A Perfect Stitch

Chapter 44 | safe guarding jealousy

Orlando's taste in music was plausible, not slow, not loud, and not boring.

His playlist snatched me from my thoughts throughout the drive to the mansion.

We pulled up by the huge gate and my reality knocked me.

The Hortons had good hearts, people I could call family, the happiness which completed me.

Hiding the truth from them made me an imposter, a traitor, and a liar.

The list was long.

The gates acknowledged us with a rumbling sound and Orlando drove through the fountains.

I memorized the striking blue of the pool.

Life without all these facilities won't be easy.

I didn't value luxury but living with the Hortons messed up my mind.

The beauty of their mansion became my favorite addiction.

Goodbye might be hard to say, but forgetting the mansion was the hardest.

"Mrs. Horton, are you okay?"

"Yes, " my gaze faded from the window.

I slumped into my seat and released a breath that hitched my throat.

"I'm skeptical about making some decisions in my life but forget it, it's going to pass. Maybe it's the tiring trip that's getting me worked up."

"Take a long bath. It helps to muster ideas in place. Making life decisions is not easy, so I understand you."

Orlando pulled out his security belt and walked around the car to help me out.

"When your ideas are all in place, make them go through the test of time. The ones which survive the test can be kept since the weirdest of them all must have blurred with time."

"Thanks, " I folded my coat and balanced it on my shoulder. "I enjoyed the ride."

I smiled and strolled out of him.

The night shadowed the clouds.

The stars twinkled at the full moon, adorning the wet lawn.

How much time did I have left?

Could I stay longer to figure out what it is that would work out well?

Won't I have died of guilt before the test of time was over?

Weren't Dwain's sea-blue eyes going to choke me with one glance?

Orlando's suggestion built doubts and twisted my nerves.

I reflected on them while wandering to the front porch.

"Where were you?"

Calm, raspy, upset, fading like a whisper, that was Dwain's voice.

Our eyes locked together and everything stopped.

Messy hair lightly brushed to the side with a defined jawline protruding as he clutched his teeth.

Lips pressed into a line, complementing his furrowed brows.

Why did such a specimen escape the lab?

His features didn't match the words in the thesaurus.

I worshiped his smooth face instead of taking his deathly frown seriously.

It was like he crossed his muscled arms over his chest to intimidate me, but then, noticing his healthy biceps somewhat tingled me, stripping down my saint mind.