Chapter 3 : Ava
1700 Words
ONE YEAR AGO...
It's my father's birthday today, and the first thing I want to do is prepare a cake for him.
It was 4 AM, I tiptoed at Christian's room and turned on the lights to wake him up.
I climbed on his bed, firmly grasped his arms, and violently shook them. "Christian, wake up. I need your help."
"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." He replied languidly. He was still in sleep. I guess.
"Wake up, Dumbo. I need you to accompany me to the twenty-four seven supermarket."
"What? But why?" He inquired. This time, his voice was louder and more lively. He had finally awoken, but his eyes remained closed.
"It's dad's birthday, and I wanna bake a cake for him. I need to buy some fresh essential ingredients, but I don't wanna go alone." I held my hands against his cheeks and began squeezing them. "Wake up, sleepysaurus. We need to move ASAP!"
"Oh-kay," He sighed and then let out a long yawn.
The main reason why he is my best friend and partner in crime: He never says no to me, like NEVER.
He opened his eyes as he kicked the blanket and—Oh, Jesus Christ! He is shirtless.
What's the deal with guys, clothes, and sleep? Why do they prefer sleeping naked?
After getting out of bed, he remarked, "Wait a minute, I need to put on my t-shirt and brush my teeth." He then moved towards the bathroom while covering his gleaming, well sculpted, midriff with his t-shirt.
I accidently fell asleep on his bed while waiting for him. He asked to wait a minute, but it took him more than half an hour to finish his morning ritual, and after I opened my eyes, the next thing I knew, he was all dressed up as if he was attending an official business meeting.
"What the hell? We are just going to a grocery store, Christian."
"Really? But I heard we are going to a supermarket."
"Whatever. Who the F wears Brioni while going to a supermarket?"
"This F." He chuckled and pointed at himself. "Now, let's go, you're making us late."
The audacity! He is the one who made us late, and now he is blaming it on me?
AT SUPERMARKET...
We placed all of the essential items in our basket and proceeded to the counter. Even though it was quarter to six, the queue was still five people long.
We were two people away from our turn when his phone rang, and he rushed forward to answer it.
Now, there's just one man before my turn to the counter, and Christian was still busy.
I dug into the pockets of my trousers, and my eyes widened in realisation. "s**t! I forgot to bring my wallet."
God! I wish I had brought my phone with me. At least I could make an online p*****t. But NO, I forgot to bring my phone too. This is the side effect of being with Christian. Whenever he is around me, or when I know he is with me, I just go carefree and careless.
"Christian!" I whispered.
He was busy with his call.
"Christian!" I whispered louder.
Still, he didn't hear me.
"Christian! Hey!" I waved towards him as I whispered again.
"You, deaf!" I cursed as I gave up.
He was standing near the main door because the network inside the supermarket was as bad as his spice tolerance.
I gave a gentle nudge with my palm to the man standing in front of me in the line, requested slowly, "Excuse me," and walked beside him.
"What the f**k, women?" The same man whom I asked to excuse me, yelled.
I stopped approaching Christian and turned back. "Are you talking to me?" I pointed my index finger towards myself.
"Yes, you, women. I'm talking to you." He wasn't yelling this time but his tone was rude and loud enough to grab everyone's attention and make me feel bad. "Don't you have f*****g manners? Even my six year old daughter knows to say excuse me."
"I—" I was about to repay the rudeness, but then I moved my gaze down towards his six year old daughter, she was holding her good for nothing, deaf and asshole dad's hand. Her eyes were watery and her face was getting pale. She was scared due to the unnecessary drama created by her own father.
Her own father didn't care about her fear, but that's not my nature. I wouldn't dare to scare this little kid for my benefit. Henceforth, I didn't say anything.
I didn't move from my place, I stood there and clenched the ends of my oversized t-shirt.
I didn't even approach Christian because I was about to cry and I didn't want him to see me in tears.
NO! The tears forming in my eyes weren't because I was scared or terrified. It was due to my inability to control my rage. I really, truly want to lash out at that jerk. But I can't risk frightening that little girl.
It's not my fault if that f*****g old asshole has a hearing problem. Why the f**k he has to be this rude to me? How can he insult a woman like this in public? Especially when he is a father of a daughter himself.
My steps were frozen in the exact position where I was standing. I was glaring at that that rude man, envisioning billions of ways to tremendously torture him.
"EXCUSE ME, WOULD YOU KINDLY PURCHASE THIS DEODORANT?" A deep and familiar screamed from the behind of that rude man.
"Excuse me, are you talking to me?" The rude man turned back to the deep and familiar voice.
"YES, I'M TALKING TO YOU, MISTER." The man with the deep and familiar voice tilted his head and chuckled. Finally, I could see his face. What the—Jonas f*****g Forbes?
Wh—What is he doing here in the supermarket at 6 AM?
"Perhaps he was banging one of his chicks and ran out of condoms." My inner-self, who was well aware of Jonas's womaniser characteristics, replied to me in my mind.
That is an excellently fair point!
But why on earth is he talking so loudly? Another thought occurred to me.
"Why are you requesting me to buy this deo?" The rude man asked. "And why the hell are you talking so loudly?"
"IT'S BECAUSE YOU SMELL LIKE A PEICE OF SHIT." Jonas screamed and a lump of a vengeful laugh crept into my throat. He moved his gaze at me and smiled before he continued. "AND I'M SCREAMING BECAUSE YOU'RE DEAF."
"What the—Who the f**k told you I'm deaf?" The rude man inquired angrily.
"NOBODY. I JUST FIGURED OUT. THAT GIRL.." He pointed at me, still dramatically screaming. "SHE CLEARLY REQUESTED YOU TO EXCUSE HER, BUT YOU DIDN'T HEAR IT." He chuckled like a devil ready to ruin the world and continued. "EVEN I, WHO WAS—One, Two.." He began to count the steps. "Three… YEAH, THREE STEPS BEHIND YOU, COULD HEAR HER REQUEST, BUT YOU DIDN'T?"
Everyone in the queue laughed and the rude man lowered his gaze.
"You should apologise to her, daddy." His little six years old daughter said. "You said we should apologise if we do something wrong to someone."
"I…" The rude man lowered his tone. "Am.. so—"
"Say it, daddy. Say it. Don't feel ashamed. Just say it loud." His daughter cheered him.
"I'm sorry." He apologised to me and made some space so that I could walk beside him and join the queue.
Wow! It feels so good to get justice.
I smiled and joined the queue. "Thank you." I whispered to Jonas who was standing behind me.
He bent towards my earlobe and whispered. "At least you noticed me."
The man behind us grabbed his grocery bag and left with his daughter.
I dropped my essentials at the counter and the cashier lady there began to scan them. I was so distracted due to the recent incident that I forgot about the money.
My eyes searched for Christian.
He was still on his phone.
"It will be hundred and five dollars, ma'am." The cashier lady announced.
Shit! I need the money right now. For god's sake, Christian. Can you please end that call and come back to me?
"Christ—" I was about to call him out loud this time but Jonas interrupted.
"Here, use this." He gave his mastercard to the cashier lady.
"You don't have to do this." I said.
"Well, a little and sweet thank you would be better." He replied.
"At least I noticed." I retorted as I shrugged and we both let out a short laugh.
RECENT DAY...
It was the first time someone had ever defended me. But that wasn't my first encounter with Jonas. We used to have a lot of interactions in high school, but to be honest, we tended to have arguments rather than interactions. We were known as Tom & Jerry of Vanstrong High.
We ceased interacting once I left Vanstrong for further studies and as far as I recall, that supermarket conversion was our first interaction after I returned.
Who'd have thought it? After years of playful conflict at high school and four years of departure, that little supermarket interaction will bring us to TODAY, where I'm all dressed up as his bride, desperately waiting for him to be my husband and make me his wife.
My face was aching because, today, there wasn't even a second when I wasn't smiling.
"I can't believe I'm marrying the love of my life." I said to myself as I looked at the mirror.
*MY PHONE BUZZED*
A message from Jonas? What could it be? A sweet poem? A quote? A post wedding letter?
Jeez! I can't wait to read it.
I clicked on the message, and the inevitable smile on my face disappeared as I read the small yet heart wrenching sentences.
Hey, I'm sorry. I can't do this. I can't marry you, Ava. Please don't wait for me.
- Apologies, Jonas
To be continued...
- Writer
