When We Met

Forty Two

|Donovan|

"Yes, mother. I won't be available for the weekend and yes, the cell service will make sure that I do not lie about this." I swallow my very last sigh of patience. If she doesn't stop, I will burst. I take a sip of the cold coffee Dylan brewed for me ten minutes ago and lean against the balcony railing. The weather is calm and beautiful, unlike my mood.

"And why are you suddenly traveling off to a jungle, might I ask?" Her tone is clipped with annoyance. "We were thinking you should come back. There are some good guys we want you to meet and get to know."

What?

Is this why she suddenly gave me a call? To suggest that I should "meet" new guys and get married for a happily ever after?!

She is infuriating.

"a) it's not a jungle, and b) I have a boyfriend."

She tsks at the line and I roll my eyes. I know that she never approved of my previous boyfriends, but that's because her judgmental guard is always up. That is particularly why I didn't want to live with her anymore. Or father, for that matter. She's at least subtle about her dislike when there is company. Father never holds back and goes all ballistic when he wants to express his harsh feelings towards someone.

"A boyfriend who will break your heart inevitably." She says nonchalantly.

I was wrong about her being subtle, I guess.

I stop breathing for one second. It's not what she said, but it's the way she said it. Like, she doesn't even feel bad for me because she knows I'm a mess-up, and I'll only ever attract the wrong lot of men. My move out of the house was a shocker for her and father, I understand. I understand that she didn't want her only child to leave her alone and deprive her of said child's growing experiences. But regardless of why I moved out, she could've at least tried to show some support. Instead, she kept blaming me for going downhill, blaming me for all my minimal breakups, blaming me for the Jake incident. She blames me for her arguments with father.

I feel sick to my stomach.

There's a light knock on the balcony door and Dylan peeps out of it, concern evident on his face.

A boyfriend who will break your heart inevitably.

No.

He'll never do that. He loves me.

Jake loved you too, you know?

No, he didn't. It was evident and I was blind enough to not notice. If I weren't whipped by his fake charm and gag-worthy chivalry, I would've been able to catch him in his act. Yes, I would have. I'm not that dumb.

On the other hand, Dylan is a beautiful, pure and genuine man. He makes sure that people around him are loved, comfortable and happy. I can see it in his eyes; I can see his love for me without him having to confess it again and again. We don't go on multiple romantic dates like other notorious couples because we don't need a temporary spark to add fuel to a relationship that is already burning with passion. We are fully capable of lightening up our time inside this freaking box apartment.

Hell, we are like a long term couple without making the big move of moving in together. I really respect that. And so does Dylan.

"You know nothing about me or my relationship, mother." I snap after a long pause as Dylan mouths are you okay to me. I smile at him with full confidence and mouth back I love you. He takes two steps and holds me by my waist, planting a soft kiss on my forehead.

"I know enough, Cheryl. You have always made repulsive decisions when it comes to relationships, and nothing will change that." She snaps back. When Dylan starts moving towards the door, I grab his hand and pull him back towards me. He obliges as I take his arms and wrap them around my waist. He sighs contently and hugs me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder and kissing my cheek. I smile again and lean into his muscular chest.