58

[REBECCA]
“How much longer do I have to keep this charade going?” I questioned, the weariness evident in my voice.
Lynda settled herself next to me, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. “You have to make him work for it,” she replied calmly.
“I don’t think I can maintain this facade any longer,” I confessed, the weight of the situation pressing on me.
“Just a little while longer,” Lynda reassured me, her words carrying a glimmer of hope.
Ever since the Bernadette incident, Lynda had taken it upon herself to lecture me for hours on end, outlining the dos and don’ts of my interactions with Artemy. Each day became a constant struggle to appear indifferent in his presence.
Whenever he smiled at me and I failed to reciprocate, a wave of guilt washed over me. It was clear that he was losing hope and growing increasingly frustrated. I desperately hoped that Lynda’s plan would work, and that all the drama we had orchestrated would not be in vain.
I sat up, drawing my knees to my chest and resting my chin on top of them. “Lynda, I don’t understand. How is any of this going to work? I… I actually like him,” I stumbled over my own words, the admission difficult to articulate but undeniably true.
“What do you mean? If you want him and he feels the same way about you, what’s stopping you?” Lynda questioned, her voice tinged with confusion.
With a heavy sigh, I rose from the bed and positioned myself in front of the window, seeking solace in the outside world. “How does a real relationship even function?” I pondered aloud, realizing that what I had with Raffaele had been far from a healthy partnership. I was clueless about what it meant to truly be in a relationship.
The relationships I had read about in books or seen on television were distant dreams, never a part of my own reality. They were something I yearned for but could never quite grasp.
“You’ve never been in a relationship before?” Lynda inquired, her forehead creased with confusion as she patiently waited for me to explain.
I closed my eyes tightly, attempting to quell the surge of pain that washed over me. Placing my hand against the cool glass of the window, I sought stability and tried to slow down my racing heart. “I have been in one,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Lynda’s expression revealed her bewilderment as she stared at me, encouraging me to share more.
“But it was nothing like the relationships portrayed in those books,” I gestured towards the novel in her hand. “I don’t even think you could call it a relationship. He caused me a great deal of pain.”
Tears welled up, clouding my vision. I never imagined I would admit such a thing. When I was still with Raffaele, I convinced myself that our tumultuous dynamic was the norm for a relationship. Despite knowing it was wrong, I accepted it, unable to fathom anything better.
My relationship with Raffaele was a mess, causing damage to every part of me-my heart, my body, and my soul. But since I started living with Artemy, things began to change. I started to believe that maybe, just maybe, I could be repaired and find happiness again. Perhaps Artemy was the one who could make me happy.
“Becca,” Lynda called out, rising from her seat and coming over to me. As tears streamed down my face, I was about to wipe them away, but she beat me to it. Leaning in, she planted a gentle kiss on my forehead and then enveloped me in a warm embrace.
Pulling away slightly, she gave me a faint smile, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. “A relationship… well,” she mused, her eyes sparkling. “I would say it’s when both partners support and comfort each other, bringing happiness and laughter into each other’s lives. It’s a connection filled with love, acceptance, and understanding. You don’t necessarily have to be in love with someone to be in a relationship. Love can develop over time. Artemy may be stubborn, but he’s crazy about you. I can see it in his eyes, so clearly. He has emotions, but he’s afraid of them. However, you can change that. You can be his source of strength.”
“He’s mine,” I whispered. “He is my strength.”
“Artemy will realize it soon. And when he does, he won’t be able to stay away from you. Heck, he can’t even stay away from you now. Have you noticed how he always follows you around like a little puppy? Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best comparison. Artemy is far from being a little puppy.”
I chuckled at Lynda’s comment.
“We just need to wait for him to take action,” Lynda suggested.
“He has been trying to approach me for the past three days,” I confessed. Artemy had made multiple attempts to initiate a conversation.
“Well, he needs to step up his game then. If you catch my drift,” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows mischievously.
“Lynda!”
She shrugged. “No, seriously. Maybe he should bring you flowers again or just go for another kiss. This man is driving me insane.”
I couldn’t imagine going through this without Lynda. She always knew how to lift my spirits.
“So, we wait,” I declared, a smile spreading across my face.
She winked, and we both burst into laughter.
Yes, I would wait because I needed Artemy.
Stepping into the piano room, I entered with anticipation, waiting for Artemy to arrive. He was never late; he had an impeccable sense of punctuality. Every time, without fail, he would be there at exactly ten o’clock.
I had the ability to play the piano by myself, but I chose not to. I wanted to reserve my performance for him, to create a moment where I could bask in the warmth of his presence as he watched me play. So, I stood there, sighing softly, and glanced at my phone to check the time. Any minute now, he would walk through that door.
However, something unexpected caught my eye, diverting my attention from the passing minutes. My gaze shifted towards the sofa chair I usually occupied, and I couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp. In shock, my hand instinctively rose to cover my mouth, yet my lips formed an uncontrollable smile.
Resting on the seat of the chair was a single white peony. I bent down slightly, reaching out to take the delicate flower into my hand. Bringing it close to my chest, I straightened up, clutching it tightly.
Artemy.
He was such a sweetheart.
I couldn’t believe he had placed the peony there for me. It wasn’t an extravagant bouquet; just a solitary peony held deep significance. Its presence caused my heart to flutter, and my cheeks were beginning to ache from the wide grin on my face.
“I can safely assume that you love the peony,” a voice suddenly spoke.
My eyes widened, and I swiftly turned around to find Artemy leaning against the door, his arms crossed over his chest. He tilted his head slightly, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.
Part of me wanted to protest against that smirk, but deep down, I couldn’t help but admit that I adored it.
Trying to conceal my joy, I replied, “I…” I hesitated momentarily, then let out a sigh. I couldn’t lie to him. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”
Slowly, Artemy began walking towards me, his eyes fixed on me with intensity. As he drew nearer, my heart raced and my stomach twisted with a flurry of butterflies, a sensation that always accompanied his proximity.
Artemy halted right in front of me, his presence radiating warmth against my exposed skin. I lifted my gaze, met with his towering figure that seemed to reach the heavens.
His eyes bore into mine, filled with an unmistakable longing that sent a surge of electricity through my veins. Instinctively, I moistened my lips with a nervous flick of my tongue. Artemy closed the distance, drawing nearer until there was barely an inch separating us. I inhaled deeply, causing our chests to lightly brush against each other.
His hand ascended, his finger delicately tracing the length of my bare arm. A shiver coursed through me, causing my fingers to grip the bouquet of flowers tightly.
“Artemy…” I murmured, his name escaping my lips.
“Rebecca,” he whispered, lowering his head.
We locked eyes for a fleeting moment, and then he leaned in, his lips tantalizingly close to mine. “I’m going to kiss you,” he confessed.
“Okay,” I responded, my voice barely a breath.