CHAPTER 3
Lucas’s POV.
The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast a somber ambiance in the room as I lay sprawled on the bed, entangled in a web of conflicting emotions. Evening was drawing neigh and the bed felt like the best place to be. The weight of anger and jealousy pressed upon me like a heavy cloak that I couldn't shake off. Sarah, my confidante and companion, had unknowingly become the source of my turmoil.
How could she have said those things and expected me to sit and listen to them?
Her animated descriptions of her new boss as a figure more alluring than me in every conceivable way stung with an unwelcome comparison. I could almost feel the sharp edges of insecurity cutting into my consciousness. As she recounted the interview, time seemed to elongate into an interminable stretch like a ticking clock echoing the minutes she spent with her captivating boss. Each passing second etched a line of worry on my furrowed brow.
I am sure that silly boss of hers is the reason she spent over three hours more than the time she told me that she would return home. She kept me waiting for her all for one rich man that she thinks is good-looking.
I groaned hard and punched the bed with anger. Jealousy bubbled within me as though it was an acidic concoction of resentment and inadequacy. The vivid images of her laughing at her boss's jokes and sharing moments of camaraderie fueled my apprehension. I didn’t see it, but I just imagined that it did.
The scenario played out in my mind like a relentless loop, magnifying my fears of her forming a connection stronger than ours. I was gripped by the irrational fear of being replaced, overshadowed by someone seemingly superior.
Should I just man up and tell her that I love her? Would she even like me or did she see me like a brother? Would anything I say make any sense to her? Do I even stand a chance to compete with her rich boss?
Beneath the veneer of jealousy, a simmering anger towards myself brewed. I berated my hesitation, a silent scream resonating with every missed opportunity to confess my feelings. The words lingered on the tip of my tongue, trapped in the cage of my insecurities. The pain of unspoken love gnawed at me, intensifying the tumult within.
As I lay there, the room became a sanctuary for unexpressed emotions. The muted ambiance mirrored the silence that enveloped my unvoiced confessions. The interplay of anger, jealousy, and self-reproach painted a complex tapestry of emotions, weaving a narrative of internal strife.
I wished there was anything I could do better. I had a thousand ideas and all of them would not work if don’t confess my feelings to her. At that moment, the bed that was once a place of comfort transformed into a battleground of emotions. It left me grappling with the tempestuous whirlwind that raged within my heart.
It took out the ring I bought to propose to her and stared at it for a while. Then I started remembering how long and hard I saved to buy it. The most annoying part was the annoying experience that I had when I was at the jewelry shop. The seller was repeatedly asking me if I could afford any of the rings. She added it wasn’t for people of my little class.
I got upset all over again as though it was just happening before me.
The squeaky sound of my door handle called me off my thoughts. Out of shock, the ring fell off my hand, bounced on the floor, and rolled to wherever. I tried looking around for it, but it was gone.
“Who is that?” I yelled out of the anger of losing my ring. “You know you could have knocked, right?” I added.
“I am sorry,” It was Sarah’s voice from behind the door. “I just wanted to check on you, you seem a bit off.” She said. Her tone was compelling, but I was not about to tell a girl I liked that I was only angry out of jealousy.
“I am fine. Everything is good.” I said. “Anything else you want to ask or say?” I asked.
“Actually, I made us dinner. If you are not too angry, you can join me.” She said.
I was famished and she knew that one of the best parts of living for me was food. So, she used it to get me out of my room.
We sat at the dining table, ready to dig in.
The dining table stood adorned, a feast for the eyes with an unexpected twist. The polished surface cradled a spectacle of abundance, but not in the conventional sense. Instead of a traditional dinner spread, an array of tempting snacks reigned supreme. Glistening bowls brimmed with an assortment of crispy chips, savory popcorn, and colorful candies. A tower of nachos stood proudly, adorned with layers of cheese and salsa.
I was disappointed because I was hoping to see real food on the table and not snacks. My face squeezed.
However, amidst the snack extravaganza, a lone salad bowl and a modest casserole dish seemed like hesitant guests in this snack-dominated affair. The table, usually reserved for more substantial meals, embraced the unconventional charm of this snack-centric soirée.
I had to quietly eat what was available.
“I thought you cooked,” I said passively.
“No, I couldn’t. I was too tired to, so I had to buy all these.” She said and I nodded in response. “You don’t like it?” She asked.
“I would have preferred a more cooked meal, but we can do with this,” I responded to her while I took bites.
“speaking of cooking,” she started talking. “You need to start cooking up a good piece of art. I know you are the best, so I enrolled you in a completion. The winning price is $20,000. Imagine if you win that kind of money.” She said.
I immediately stopped chewing and looked at her. “What did you say?” I asked.
“I know you say you don’t want to be a professional artist, but your paintings are too good to stay hidden,” she started. “Okay, see it as one of those paintings of me that you do. It is easy.” She said.
“I told you that I don’t like my work going out and you went to sign me up without my permission? What kind of a person are you?” I yelled. I was angry at Sarah for the second time in one day. I stood up, gathered enough snacks as I could, and went back into my room.
After a while, I felt like I had overreacted. Sarah was only trying to help. She didn’t deserve the treatment I gave her. I had added the previous anger and reacted drastically. So, I thought she to make amends.
I should go to her room.
I made way for her room. I just opened the door to surprise her as soon as I got there. My eyes met a sight that I had never seen.
Sarah had just finished taking her bath and the towel fell off her body when I opened the door. I saw her completely naked and I was compelled to enter the room. I had loved her for years, it wouldn’t be bad if got a taste of her succulent body.