting? That she would say those words back with the same tone he had used?

The unsaid pleading in her eyes had been the first cut she inflicted on him. Her sudden stiffness incised another cut. Then the disappointment that those words have been spoken widened the slash. She had risen from the bed with mock amusement in her eyes. Silently, she slipped into her dressing gown and headed for the bathroom. His eyes followed her. He had been unsteady, hated the sweat the broke free, and feared the coming negative response.

"He said the same words." She paused by the bathroom's entrance, her tone low. "Three words that made me then crushed me. He said them when we fucked like you and I just did." In her eyes were stories she never spoke about. The little stretched of her lips intensified then came a sadistic laughter, the kind that went on for long and made her shoulders tremble which worried him. She had succeeded in dipping a sword in his wound, twisting it with no mercy. What was she trying to imply? That his affections and emotions are a sham? "So, Joshua, you are not in love with me. You are turned on by me."

And he had wanted to speak, defend his feelings. But is that what he should be doing? Defending how he feels? Do people defend their emotions? With Lola, it has always been confusing and complicated when it shouldn't be. What's holding her back? He's ready to give her and show her a lot. That guy from the past had been a liar but he is not. Are you sure? His inner voice asked. She knows nearly everything about him except from that and the other one. He desires to tell her but he does not know what to expect.

"He did not love me. You can't love me. It takes time." And she was gone.

She was under the rain, drenched by the cold water, her shoulders hunched and the way she hugged her body told him of how cold she was in the pair of crazy jeans and shirt. He jogged down to her, opening the jacket he held.

"You will catch a cold." He tried to hold the umbrella, which he had to struggle with the wind for, in between his neck and shoulder as he reached out to cover her.

Lola slapped his hand away. "You are late." She tried not to slur as she brought her eyes to his, her teeth chattering.

"Now is not the time to act stubborn." He threw the jacket over her shaky shoulders, pulling it to wrap her in its warmth. "Why are you under the rain?" The scowl on his face told of his displeasure. He brought the umbrella over them. A part of her face was covered with rain drenched tresses.

"I would not be here if you had come earlier." She slammed the key to her Porsche into his hand.

"I am sorry about that. I had to round up my work." Lightening danced in the sky. Thunder growled. "You could have waited inside." His eyes were trained on her. He smelt alcohol, strong and expensive. It was in her breathe and on her clothes, mixed with the whiff of pricy fragrance. There was something else he saw which she hid beneath the alcohol. A wounded soul.