Authors: N.K. Pockett
When are they coming home? I grumbled and got up then felt something under my feet. I looked down to see a phone and furrowed my eyebrows. I picked up the phone. Is this Darius's? He couldn't have possible left without his phone, could he? I remember taking it out of his pocket but that was all.
I turned the iPhone around in my hands, curiosity getting the better of me. Surprisingly he had no password and I smiled cheekily.
I opened his messages first, rolling my eyes at the people who he texted. My heart did a somersault upon seeing that there were no females from what I could see. But then I froze upon seeing one contact. James.
I quickly exited, not wanting to pry on his messages. I didn't even want to read what they wrote to each other about business or anything. I should really tell Darius that James is not a man to mess with. Or I can tell my dad to tell him. But then Dad will find out why I broke up with him and then everything will get worse.
I couldn't help clicking on his pictures. I laughed out loud as I saw a photo of documents. Typical Darius. I was even surprised he knew how to use the camera. After a few more, I stifled another laugh as I saw Adrian's face come up. Adrian was taking selfies during a business meeting and they turned into Adrian
trying
to take photos with Darius who looked angry and annoyed.
Even in the photos, his eyes are so green, so piercing, like he was looking right at me. I quickly moved to the next pictures, which were more of Adrian’s selfies in an event. It looked formal and he took photos with everyone there. It made me wonder, why on earth did Adrian have his phone?
I sighed, a bit frustrated that Darius didn't have many pictures, and those he did were of Adrian. I turned to the last picture and froze. Staring back at me were dark brown eyes, ones that looked black in the picture, with long eyelashes that only made those eyes stand out.
She was smiling, the sun behind her bright and the water around her sparkling. In her hand was a surfboard which she was trying to put up the car. She was me.
When did he take this?
It was the time where he made me pack the car, saying that I shouldn't have made him bring all this if I wasn't going to use it. I quickly exited the photo and lay on my back. I could practically feel my heart racing.
He took a picture of me?
I finally got up after another hour of pondering and sighed as I went to have a shower. The first thing I did after I woke up the first day Darius was gone was take an hour-long shower, but it only made me sick because of the mist everywhere. I had showered at least two times that day to make up for the lack of shower before. I grabbed my towel and clothes, rushing in to get rid of the disgusting feeling in my mouth.
Stepping out of the shower, I sighed in happiness. I felt so fresh and relaxed.
I could hear noises downstairs. Adrian was probably up, too. It was a regular thing the past two days, waking up to see him cooking in the kitchen.
I walked down to see him look up from rummaging through the fridge.
"Good you're up. You sleep more than my cousin, you know?"
"A girl needs her beauty sleep, okay," I replied. I was starving and whatever he was making smelled amazing.
"You don't need any," he muttered as he pulled out eggs. Just because he and his cousin were more than good looking doesn't mean they have to brag.
"I still can't believe you can cook," I said, leaning against the bench.
"And I can't believe you can't." He winked, making me turn a lovely shade of red. It wasn't my fault. I tried cooking but mother would always tell me off because of it, and then when I tried, mishaps would happen.
"I take it you didn't sleep well?"
"Huh?" I was looking at all the ingredients he took out.
He poked my skin just below my eyes. "You have dark circles," he said.
"I do?" I asked. He grabbed some pots and pans, nodding.
"That makes two of you."
"What?"
"I know someone else who would have slept badly." Adrian winked again.
"I am so confused," I said, shaking my head.
"Just cut this up for me.” He chucked a cucumber, which I barely caught. I walked around to the other side of the bench and grabbed the knife.
“You know how to chop, right?” he asked.
I could feel an intense blush coming to my face and turned around to keep him from seeing it. “Of course I do,” I snapped, a bit too defensively, might I add. He nodded and turned around and I stared at the vegetable in front of me.
Of course, I knew how to chop, not that I did it very often, considering my lack of participation in the kitchen. But then again, how hard could chopping be?
I chopped the ends of the cucumber off. It was slippery. Why couldn’t they be more flat? I sliced it down in half, so at least the bottom was flat which made it easier to cut. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing but the pieces came in various shapes and slices and I stifled a grin.
“You done?”
“Yep,” I said, turning around to face him. Adrian took a look at my masterpiece and his face contorted into different emotions. Alright, it wasn’t that bad.
“That’s creative.”
“Shut up,” I muttered, putting the knife down.
“I’m joking, thanks,” but then he grabbed the chop board from me. I watched as he mixed the cucumber with other vegetables. It was quite embarrassing, really. A guy knew how to cook and I didn’t. Maybe I could ask him to teach me. My thoughts were disturbed as the phone rang.
“I’ll get it.” He was already racing away from the pan to the other room. I shrugged and jumped onto the kitchen bench. I never thought I would be here one day, becoming a wife but feeling so bored. Scratch that. I wasn’t even a housewife. I was basically a house statue, not even doing anything.
Adrian came back with a smile on his face and I raised an eyebrow.
"What?" I asked, feeling hungry. I could practically feel my stomach growling. I watched as he turned off the stove and smiled at me. I raised an eyebrow again. Wasn't he going to finish cooking that?
"Come on," he said, grabbing my hand none too gently and pulling me up the stairs.
"Eh, Adrian?" I asked in confusion. I nearly tripped over my feet as I went up. I could see clothes littered everywhere, courtesy of Adrian. And since Ma was apparently visiting her grandchildren, there was no one to clean it up. I tried but gave up after picking up his tenth shirt and not knowing what to do with it.
Living with Adrian was like living with a child.
"Pack," ordered Adrian, shoving me into the master bedroom.
"Why?"
"We're going to France."
"What?"
"Oh, and bring Darius's phone as well, will you?"
"What
are
you doing?"
I ignored the voice and took a deep breath, muttering into the pillow. Why did the pillow have to smell so bad? Why couldn't it have a musky aftershave smell or a –? Wait, no, I mean like a sunflower smell or something. Do sunflowers even have a smell?
"Ivory," the call of my name was followed by a jab on my waist. It was annoying, because it only made the belt in the plane dig into my waist. Damn it, why couldn't we just take a normal plane?
I had nearly freaked when Adrian dragged me to the outside of the airport and passed the runway. I honestly thought for a moment I was going to die by getting run over by some humongous plane and no one would know because I would look like an ant from the window.
And sure, I was
expecting
Darius to own a private jet. Hell, my father owned one, too, but that didn't mean I had been on one since my fourteenth birthday. No. In fact, I like to keep myself very far away from these aircrafts.
"Ivory." Another jab followed and I lifted my hand and waved it to say I would get to him later. But I think I imagined the movement rather than do it. I could finally feel the plane reach a steady altitude, which made me open my eyes to stare at the dark navy blue pillow that had one streak of gold across it, creating a decent look.
"Aluminium!"
"Ow!" I rubbed my waist as I sat up straight, glaring into the eyes that were staring at me. "What?" I snapped.
"Oh, now you reply. I have been trying to talk to you for the last half an hour and you kept trying to sleep!"
I rolled my eyes as Adrian huffed. He crossed his arms across his chest from the seat opposite mine and leaned back.
"If you couldn't see, I was waiting till the plane came to a steady stop, thank you very much."
"Steady stop, thank you very much," mocked Adrian in a high pitched voice, making faces at me which only made me sigh and lean back, closing my eyes. Why on earth is he so childish? I thought he had his own business or something, how can someone like
that
run something?
Which only reminded me not to judge. Look where I was. Graduated with flying colours, wanted to get a degree in Medicine to only help people, and then shattered the dream. I shuddered, just thinking about it. And I let other things blame the reason I dropped out. Now that was childish of me.
Screw that, it was already done. What about cooking? I tried taking that up in Uni as a part time course, learned how to make pasta, and then dropped out, not liking being bossed around by some pretentious chef. And I remember every week I would learn a new dish and try to prepare it only for James to say it lacked this or that or whatever when I made some for him
Oh, don't even think about that. Alright, let's say I wasn't made for cooking. What about sport? Oh god, Ivory, how long has it been since you picked up a hockey stick or kicked a footy? Too long that the walk across the runway made me sweat. Pathetic.
Staying at home. Is this what I had become? Some spoiled girl who would whine? So I don't care what Adrian thinks Darius would say. I am getting a job. I cannot just stay home all my life. I swear my IQ level had dropped the past few months and spending more time with Adrian would only make it drop some more.
"Million for your thoughts?"
My eyes shot open as I stared at Adrian, who was staring at me curiously.
"Isn't it ‘a
penny
for your thoughts’?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Inflation prices," he retorted haughtily, taking a sip of his glass which looked like it probably had alcohol in it. Where did he get that? I could use a glass right now to calm the elephants in there. I hated flying. But then again I got drunk faster than a fifteen-year-old. Not that they should be drinking in the first place.
"Only you, rich people," I muttered, shaking my head.
"You're rich, too," he reminded me, something I usually always forgot. Of course, I was rich, too. What was that, a saying that rich people stick together? If that was the case, I wouldn't have to marry Darius in the first place. It was the fact that rich people claw at each other to become better that we had to get married so that our companies, the biggest, won't run each other down. Some healthy competition that would always keep us at the top and let the other businesses stay below. Evil, but still worked.
Ignoring him and his requests for packeted peanuts, I looked out the window, noticing the dark sky. I thought it was just morning. And then I realised I probably fell asleep sometime because looking at Adrian now, he was sprawled in his seat with a basket on the ground that had packets of empty peanuts and I stifled a laugh.