As soon as we arrived at Seth's apartment, I was presented with warm water to take a bath and a fresh set of clothes. Since I really needed to clean myself of the evidence from the previous night, I hurried into the bathroom, took a bath and got changed swiftly, only to be invited for breakfast in the dining hall.
Sitting, thus, on the dining table, I waited for the food to be served, trying not to look into Seth’s eyes. Nonetheless, the hawk-eyed man didn’t take long to recognize that I hadn’t been truthful to him. Instead of being mad about it, he asked me in a rather kinder manner, “Are you sure you’ve been telling me the truth, Christie?”
“Why would I lie to you?” I asked instead of giving him the truth, for I couldn’t afford to do so. It would tarnish my image in front of him, which was why feigning ignorance seemed to be the ideal thing to do.
Shortly, the food arrived. I, accordingly, paid heed to the grumbling of my stomach and served myself some warm soup and buttered toasts, something I thought would inspire the man to postpone the questioning session. Undeterred, he asked again, “Why are you lying to me? Aren’t we friends?”
It was true that we had been friends since my first day in college. Consequently, we grew closer to each other. I still felt that the revelation of my previous night’s wrong decisions could only contribute to misunderstandings about my character. Despite being my friend, he was still a man, bound to misunderstand my drunkenness as perverseness.
“I do not understand, Seth,” I pretended to be innocent, conscious of the consequences of telling the truth.
Once we were done with the breakfast, he took hold of a napkin and wiped my mouth for me, very tenderly, pointing out, “Why do you have so many marks on your neck? Since they’ve turned purple, I am certain that they must be hurting you.”
How could I tell him that those marks weren’t bruises? They were rather love bites. I, thus, lied again, “The insects bit me last night, as I didn’t cover myself properly while sleeping.”
Since Seth wasn’t foolish enough to believe me, he altered the subject of our discussion, “Are you seeing someone? Was that the reason why you didn’t answer your sister’s calls because you spent the night with that special someone?”
“Nothing of that sort,” I answered, frustrated with the unremitting conversation about the previous night. "I just drank too much until I passed out."
"Then, how would you explain the marks on your body? I know those aren't insect bites," declared Seth, confronting me about my lies.
"Perhaps some other day," I responded upon recognizing how I couldn't continue to lie to him while growing paler than before.
“I am sorry. I didn’t realize that I was making you uncomfortable,” apologized Seth, standing up and leaving me sitting alone in the dining room.
I knew Seth was more disappointed than upset with me, but I pretended not to notice it. Since I was convinced I had been taking advantage of his kindness while simultaneously hurting him by keeping him away from the truth, I didn’t want to trouble him with the task of dropping me home. I, hence, stood up and requested his driver to take me home instead.
“But, I need to consult the Master first,” said Mister Thomson, unsure if he had the authority to take the decision of dropping me off on his own. “He mightn’t like the idea of me taking you away without informing him.”
“I’ll talk to him later. Could you please take me home instantly?” I urged, impatient to leave. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
The driver heeded my request and guided me to the parking lot, something we both knew he would be in trouble for. As soon as we got inside the car, he hit the engine, and we began moving away from Seth's place.
“Thank you for putting my discomfort over your obligations,” I paid my gratitude to the kind driver. “I will be forever grateful for this.”
“Master Seth has always advocated prioritizing the needs of the guests over everything else, so I am convinced he will lend me an ear before getting upset about everything that I am doing for you,” suggested Mr Thomson. “Besides, I am glad I could be of use to you.”
Shortly after, the familiar structure came into view and my heartbeat went rampant. The mere thought of standing before my parents left me trembling in fear, something that prompted Mr Thomson to think I was cold. He, therefore, offered me his blazer to keep me warm.
“It’s alright. I can manage,” I tried to refuse.
Shaking his head, the man assured me that it would be right for me to take it. Since I couldn’t turn down his kindness, I took it and covered myself to escape the unsympathetic slaps of the biting cold wind.
Once we’d reached our destination, I got out of the car, thanked the driver and then hesitatingly turned towards the entrance of my house, speculating about the possibility of making a wrong decision. I, thus, began contemplating turning around and leaving.
Before I could take any steps back, I was spotted by our housemaid, Maria Blunt, who rushed to the outside with palpable joy in her eyes. Having been concerned over my inability to return home, she held me in a warm embrace and declared, “I missed you. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn't returned.”
“I am sorry. I should’ve informed you about my whereabouts,” I said, recognizing my mistake for making the only person who cared for me worry. “If I would’ve been aware of the repercussions of my actions, I would’ve never done what I did.”
Instead of wanting to know about my last night’s misadventures, she caressed my head lovingly before telling me, “Your parents have been equally worried about your disappearance.”
I had a hard time believing that people who would easily go on days without worrying about their younger daughter’s needs could miss her when their older one was there to provide them with company. I, thus, did not comment on it. Instead, I just nodded and allowed Maria to take me inside.
As soon as we entered, a wave of laughter came to our ears from the living area. Curious to find out what could possibly be amusing to the parents with a missing daughter, I headed straight to the source of the sound.