CHAPTER THREE : WHEN EYES MET

“We found her Mr. Smith.” I heard the woman from the other line say. “Do you want me to send her whereabouts?”

“No need, I just want to know how she's doing,” I answered.

“She's getting married.”

“Pardon?”

“We just heard that she’s getting married, Mr. Smith,” the woman repeated. “In five months time.”

“Oh,” the only word that slips through my mouth.

“Is there anything you want us to do Mr. Smith?”

“All good. Thank you.” And then I hung up. 

She finally moved on. Was it three years already? The last time I saw her?

3 years ago…

I arrived a little after dawn. The house that had been restored a few weeks ago upon the instruction of my father resembled a newly-built one. It's been five years and it seems like it was just yesterday. I never once forgot what had happened five years ago. Inside my head it hadn't been just a struggle remembering those days before my father sent me abroad, it was a battle between keeping my sanity and losing it.

It was still fresh, the wound- it never healed.

The flight this afternoon exhausted me so much that it shortened my stay at my father's house. I would've opted to spend the night at my father's house but I suddenly craved for my own space to unwind. Five years of living in self exile had turned me into a recluse. Keeping a safe distance from everyone including those I had known all my life became a way of life to me. I’ve become paranoid, there's no denying it. Returning home was the last thing I wanted to do but hearing that our company’s having its biggest problem, I know my father needs me the most right now.

I wanted to stay away permanently, away from my past. But right now the only thing in my mind right now was to collapse in my bed and rest. I took out my suitcases from the trunk and reached the keys inside my pocket when I heard a sound from across the street. I randomly searched but couldn't find anything in the area. Dismissing the sound that I've heard, I checked on the door keys and found my way to the gate through the faint light emitted by a lone street lamp.

I was about to step in when I heard another sound coming again. Realizing what it was, my heart began to throb. I glanced over my shoulder and saw an image emerging from the dark.

A petite woman with her dark long hair covering half of her face in a faded shirt hanging loosely over a pair of jeans, stood boldly across me holding a knapsack in her hand, staring at me in the cold of the night.

My face turned pale when our eyes met.  I immediately recognized that pair of dark brown eyes beneath those wispy uneven fringes, that full lips that had me fooled too many times. I quickly reached for my mobile phone inside my pocket. “What do you want?” I asked as I dialled 911, “I said what do you want?” I waited for her to answer but she kept mum.

She started to cross the street with the knapsack in one hand, her eyes lowering to the ground, completely avoiding my cold stares. “I'm calling the police if you take another step.” She didn’t seem to hear my threat, instead she kept on walking until she was kneeling only inches away from me with her face looking straight at the ground.

That's it, I'm calling the police. I pressed the call button. “Hello? I'm reporting a case of harassment. I need some police assistance right now. Please come as soon as possible,” I pleaded to the operator before hanging up.

Without another word, without another look, I picked up my suitcases and walked into my house.

The Police arrived a couple of minutes after my call. They found her still kneeling in front of my house and immediately grabbed her back collar and shoved her to the wall. One of the police officers twisted her arms to the back while the other questioned her identity in the form of verbal assault. I can see that she’s still keeping her mouth shut. I saw the other officer hit her leg with a metal club which caused her to drop instantly to her knees, her whimpers reverberating in the air. I can see it all from my bedroom's window, the manhandling, the physical abuse and most distinctly her vapid response.

Her faint cries jolted me from where I stood for it was I sight I could never stomach. I hurriedly went out to the street again and appealed to the police to leave her in my custody. “I'm really sorry, it was just a mere lovers' spat and the phone call I made was out of an unsuppressed rage,” I apologized. It was made in such full remorse as I reiterated her innocence.

“Are you sure?” the police officer asked, “You really know this woman?” the police officer seems to have doubted me. I nodded.

“I'm really sorry for the trouble.” With the retraction in their way, the police officers could do nothing else but issue a warning and remind me to use all means to settle domestic disputes before turning to them.

“Please settle your issues first before turning into us,” the police officer said before leaving.

There was an unbearable silence after the police had left. I picked up her bulging knapsack and threw it on her lap. “Leave,” I simply said. Aching to get away from her, I quickly turned around to head back inside my house.

I was about to close the gate when she spoke, “Can I stay?”

“What did you just say?”

She swallowed hard and stared directly at my eyes before repeating what she said, “Can I stay?  I- I need a place to stay,” she stutters.

I smirked in total disbelief. “And you're actually expecting me to let you stay with me? In the house?” I dug my hands into my pockets while sighing in disbelief. “You've fooled me once, you've messed up my life, and now you have the gall to come and ask if you can stay with me?” my sarcasm mirrored the unceasing bitterness inside me, “It's unbelievable how you’d dare show your face to me again. You could've at least disappeared in my life forever.” I shook my head. “What you've done is unforgivable.”

Again, she kept mum. She didn't budge and remained passive to my aggression.

“What now? You've escaped from the prison?”

“I'm out on parole,” she answered.

“Five years? Didn't anyone make an appeal? Oh, I forgot, you could easily work your way out with your deadly charms whenever you want.” I gazed up at the night sky and mockingly said, “You're not the queen of deception for nothing.”

“I'm going to stay with a friend. But I have to wait until she comes back from her trip abroad. I need a temporary place to stay until then.”

“Here.” I reached for my wallet, took out some bills and threw it on her face. “Get lost,” I said, “Permanently,” I ended.

“Please, only for a few days. I promise, I won't harm you.” She begged while clutching the knapsack to her chest, shivering in tears. “I won't risk losing my freedom again.”

“Why me?”

“I don't trust anyone but you.”

I laughed. “I don't trust anyone too, most- especially you.”

“Please, just this once,  I promise I will leave as soon as my friend comes back.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks and something at that moment caught me off guard. I saw the back of her hands filled with scars, some were visible and some were pale. It was a testament to the kind of life she had inside the prison and I hated how it hit me right in the gut. No matter how I tried, I just couldn't shake off the scene of what I had witnessed earlier which I knew could be nowhere near to what she had been through in those five years of imprisonment. I hate myself for taking pity on her.

As the chilling wind began to blow, I walked into the house quietly, leaving the door wide open.

“Lock the gate.” 

A phone call distracted me from my thoughts of the past, “Hello?” I answered.

“Hey Nick! It's Carlo,” Carlo was one of my closest friends, “Have you heard?”

“What?” I asked.

“Bro, our Mikan is getting married. After three years of no show, this is what we're going to get?” Carlo laughed at the other line. “He had lots of explaining to do.”

“He does,” I simply answered and then ended the call. Mikan's getting married? With who? The last time I saw him was three years ago. Mikan's my best friend by the way. Seriously that guy,  I wonder what he's up to. 

A few seconds later after the call, someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” I said.

“Mr. Smith, you have mail,” my secretary said as she handed me the envelope.

“Thank you, you may leave.” I gestured for her to leave my office. I stared at the envelope for a moment. It was a wedding invitation of Mikan Grey and Hailey Green, “Hailey Greene?!” I exclaimed in disbelief.

Mikan is marrying Hailey? What is this? A joke?