It was so dark in the night already, and barely anything could be heard around the estate anymore except the branches of trees moving in the movement of the wind, and the sound of crickets that buzzed amidst the gardens that were around.
Malcolm was seen returning to Zoe’s house after he had left many minutes ago, with big bags in his hands as he made his way to the front of her mansion. Slipping in through the front door now that he knew its password, he stepped in casually and locked the door behind it.
Since he left the other inner door that led to the living room open without closing it when he left earlier, it was easier to just enter on tiptoe without disrupting her.
Catching a sight of her still sleeping on the couch in her living room, he dropped the bag he was carrying on the cold, marbled floor, and walked over to her side to feel her temperature. He noticed that she was still burning with a fever.
Carefully, Malcolm carried her the same way he had done the previous day, hoping that she wouldn’t awaken on the way to her room.
In no time, he had returned downstairs to get a few of the things he had brought alongside with him which were from her mall earlier that day; An air purifier, and a petite side lamp since her room was always too dark.
Once he fixed them in the right place, he quickly grabbed a bowl of water and one of the towels he used the previous day, and began to mop her fever with the damp towel, while constantly moving the tendrils of her hair away from her face.
When her fever had gone down a bit, he returned to her kitchen to arrange the set of porcelain he purchased, and fine, white china he thought she needed too.
Opening her refrigerator, he sorted from the sparse contents of her fridge, the few ingredients that were still fit for use and decided to prepare a vegetable and lentil rice soup. The one he had learned the moment he started living alone and enjoyed the peace in it.
He also made sure to discard the items that had begun to spoil as forgotten leftovers in her refrigerator, and covered every food in a container the way Edward usually did for him.
As he moved from spot to spot, chopping tomatoes, carrots, swede, leek, onion dicing vegetables, and steaming the rice, he was done in about an hour. He served the meal in the huge cooker before he decided to boil the herbal tea that he brought along too for her. He had gone through hoops and troops to have the tea imported that day from China for fever.
After Malcolm poured the steaming tea into a well-worn flask he found, he returned to her room to check how well she was doing, and sat for a few more minutes to watch her.
Guilt weighed on his heart as he swallowed, before he started talking, “I’m sorry,” he murmured, the words tasting bitter on his tongue because they would never be enough and because she never wanted to even hear them again.
“I didn’t know any better. I was a fool. I was blind, and I hurt you,” His throat parched with pressure and sadness as his eyes went shut momentarily, his fingers gripping the edge of the seat, “And if I could take it all back, if I could undo the pain, I would. I really would do anything to make you feel better, Zoe.”
His voice softened further, barely above a whisper even if it was the only thing that could be heard in the room, “I wish to get the chance, not to fix everything because I know I can’t, but just to be here. To be by your side. Even if that’s all you’ll ever let me have.”
Malcolm waited a few more minutes after speaking heavily before he left, and didn’t forget to drop a series of sticky notes too which were attached to the separations, sorting, and cooking that he did. He mentioned that she should make sure to take the herbal tea first once she was up to help her feel better.
Under the darkest sky of the night, he made his way back to his house, as the cool night air constantly whooshed through his shoulders, and made tiny goosebumps creep up his skin. As he thought of the woman he had left behind, he also thought of the one he had longed to meet.
His mother, who had left him at a very young age to grow up in a scrambled family where nothing ever made sense, which made him dwell with a confused sense of identity for so long.
He had hated and resented her ever since he found out that Irina was not his biological mother. The thought of who she was and what she looked like haunted his dreams even if he dared not ask about her. There was barely any information to trace his birth to her, and everything had been made to look so perfect as if Irina were his real mother.
Growing up, he had been so bitter and angry all his life that she left him because she never even looked back. When his father died, it intensified his rage because she thought that she should have at least heard the news and should have come for him.
He had always pictured the moment he would finally face the woman whom he never knew about in his life, and walk past her like she never existed. Because of how pained he was, he never looked for her either. He was never curious either.
‘Since she never loved him and allowed another woman to raise him, then looking for her would not be worth it. He would only be wasting her time.’
Those were the thoughts he had harbored for years.
‘But now he was tired of playing hide and seek. He wanted to find her. He wanted to see her around him. He wanted to at least have someone whom he could call family even if they never wanted him. He wanted to see her.’