CHAPTER 5
A call boy
Aria came to realize at last, he was the one she saved. The encounter which had happened continued in front of her mind.
April 11 had been so much ahead in Aria's life. It highlighted in red in her calendar, engraved in her mind as memory day. Her heart had beaten with excitement, envisioning laughter, dinners, and walks with her newlywed husband. And then to find but a note of apology on the plate on the table and the sound of his footsteps where he had left the house—duty had called, and precedence of work for the first time in all her life. She went out for a moment as she closed the door behind her walking across the deserted street.
The spring breeze was soft, but her lungs were weighed down, the sun was warm and she felt nothing, none of it could penetrate the ice in her heart. Her footsteps tread on and on, only their rhythm a reflection of her own sorrow. She moved through levels of flowers swarming with life and smiling faces, but it was all indistinct, as if the world started to go on without her. She was not resentful—her self was only hurting, leaving the emptiness behind. Her fingers trembled as they curled around the slender chain at her throat, the pendant chill on her skin—her silent comfort in times of fear. There was a tense silence in the room, and she looked around involuntarily. And then she spotted him.
She cast her eyes to the floor and a splodge of black colour was in front of her leg, only for her to catch sight of him out of nowhere. Her heart dropped. Time stood still, if only briefly. Panic gripped her body as she hurried to him.
She knelt beside him, shaking him vigorously and yelling as loudly as she could, and her voice broke and was left raspy. His chest still moved—although very minimally. She called for assistance immediately and had him taken to the hospital, her thoughts speeding ahead of the sirens wailing down the roads.
Hours later, when they told her he'd live, she released a trembling breath. But she didn't desist. Duty tugged at her coat, and with a final look, turned away—away from more than an hospital room.
Words failed her, a shock of electricity traveled through her system, scowls creasing her face as her eyes began to smolder but she didn't give in.
Despite it, there had been a strange feeling of relief that calmed her mind, he had lived. That alone was reason enough to give thanks. But the overwhelming burden of what she'd discovered shook her more than she expected. A call boy? Her breathing constricted, not horror, but grief. She could not picture the desperation that drove him. Her heart ached—yes, for him. She blinked fiercely, willing the burning from her eyes. No tears. Not yet. Shaking hands, she grabbed her bag from the chair, jerking, uncoordinated. Silent, not looking back, she left the room, each movement swift, deliberate. No reluctance—only the remnant shadow of pity clung to her like a second skin.
Jerry smiled softly, the sound low and with humor.
There was something quaintly charming in the look at him—so breathtakenly in error, so passionately. But under his smiling face, a storm raged even more profoundly. For so many years, he hadn't felt so happy as he felt then, pure and unshatterable. It seethed against his chest, dying to come out. He had now found her. Her. The one who had saved him when he didn't even know he needed to be saved. The moment she'd stormed away, he brought out his phone from his pocket, the display flashing as he punched in the numbers. His eyes grew cold with iron determination.
A slow, sly smile crawled its way up his lips as the call rang on.
With a voice rich with promise and hope, he panted,"You won't be able to resist me any more my Queen!"
Not this time.
She had danced into his madness once before—now she'd be a resident. Forever.
And he'd never release her.
She pushed the door slowly shut behind her as she stepped inside her apartment. Quiet greeted her in her home, but not in hers. She took off her heels, and every step towards the bathroom a frantic dash. The night before jam-packed itself into her head as it played electric feelings down her body.
She flipped on the bathroom light, and the mirror radiated back at her in its old, pinky glow.
Her hand went up involuntarily—and froze. There it was.
A shadowy, flowered hickey under the curve of her jaw.
Bold. Unmistakable. Spontaneous.
She caught her breath. "Oh no!," she swore under her breath.
She bit her bottom lip between her teeth, the way she did when guilt and terror did conflict. That was no kiss—nearly a signature. One she simply couldn't allow anyone to read.
Aria moved forward stealthily, her thudding chest. "What do I do?" she panted, already rummaging through the drawer under the sink. Foundation? Concealer? Scarf? Her thoughts wandered through make-believe and cover-ups like a thief eyeing an escape route.
But deep down inside the frantic urgency, there was a pleasure that curled within her chest.
She'd lost her mind. Now she had to hide it.
Dreary smoke still clung to her skin after she bathed, she proceeded directly to anointing her body and she stood before the mirror with eyes scanning over the slippery and radiant bruise on her neck, she felt as though she'd forgotten about what the night had been like.
She stretched out her hand to her closet and started digging through for something fitting, skipping the silks and the blouses without sleeves, settling on a turtle-sleeved cotton blouse in midnight blue instead. It fitted her arms like armor, hiding her secrets inside. She fastened the button on her heels and sprinted towards the door, the soft thud of her heels trailing after. Outside, the city was already coming to life, but inside her head, she was noisier—racing, thumping, restless. Today counted. She yanked the doors open on the office, the fresh paper and roasted coffee scent grounding her. Her heels clacked along the tile hall with purpose.
And then—she paused.
A voice she recognized but one that was rich and deep wasn't far away from her where she stood. Her heart racing in her chest. No, it can't be…
It was.
Her breath was stolen, her throat constricting. She turned slowly, her heart racing in her ears, her eyes scanning.
And then she saw him.