The Unexpected Bride-Book One in Taming of the Shrew

Chapter Sixty-Four

"I think I am going to be sick."

Rita murmured while placing her hand upon her mouth. Cold sweat soon broke off her skin, and she turned pale. Before anyone could move a muscle, she was racing towards the nearest bathroom. The news of Yvonne's arrival was so sudden that her stomach had flipped, literally.

Sharlene watched her leave with sad eyes, her feet already moving to follow her, but Janice's words made her halt.

"I'll go check on her."

Sharlene nodded.

Hurriedly, Janice followed in the direction Rita had run. Turning back to face her mother, Sharlene was skeptical.

"Are you sure it was Yoyo, mom?"

Pointed eyebrows, for she thought it was English she had spoken, Helena repeated, while making sure to stress her words, as if she was talking to a child.

"Yes. It. Is. Yvonne."

Nodding with understanding, she asked once more.

"Did he say anything?"

Knitting her eyebrows, Helena shook her head in denial.

"The only thing he could say was 'I came as fast as I could' with tears flowing down his cheeks. I could barely hear him say the rest because he was crying so bitterly. I tried to console him, but that made him cry even more. He also refused to step inside the house, no matter how much I insisted. He is probably freezing his butt off as we speak."

Knowledgeable of Yvonne's faint heart, Sharlene did not wait another minute. Sidestepping the sofa, she rushed towards the front door.

Pulling the slightly ajar door open, she witnessed a sad Yvonne leaning against the barrister of the shallow porch separating the front door from the front yard.

He was gazing into space and passing a hand across his eyes every two seconds to wipe away his tears.

He was sniffling and drowning in self-pity.

Sharlene, with her hands still on the doorknob, cleared her throat.

Upon hearing her, he slowly averted his eyes from the wooden ceiling to gaze at her. Widening slightly, his eyes, he looked like a panda with his swollen eyelids and white face. His shoulders were shaking from the sniffles, and his brown eyes were red from the floodgates of tears earlier. All over the place was his midnight black hair, sticking in numerous directions, making him appear as if he had rapidly passed his hands through the tangled masses every time a sob left his person. It was one of Yvonne's iconic habits when he was frustrated and thinking.

Wearing a crumpled white and thin shirt and black trouser that was not appropriate for the cold night draft, Yvonne looked disheveled, something rarely seen, for he was a fashion king.

Folding her arms on top of her chest, she teased with a playful glare.

"After two months, and not counting the times you did not contact me—of not seeing you; is this the way you show up on my doorstep?"

Watching as his lips began to wobble, she clicked her tongue because he was only staring at her as if he had gone mute.

"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?"

She expressed.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds of staring later, Yvonne finally broke down in tears, and he sobbingly exclaimed.

"I am a failure."

"Oh, you poor baby."

Cooing, Sharlene drew over and pulled him into a friendly and comforting hug, but he had to slightly bend his head against her shoulder because he was one head taller than her.