My Kind of Perfect (26 page)

“I'm sorry,” said John.

I looked to my right and stared disbelievingly at John as he
opened his statement with an apology. All the nervousness I felt before I came
inside the conference hall soon faded away as it was replaced with that
inquisitive and worried feeling on why John had decided to open the press
conference like that.

The whole room was silent, not even the anxious reporters
said a thing. Everyone wanted to hear what this man would say next. Being one
of the wealthiest people in the country, he was one of those whose words were
so important. And that if possible, it was as if everyone here would actually
stop their breathing to let him have his moment.

Although I think that what exactly what everyone was doing.
Or maybe it was only me who was holding my breath. There were so many worries
on John’s face. Even his breathing was slow and heavy. And all I did was to
helplessly stare.

What else was there for me to do?

After assessing the crowd, I heard him continue, “I asked
for this press conference to release my official statement regarding those
rumors about me and Ms. Kayla Wilson.”

“John—“ I tried saying when I he paused.

He held my hand briefly under the table and shook his head
while keeping his eyes on our audience. I had no idea why I suddenly wanted to
be the martyr. But if there was something I wanted to do right now, that was to
take part of the blame. Even all the blame. After all, Dorothy wouldn’t be in
the hospital if not for what I’d done.

Despite my protest to let me speak, he continued, “The
rumors are true. We are not married. The ceremony was only for show. Kayla was
the one who actually saved my face that day. She took the place of my bride who
ran away a day before that wedding.”

Flashes of light came from everywhere. All of our audience
spoke, murmured, and made noises. Some gave a knowing nod. Others were
particularly surprised. And the ones at the corners of their room started
murmuring on their phones, telling everyone the news.

I could just imagine the headline of tomorrow’s papers:
John Brooks, CEO of Burchett Hotel, faked his marriage!

“Who was supposed to be your bride?” one asked after the
majority of the audience calmed down.

“I can’t disclose the name. I hope you will all understand,”
answered John, dismissing the question.

“Then what about the story you gave the press before? Is it
true that you two know each other way back in high school or is that one also
made up?” Another question came along.

“I’ve met Kayla when I moved to New Waulds when I was ten.
We also attended the same high school,” he told everyone.

“Was she an old flame?”

“No. But she was a good friend,” replied John.

“Miss Kayla, why did you marry to him?” one asked, looking
at my direction.

Because of the curse, I wanted to answer but had to hold
that back. I wasn’t sure what this was anymore. Not after realizing that I
liked John even now. No one here knew that even now, I still hadn’t known what
had happened for me to end up feeling this way.

“Was it for money?” a female reporter asked me.

I was guilty as charged because I partly did it for money.
At first.

“Of course not,” spoke John right away. “Kayla only helped
me. That’s all.”

“Miss Wilson, what did you gain for doing this?” The female
reporter persisted on asking her questions. She clearly disregarded what John
had said.

“I...”

John held an arm in front of me and said, “No, she did not
receive anything. She did it out of goodwill. She’s a good friend.”

“Wait!” I pulled his arm, getting a clear view of the
audience again. “That’s not—“

“Please, Kayla. Let me handle this, okay?” He pulled my
right arm, leaning towards me.

“But John, I... I...” I tried saying.

“Please. Just do this for me,” he said again, placing his
hand on mine and looking at me in the eyes. I melted in his gaze. He took out
the words from my mouth.

But still, I wanted to say something to at least defend him.
I wanted to say that it wasn't his entire fault and that he was also a victim
of the situation. How in the end, he did not gain anything. I wanted to tell
everyone that. But then he stopped me from doing so, shaking his head and
hushing my words.

“Let me handle this. I'll get you out of this mess,” he
whispered again to my ears.

John faced the crowd again, leaving me completely lost for
words. All I could think of was the tingly sensation of his breath and the
warmth of his hand as it was pressed onto mine. I wanted to smack my head on
the table for letting my mind be occupied by that especially in this kind of
situation. I wasn’t helping at all. John undeniably got my sanity out of my
mind.

“Ms. Wilson, how do you feel about all this?” the reporter
turned their questions to me again. “Did you really do it because you were a
friend? Are there any other reasons behind all this?”

John cut them off by moving close to the microphone. “Can I
ask everyone to please direct your questions to me instead? I'll answer them
all. I promised Miss Wilson that I would at least do this for her. For
everything she has done for me.”

With those words, the day came to an end with John answering
all the questions and me just staying still. He made me so innocent that
everyone threw me apologetic looks when the conference ended. If he purposely
did that to make me feel bad, he had succeeded.

“Let me at least walk you out,” he offered.

I stayed in his office until all the reporters had gone home
and the place was back to how it originally was. Although, you could sense that
everyone was still coping up with they had heard. I deeply felt sorry for John.
I was going to leave this place. But he would be the one to bear all that every
single day.

“I’ll be fine,” I told him. “There’s really no need—“

“Please?” he said.

“Okay,” I stammered.

The walk out of his hotel had been silent. No one was still
into saying anything. Perhaps it was because of exhaustion the whole day had
brought. Or the heavy feelings both of us were still having.

“Thanks for walking me out,” I said as Mr. Smith opened the
car door for me. “And for everything. Especially the conference.”

“Thanks for staying until now. It’s good seeing you again,”
he said.

I nodded, not knowing what else to say. Should I mention
Dorothy?

We continued standing there, feeling awkward on what we were
supposed to do next. So what exactly? Certainly not kiss. That was one funny
thought.

So instead, I offered my hand to him. This was the most
formal way to go and say thank you at the same time. And also nice to see you
again. And probably mention that I’d fallen in love with him but I couldn’t
possibly admit that right now.

He took my hand and warmly shook it. I smiled, still feeling
remorseful but thankful just the same. And as we were sharing an innocent
handshake, a bellman going after a rolling luggage cart came our way. I was
about to react to it, seeing that I was the one who caught a glimpse of it
behind John, but Mr. Smith already got in the way and blocked it.

Although, the thing was, he had to push John along to
actually do that.

So that ended up with me accidentally hugging John.
Awkwardly. We were actually doing good with the handshake. Further skin contact
made things uncanny. But somehow, none of us pulled away for the next minute.
Or two. And no one even said why and for what reason. Then came three.

This was really turning to be a long hug. Or maybe I was
only counting fast, in accordance to what my heart was doing. The thumping
might as well be likened to a cheetah running in the wild.

Soon enough, I gave up on timing the hug. And at the same
time, I felt that selfish thought of never wanting for the moment to be over.
But I knew full well that now that everything was revealed, we were back to
being strangers once more. And that was something I wasn't confident about. Not
now. Not after everything I had realized. Deep inside, somehow, I knew that I
would long for this man until the pain of losing him was over.

Two months later

“Kayla,” someone called out.

That voice was awfully familiar. But at the same time, it
was that same voice that was the last thing I wanted to hear right now. Or for
any other day.

I turned back. And there, I saw him. What a great way to add
to all the madness that I had gone and was still going through. Really? After
dumping me for a girl, he still had the courage to face me. My ex-boyfriend
making a comeback and me being in the kitchenware section of a grocery store
and in front of the pile of knives wasn't such a good idea. I had that urge to
grab the sharp knife at my right and throw it straight to him.

But no. I had to calm down. Keep sanity.

But I was freaking out, freaking out bad. Aaron was standing
in front of me dressed in those freaking green polo and faded jeans that looked
so freaking adorable on him. His chestnut hair was kept in his usual
style—rough and edgy—as it fell down halfway across his face. All in all, I was
totally and irrevocably distorted. I was so freaking angry at him and a
thousand kinds of other emotions filled my mind making it as baffled as
scrambled eggs that was beaten all day long.

And did I mention that I was freaking out?

“Hi,” he said, making me want to smack his face.

The nerve.

I heavily breathed and caught some air before turning my
back on him. I hadn't given it much thought, but walking away seemed to be the
most intelligent thing to do. Or at the least I was trying to get away from the
kitchenware section and go somewhere like the aisle for flours and such.

“Kayla, wait! Let's talk,” he called out.

I hastened my steps and headed straight to nowhere, more
like circled the whole store. Soggy footsteps echoed around as I almost run
while dashing away from him. It was as if we were playing tag.

Were we even kids to do this kind of stuff?

I halted on my tracks, thinking that it was foolish of me to
run away from him. That was when he caught up with me and placed his cart in
front of mine and said, “I want to tell you something.”

“Do you still have to? Fine. Say it and then go. I don't
need you to bother my life, Aaron,” I sternly answered, glaring at him.

“You look different,” he suddenly noted.

“What’s different?” In case he’d also ask, I felt different,
too.

“Something. I don’t know exactly what. But there’s
something.” He kept on trying to figure it out.

“Whatever you say. So what do you want?” I was starting to
get annoyed.

“Kayla, I want you back,” he said, in utter solemnest.

I choked on my breath. Out of all the other possible things
to say, he actually said that. I actually thought he’d want me to congratulate
him for getting married. After clearing my throat, I looked around and then
pointed to myself as I said, “Are you talking to me?”

“Kayla.” He breathed.

“Uhmm? You’re not joking?” He had no idea how stupid I felt
right now. He left me for another girl. Or let me rephrase that by saying that
he left me to be married to another girl. And now, he wanted me back. Did that
even make sense? Shaking my head, I confoundedly asked him, “Aaron, aren't you
married now?”

“No,” he quickly answered. “The wedding didn't happen.”

“Oh,” I blurted, taken back. “Why?”

“I realized that it was you who I really wanted to be with,”
he said in the most endearing way.

If this thing had happened three or four months ago, then
surely, I would already be doing flip flops now. But since it was too late—way
too late—I wasn't feeling a thing anymore. Honestly, as I stared at his face, I
was more reminded of my surging hatred for him that if there was such thing as
a ring coming along later in this conversation, I might make him swallow it in
anger.

Then as if reading my thoughts, Aaron actually knelt down in
front of me. Then he opened a velvet box in hand, making one annoying ring
sparkle inside. My eyes widened in shock. I intently eyed him, telling him to
stop this madness and get up from kneeling right this instant. But he was
unmovable and his eyes were so insanely sincere.

What was he doing?

Murmurs were echoed from all sides. It was as if the whole
world stopped right at this moment and suddenly the focus of all eyes was on
us. I looked around and saw everyone mouthed the word 'yes' to me. They wanted
me to say yes to this man who dumped me out of nowhere and left me when I was
facing the most dreadful time of my life. He even went behind my back to date
someone else and almost married the girl.

Were they crazy?

“No,” I firmly replied. “There's no way I will ever marry
you.”

And with that, the wooing had stopped and everyone gasped.
This was supposed to be a romantic event, one where the girl was supposed to
lock herself in the man's embrace and endlessly say the word 'yes' to his ear.
Then after that, everyone would clap and wish the two the happiest memories
that would last them a lifetime.

But scratch all that, this happening that was unfortunately
occurring wasn't something like that. It was far from it. For one, none in this
freaking grocery store knew all that happened before this man knelt down on his
knees and asked me to marry him.

“Kayla, why?” Aaron was actually asking me why.

“Don’t you dare ask me that! And don’t you dare follow me
home or I’ll call the police!”

The next thing I did, I rushed out of that supermarket,
leaving all my groceries behind. Even if I wasn’t in the kitchenware section, I
might find the will to go there and stab Aaron with a knife. Such thoughts
should never be allowed to put into action. But later on, I did go to a
convenience store afterwards to grab some cola and chips. Moments like this
called for junk food consumption. And not to mention that I needed some other
basic necessities until I was interrupted from getting them.