Lost in their Past

Chapter 22:- The Tape

"Your Knuckles hurt?" Charlus questioned as he pushed back a chunk of her hair. "Didn't you laugh when you got shot?"

"I'm old!" Grace whined as she retreated, still sobbing. "Now, even getting a splinter hurts!"

Charlus glared at the brunette for a moment. He sighed as he folded his arms, Grace wasn't weak by any means. She was one of the strongest people he knew, but the weeping lady sitting next to said otherwise. "What's really going on?" he asked as he gave her one of Lark's expensive handkerchief.

Grace sobbed as she blew her nose in it, yep, this woman was definitely her. "N-Nothing," she said as tears flew from her eyes. "There I was, s-sitting h-here alone, think-thinking about everything! With Mark dead and-and me being a terrible mother, I'm gonna die alone!"

You ain't the only one, he wanted to say. The things that she'd just said applied to him too, he was a terrible parent and he was gonna die alone. But he wasn't crying, why? Because he'd learned to accept his sad truth years ago.

"There is one soulmate for everyone," Charlus said as he awkwardly put his hand behind Grace's back. "I'm sure you'll meet yours ."

Grace darted her sapphire eyes towards Charlus for a moment and he did the same. There was a time when the simple thought of imagining the current scenario would make her cringe. But now, she guessed that time had changed everything. She no longer had the uncontrolled urge to stab his eyes or seal his lips to stop his sexist remarks. Currently, she felt overwhelmed, like her heart was in the right place. His words were true, there was a soulmate for everyone, could, he be hers?

"... it is a good thing I found mine." Charlus suddenly said, without giving it a second thought. "I mean... Bethany, the love of my life."

Grace's conscience laughed at her, there was no one for her.  She couldn't help but be the envy of Bethany, even dead, people adored and loved her. Grace never had that, her parents loathed her, her relationship with Mark was a disaster, and Charlus, her forbidden fruit was still hung up on his dead wife. Grace was born alone and would die alone.

Grace heaved a sigh as she stood up, "Thanks," she said sweetly.

"Anytime,"

She smiled placidly and went out of the door, closing it behind her. Charlus silently groaned as he dropped still on the bed. 

Did I just ruin my only chance with Grace? He asked himself.

He buried his fist in the sofa cushion and let out a soft scream. 

Yep, he definitely did.

In the dining room, below, Joanne and Grace were helping Delia prepare a meal. Fortunately, both of them actually knew what they were doing. An uncomfortable silence was spread in the kitchen, Grace and Joanne couldn't stand each other and so, to prevent conflict, their mouths were shut and Delia knew that Grace was furious at her, she couldn't risk breaking the fragile balance in which Grace currently stood on, especially not in a kitchen which was filled with murder weapons.

"So," Joanne stated, risking the fragile balance. "Strange that our kids know each other, right?"

Delia hurriedly agreed, "Yes, I met Dawn before, she's a lovely gal."

Joanne proudly smiled, "Yep, raised this one right."

Just then, Grace picked the butchers knife and stuck it intensely on the chopping board, again and again, rattling the rest to their hinges.

Joanne sweat dropped nervously, her hands fumbled around the cooking pot which she was supposed to take off a minute ago. Delia sensed the hostility that flew past them like steam, she took a deep breath and said, "I've met with Serena, s-she's a lovely girl too." Grace continued to cut the dough with the butcher's knife, ignoring Delia's words.