The beauty of the rolling grasslands, umbrella savannah trees, fields and just the wild is enchanting. We did take a little hike up a small hill that is part of the land and could see the sheep and goats grazing lazily from up there. It’s an organized busy and breathtaking world out here. I still don’t get how people could have such a lovely farm and land and still not live on it.
My brain companions are relaxed on launch chairs drinking with straws from tall glasses not sensing any territorial ambush coming. Anything that requires me to think is considered as an ambush to my territory.
My eyes are closed as I tilt my head so that the sun light can fall on my skin where it’s seeping through the branches of the tree we are under. A wasp flies past my face and vanishes as soon as I hear it. The air is warm, dry and heavily scented of wild trees, dry grass and dust. The nature and serene easily pulls you into a trancelike state where you can easily forget that the land is owned by a mafia king.
There goes my brain again ruining my peaceful moment.
With a sigh I open my eyes and I meet Taylor’s steady gaze on me. He is sitting facing me with his legs stretched in front of him. He also looks relaxed.
Oh please half the time I really don’t know what to make of the expression on his face. He is the one with the brain that needs decoding not mine.
I tuck my hands under my legs which are also stretched out in front of me and gaze back at him.
‘What are you thinking about?’
I smile at him. Taylor’s idea of small talk is him trying to find a way into my thinking process. My brain companions rouse from their nap and stare listlessly at him—operation territorial invasion activated.
‘I’m thinking that maybe I could make a career out of sitting lazily in the sun all day.’
‘You’ve been in the sun for too long.’
I tilt my head to one side and smile at him. I just remember that I’d seen him with a polo shirt in the morning, when did he change?
‘Why is everyone formally dressed?’ I ask all of a sudden.
He sighs in an amused way, ‘is it that you really are the kind of person who wants to know what is happening around them—
‘Or?’ I raise my eyebrows.
‘You enjoy being suspicious of me.’
I purse my lips, ‘you can’t blame me.’ I shrug, ‘so there is an occasion.’
He nods, ‘apparently, the news about you fleeing had reached many people and as soon as Henry saw us together he called everyone.’
‘Henry?’
‘He manages this farm but more than that—he and I grew up together somehow… he is more like family.’
I narrow my eyes, ‘he calls you sir?’
‘His father worked here for a long time.’
Wow—I could have never pinned Mr Abiwu as someone who could keep long term servants.
‘But Celine was surprised to see me.’
Taylor shrugs, ‘actually father was the only one who knew that you were here, the others just came because they thought it was some form of meeting. That’s why all the formal dressing.’
Oh so they were here to have a nice getaway business party and then all of a sudden I walked into the kitchen—thinking about it now makes me want to laugh hysterically.
‘Henry seems very fond of you.’ I recall him almost jumping with excitement last night
‘We used to be very close.’ He says and doesn’t elaborate. There are so many stories lurking around these people’s lives they could turn into chronicles for sure.
I take a deep breath and scan around again. Its past midday and I can’t help thinking about going back to the house. We are obviously all going to have dinner together. I am dying to see how father acts around Mr Abiwu. Is he the in control male that he always is or he literally worships the ground Mr Abiwu walks on?
When my eyes come back to him, he is still silently watching me.
When is he going to stop looking at me like that? Like I am the sudden embodiment of his sweet midnight dream. It’s intense but very thoughtful. What is he thinking about? What is he searching in me?
‘Why don’t you ever sing with the Church more often?’
He shrugs nonchalantly, ‘I’m not really a church goer.’
‘They don’t mind having you around.’
‘It’s a long complicated story,’ a small line deepen on his brow, ‘I used to be a passionate choir boy when I thought my father was heaven sent.’
And I imagine what it must have been like for him to find out that his so called pulpit star father was a mafia king. I look back at him impassively. He is talking and I don’t want any expression on my face to discourage him.
‘My mother was more shocked than I was. I guess father was subtly introducing me to this lifestyle because I would have to take over most of it someday. I can say that I saw it coming but I didn’t want it to be true.’
That gives me a glimpse into his deepest source of sadness. It must have been hard to deal with being disappointed with someone you looked up to. I wouldn’t know—I have never looked up to anyone. Being a convenient child who lived with relatives who didn’t mind speaking openly about how hard it was to have to feed another mouth and my parents were never really in the picture most of my life. I learned at a young age to not look up to any person. Well except the time in college I finally opened to friends and of course horror followed.
‘I had plans but it doesn’t matter now.’ and just like that he pushes it at the back of his head
I’m about to open my mouth to tell him that it matters a lot, if it hurt that much—then it does matter. But the words get stuck on my tongue when he shifts suddenly and comes to sit closer, taking my hands from under my legs and holding them. And yes, my mind goes mush. What’s he up to now?
I usually melt with each touch no matter how small but not today. Today I have seen too much of reality in this world to live up my fantasies where I easily forget all things and turn a blind eye.
‘I wish we could have met under better circumstances,’ he says, eyes boring into mine. My brain companions sit rigidly awaiting the missile attack. ‘But even so, the outcome would have been the same.’
‘You don’t know that,’ I say, my logic and sense taking lead. It’s not like I never did my own background check. I did. And in conclusion to the research, men who appear in magazines and are followed by gossip tabloid writers were never meant to appear in my lifetime. In the real world, one out of hundred people from different social circles actually ever cross paths with each other. I happen to have been born with luck that does not include me in such a small ratio of possibilities.
‘I know!’ he says, ‘because I fell in love with you the very first second I laid my eyes on you Heather. You were strolling across the lot with your eyes closed and head titled upwards as if you had no care in the world. I wanted to see you open your eyes so that I could look deep into them and take some of that aura around you. I stood there watching you until you sank to the ground.’
That day had been a little out of my memory lately. Well it’s not me who was standing there in the middle of the lot—hot as it was must I add—meditating about studying a stranger’s eyes. So yeah I have no reason to remember that day. And I was the one who tripped on my own feet and had an embarrassing fall on the hard tarmac. Any normal person would erase that event or have sleepless nights over it for the rest of their lifetime.
My mind comes back to the present as he lets go of my hand and reaches into his pocket. My brain companions and I drop our mouth open as he brings out a small velvet box that I have only ever seen in my imagination. Not that I usually imagined proposals very often. Marriage has always been a twisted turn of fate for me ever since the incident two years ago. And even before then I had my own issues with commitment and the for-as-long-as-we-live thing.
So yeah I am not expecting him—I wasn’t expecting him to pull out that box and open it to reveal a ring I really haven’t seen before but of course steals my breath away at first sight. I have never really been much of a jewelry person. Well if you can’t afford it don’t crave it kind of thing. So the dormant part of me that dreamt of finding a treasure someday gasps at the sight of the ring as he opens it in front of me.
‘What are you doing?’ I whisper, my eyes fixed on the ring. I can’t meet his gaze right now. This is beyond overwhelming. Just yesterday I was still basking in my disastrous prospect that I had left him and all this behind me—and I was miserable I admit—and now we are here, in his hand a ring as a symbol of commitment and a lifetime.
‘This is separate from the arrangement or the rest of our families.’ He says matching my quiet tone, ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’
Crap, he just said it. He actually said it. What am I supposed to do now?
‘How is this any different?’ I still don’t look at him so I scowl at the ring instead
‘This is not an obligation or an expiring business contract. If you accept me, you accept me—if you reject me, you reject me.’
The thought of rejecting Taylor tags at my heart. Why would he believe that if I don’t accept his ring have rejected him? This is all so sudden. Oh please, everything have been fast paced ever since we met. Why didn’t I see this coming? Well yes of course I didn’t see a lot of things coming—he went in my father’s office and came out with our marriage contract. And now my parents are lounging in his father’s backyard garden like the epitome of new money. The contract as the only thing that has pinned people where they are at the moment. If I try to break it both parties will have my head. But on the contrary, I bet Mr Abiwu will do a happy dance at my absence.
And Taylor--- my heart twists—I can’t leave him. That boat has already sailed. It’s a scary feeling. It’s even scarier what I went through the last three weeks. Everything else that surrounds us within and without vanishes and there only remain him and my beating heart. The loud drumming in my chest can only draw one conclusion. I finally look at him and meet his gaze.
‘I love you.’ I tell him. All my brain companions agree with gentle smiles. I can’t help but smile at the expression on his face. I have many doubts about all this, but I don’t doubt that second that hearing me confess my love for him made him the happiest man alive.
He lifts my hand as he slips the ring on my finger and examines it with a satisfied look before bringing my hand to his lips and planting a kiss there
‘And I love you. More than you know.’
His hand drops and my hand cups his face. He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. Man he is so beautiful. I rise from the ground and push my body on him, knocking us both on the ground. My other hand with its twitchy fingers of course rushes to sink into his hair while he catches me by holding me with both hands on my waist.
He opens his eyes and smiles up at me, ‘why did I forget what happened the last time I did that,’
I remember the night he had closed his eyes with my hand on his face and I had jumped on him like I did now. I laugh lightly at the memory before I bring my lips down on his. I like this feeling. Letting go. And it’s all quiet and serene around us to erase my mind of any form of dark crazy thoughts or meditations about our fast paced crazy lives.