Innocent Temptation

Chapter Two: Life-sized Doll

Aira took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she approached the house that she had spent half of her childhood in. Before it was Mrs Colson who’d always called her over because she liked having the adorable little girl- she always used to say how Aira was the daughter she never had- and then it was Zurich who became her best friend, understanding her in ways that his big bear of a brother never did.

The basket of muffins she had baked earlier that morning felt heavy in her arms as she pushed open the small gate and made her way through the small entryway surrounded with potted plants just like her own house. Nervousness and anticipation made her hand tremble as she knocked on the wooden doors. A minute later, she heard the heavy set of footsteps and her belly tightened but she relaxed when the door opened and it was Mr Colson who stood on the other side of the doors.

His kind eyes widened a fraction before they smiled at her. “Oh, it’s you!” Just like her father, he engulfed her in a big hug. “I didn’t know our bonnie little doll was back.”

“I missed you too, uncle.” She said, squeezing her eyes.

“Who is it?” A familiar feminine voice called and a moment later the woman herself appeared behind the duo hugging in the doorway.

“Aira?”

She lifted her head and this time her eyes filled with tears as she saw Mrs Colson for the first time in so many years. Mr and Mrs Colson didn’t give birth to her but they were as much her parents as her own. “Ma!” Thrusting the basket of muffins in Mr Colson’s hands, she ran toward Mrs Colson.

Both the women hugged each other like they didn’t want to let go anytime soon. “Oh, dear. We missed you so much…” Mrs Colson said, her hands patting her back, squeezing her hard but Aira didn’t mind. She lived for warm hugs and wide smiles. And feeling these familiar arms wrap around her filled her with relief and emotions that made her heart swell. Maybe, coming here wasn’t such a bad thing.

Pulling back, her hands holding Aira’s arms, Mrs Colson gave her a once over. “Look at you, still as beautiful as ever.”

Mr Colson wrapped a fatherly arm around her small shoulders as he said, “Of course, she is. Only it seemed she was on a diet there. Did Paris not have enough food there, huh?”

Aira laughed, they both echoed what her own parents had said. “Come, let’s feed you something substantial than those croissants.” With a soft giggle Aira let Mrs Colson drag her to the small dining table near the kitchen.

She was thinking to herself whyever was she so nervous to come here when it was just another home to her as she ate through all the dishes Mrs Colson put in front of her. Mr Colson asked her about her life in Paris and she answered him, diverting him from the topics that made her shake with memories that she wanted to forget.

“What about the boy you were dating?” Mrs Colson asked. “Your mother said something about that…”

“I… It’s not—” Before she could finish and push the words through her tight throat the front door opened and a deep, very familiar voice that she had dreamed about in the darkest of the nights came through.

“Ma, we are home!”

“We are home!” Another voice repeated, small and childish.

“Oh, Cara is here.” Mrs Colson said, “She will be happy to see you. The last time she met you, you didn’t get much time together.”

Feeling like someone put her on a stage without informing her what to say next, she stood from her chair and turned around. Her smile faltered and her heart skipped a beat. Even though she had prepared herself for the possibility of facing him, meeting him after so many years, as she looked at him she realized she wasn’t ready.

He was still as big as a mountain, his big hand was holding a much smaller one and another had a yellow school bag in a tight grip. In a white t-shirt that stretched across his wide chest, the half sleeves showcasing thick biceps and corded arms…. He was the same as she remembered and still had the same effect on her the way he did before. She felt her heart squeezing in her chest like seeing what it had always wanted and hurting for not getting it. Get a grip heart, we had an understanding.

But as her eyes travelled up to his face, she saw the differences— He was older, looked more mature, and still…. undeniably handsome, maybe more so with how big he had become since the last time she had seen him. His dark hair was tousled, his jawline sharp and defined, his eyes intense and penetrating as they met hers.

And her lips fell apart at the emotions that shone in his eyes before he blinked and a cold blank expression took over. She’d have stepped back but there was nowhere to go, for when his eyes fell on her she saw him freeze. And then the moment passed and his jaw tightened, shoulders stiffened. And he looked at her the same way he used to. With annoyance in his eyes like she was a bothersome pest that he wanted to get rid of.

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There were only few things that affected Macalister Evans Colson as far as he was concerned. And a fewer still that were out of his control. And one of them was this little woman with her pink dress, blonde hair and sunny smile. And, not to forget those big blue eyes that were as unreal as they’d appear on those Barbie dolls. No wonder his father has always referred to her as a beautiful doll.

If anyone asked you what a real life Barbie will look like, you wouldn’t have to look far but in this small town of London and in the house next to his. But he had always hated that comparison, not because he didn’t find her beautiful or doll like, but because this small woman has more emotions in her than one would expect from a plastic doll. He had seen it and it had always left him with a hollow feeling in his chest, confusing him in ways that made him question if it was even real or not.

As if blasted with a cold wind, Mac froze for a moment when his eyes fell on the life-sized doll in his childhood home. He forgot about his niece and his parents as he looked at her. She was still as fûcking beautiful as he had remembered her. Her presence filling the room like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. Even after all these years, she hadn’t changed.

Same light in her eyes.

Same warmth that she exuded like a winter sun.

Same dazzling smile.

Same alabaster skin that would make you think twice before touching her, afraid if it could bruise her.

And, so fûcking beautiful it hurt to look at her.

How long has it been? Four years? Four years and he still couldn’t forgive her.

The thought made him feel the same chill he had felt then.

And still as he stood there, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her as she tried to smile at him. Her hand lifted and she murmured, “Hi.”

He should reply for the sake of civility, perhaps. But all he managed was a grunt and a nod of his head before he turned away from her and marched upstairs.

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A. Gupta

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