Aileen
“Why do you bring him up all the time? Do you really like him or something?” His words made my blood boil. I really can’t deal with his petty jealousy anymore.
Why does Dave have to be such a blockhead? I find it hard to believe he’s older than me. He’s behaving like a teenager in a rebellious phase now.
“Maybe he didn’t get to experience his rebellious phase, that’s why he’s going through it right now,” Kiki mused. “All because of his jealousy.”
It’s not a funny matter, Kiki! You’ve seen how he is. And he’s only getting worse with time.
He also went through a rebellious phase as a teenager. The Professor told me stories about their college days. He was very popular among women. And here he gets jealous when I hang out with boys. Double standards, it seems.
“You two are really hard to deal with,” Kiki grunted. “Don’t come to me for help.”
As if you are helping anyway? Help me with my studies if you can.
“Nah, I don’t want to use my wisdom to help you with your studies. It’s not for me. Help yourself.”
I heaved a sigh, looking down at the books before me. Why the hell am I studying on my day off?
I’m supposed to relax and have fun, but I can’t because I’m angry and upset, and just a sorry won’t make up for it.
Suddenly, the knock on my door drew my attention.
“Yes?”
“M’lady, I’m here to clean the room. Mind opening the door?”
“Uh, it’s open come inside.”
Rita came inside with a broom and a bucket with a mop in hand.
She looked around and asked, “Is there anything you want me to throw away? Or move them to the store room for additional space?”
“Uh, no. My room was rearranged not long ago, I like how things are in their original places.”
“I see, Alright then. I’ll start cleaning. You can do what you were doing. I won’t trouble you.”
I gave a nod and just decided to read through the pages briefly.
I didn’t give a thought to where she was cleaning. Only when I saw her cleaning near the bookshelves, my heart almost leaped out of my chest.
I jumped out of my chair the very minute yelling, “No! You can’t do that!”
She dropped the broom out of shock.
I rushed over to her side the very minute.
“What? I was just trying to clean up the corner of the bookshelves. They tend to be full of dust,” she added, picking up the broom.
“Yes, I can see that,” I murmured to myself. “But, I can’t let you clean here.”
“Huh?” she stared at me puzzled.
“I mean, you don’t need to clean here. I clean here three times a week. You can go and clean somewhere else,” I stuttered.
“Oh? You do?” she reached out her hand and wiped off the sides with her fingers and a thick layer of dust came out in one swipe.
She turned around to show it to me. “To me, it doesn’t seem like you clean it three times a week. Or else, why would there be so much dirt, right?”
Oh no! I’m busted!
“Unfortunately, I need to clean this. You can’t stop me!” she replied, before reaching out her hand to pull out books with both hands ruthlessly.
“No! Don’t clean this!” I pleaded.
“I’m just going to take out the books and clean the shelf thoroughly. What’s the problem here?” she replied, quite blandly.
That’s the problem here in the first place! She pulled out two books then she started pulling some more books within a few seconds.
No, at this rate she’ll find it any minute. I need to stop her! I can’t let her expose me like this so fast and at this time!
What should I do?
“You are a bit weird Miss sometimes, telling me not to clean up the shelf. What if you get an infectious disease from living in the dirt for too long? It’s not hygienic, is it?” she comments, as her hands move fast at the speed of light.
“Why are you so afraid of cleaning anyway?”
My heartbeat rate was going up with each passing second. My hands went cold, thinking about the consequences afterward.
No, I can’t keep standing here like this. I need to do something. If she finds it in the book, she’s surely going to read a line from it.
What should I do? What should I do?
Without any thought, I just grabbed her by the hand. And pleaded hard, “Rita! Please, you don’t need to clean the shelf. I can do it myself. Go and clean somewhere else.”
“But, your shelf is dirty. How can I leave it like this? Please let go of my hand so I can finish work fast,” she grunted, pushing my hand away.
“I’m telling you, I will clean it myself. You don’t need to do it!” I begged with tears in my eyes.
“But, why? Why can you clean it but not me? What’s inside this bookshelf? Just regular books, isn’t there?”
Yes, regular books, if you just ignore the fact I’m hiding my secret among the books, there’s really nothing special here.
“Or are you hiding some sort of a secret treasure in here that you don’t want me to find out while cleaning?” she remarks, glancing in my direction with a suspicious look.
My feet grew cold, and my temperature was dropping horribly.
“Uh, no…. what kind of treasures would I have there? Just some childhood stuff that I still keep in my room. And they are very precious to me, That’s why I’m telling you to not touch them,” I replied.
“Childhood stuff? I understand. I’ll make sure not to harm any of them. I promise.”
Who’s going to tell her now?
But, she’s not listening. And if I act suspiciously, she’s going to check all the books thoroughly. I’m walking down a narrow road with no way out.
How to stop her?
Just when she was about to reach out for the pink book in the mid-section, I went to stand right in front of the bookshelf.
She looked puzzled and a bit irritated. “I’m doing my job here. Can you please get out of my way? You are starting to disturb me now.”
“Uh, no, You know what? I can clean the rest of the shelf myself. Or I can take out the books so you can clean them. How does that sound?”
She thought over it for a second before giving me her answer, “Well, the latter sounds good to me. Alright then, take out the remaining books. I’ll clean somewhere else in the meantime.”
I nodded my head aggressively. “Consider it done.”
She walked away to the other corner of the room and started cleaning there. Taking the chance, I pulled out the book and hid it underneath the bookshelf while she wasn’t watching.
Then, I pulled out the books one by one in assurance. It was so scary. One wrong move and I’d been dead.
After finishing my job, I helped her out to clean and made sure she didn’t check underneath the shelf.
The whole afternoon, she stayed in my room to clean. And I kept my watch on her so she wouldn’t find anything she was not supposed to.
A few hours later, she looked around and turned to me. “Thanks for your cooperation. My work here is done. Sorry for disturbing you. Bye.”
After she left, I locked the door behind me. And went to the bookshelf right away and bent down to the floor to pull out what I hid underneath there.
Grabbing it firmly, I pulled it out and got on my feet, and skimmed through the contents in one go.
Good, none of my things are missing. Everything is in its proper place.
“Didn’t you work a sweat just to stop her from finding the diary?” Kiki added.
Uh-hm. Because it’s important to me.
“You only write down the date and the thoughts. What’s so special about it?” she retorts. “It’s just a book filled with scribbles.”
They are not scribbles. They are my raw feelings for Dave. The one I kept hidden all these years ago because he became my dad suddenly.
My grudge, my anger, my sadness, my happiness, I wrote down each and everything, that I felt every day to keep them as a witness of my life and journey.
If someone has the right to read my diary, it’s only Dave. Cause my feelings are, surrounding him only.
I hope, someday, I can show him this myself, and read the pages together, laughing our asses off while cuddling in each other’s arms.
But, that is too far off in the future.
For now. I can’t let anyone find this out at all! I have to protect it at all costs. Till everyone is aware of our relationship.
In the evening, I was in Dave’s study. I was looking around, trying to find a glimpse of him even though I was the one who said I wouldn’t talk to him.
“You are really a heartless woman. Why say something that you can’t keep?”
Kiki remarks, playfully.
What now? Is it your hobby to tease me now?
“I never said it was. But, it does seem like a great hobby.”
You are weird.
“You are no less either. No matter how much you say you don’t want him, you keep missing him anyway. You are so needy.”
Yeah, I’m needy. But, I want his love and affection, and quality time. And you want something different. We aren’t the same.
“You sound like a saint, but are you a saint exactly?”
What do you mean by that?
“Why? You don’t want him to caress your thighs and touch you down there while whispering words of love like I do?”