On a late Saturday night, when Lucy should be welcoming him with his usual hot coffee, a tight smile on her face and a fresh buddle of complaints, Aiden Carter finds himself welcomed by a dreadful silence and the news of his wife running away with h...
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'Aiden. I need to know. When was the last time you heard from Lucy?'
I fight back the urge to say something rude and heave a shaky sigh.
'Six years back. And it wasn't from her. The call was from a fisherman. He told me that Lucy had stayed there, for a freaking month, in a rot-smelling cottage, without paying the last ten day's rent. Can you believe her? I caught the next flight and flew there. It was an unknown beach in Mexico. It's pretty small. No one goes there. It's two hundred miles away from the nearest village. It's the worst place Lucy would choose to go.' I heave another impatient sigh. 'It's not like you haven't asked me this exact question and got the same answer a hundred times.'
He ignores me. His frown deepens as he taps his feet on the polished wooden floor of his office.
With frequent visits and a lot of video calls, I've come to know his office as I know my own. This guy has good taste. With the combination of comfortable seats, large windows and a lot of good fresh air, his office may not be my most favourite place, but it isn't my last either. The least I can be thankful for is the fact that I don't sweat here, and I don't have to worry about paparazzi.
'I met the man. Short, chubby, sunburnt-'
'Hairy.' I interrupt, smirking.
He rolls his eyes. 'He's a local fisherman. Sells good fish, earns clean money. What surprises me though, is why Lucy choose to live there. As much as I know her, she's fairly talkative, and always bursting with energy. She has grown up as a city girl. Why would she choose an abandoned beach? Or better, why would she live in a cottage that was living its last breath?'
I swallow a sudden lump in my throat. 'I know why. Lucy was always a hopeless romantic. She loved nature and old classic books. An abandoned beach would have been a very romantic idea. But it's the cottage that bothers me. The Lucy I know would never stay in that cottage, not for five minutes. She couldn't have stayed there for a month.
'But she did.' His eyes study mine. 'She lived there for a month. Even looked happy most of the time.'
I suck in a breath. 'You have been having a talk with that fisherman. Haven't you?'
He gets up from his chair and walks towards the window. When he turns to look back at me, his eyes look more than curious. They look sad. Maybe if I didn't try so hard to understand Lucy, I would never know. She was always a good mind reader. She spoke with eyes and listened to silence if she understood. Her voice whispers in my ears now, soft and warm.
Study eyes, not the face. Men hide expressions behind a blank face. But if you look carefully Aiden, their eyes speak a lot. When you focus on the eyes, you see sparks and darkness that you wouldn't if you don't look closely. If you use your head and your eyes at the same time, you can see the twinkle in eyes, the warmness, the soft thread of emotions willing to be understood. I see the whole universe in your eyes. They're the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. When I lock eyes with you, I feel more alive somehow.
