Apple of My Eye

"And Sir? Have you told her about your..." whispered Craig. He did not want to mention the word 'wolf' loudly.

"It might not be necessary to even mention it but we'll see," he replied, leaning back onto the chair and closing his eyes. "As for now, I want the two of you to have a good stay in New York. Go and see all the tourist sights and have fun. There's an envelope on your bed. You'll find what you need inside. I'm afraid I'll have to stay a little longer here but both of you have to return home at the end of the week to tend the vineyards in my absence. It is harvest in a fortnight."

***

At the end of the week, Wade, Abigail and Craig said their goodbyes at the lobby of the hotel. It took him almost an hour to persuade Abigail that he would be fine and that the staff would tend to him should he need anything.

As he leaned back against the plush sofas at the hotel lobby, he wondered about his real motive for getting married to Amara. Truth was he didn't need to get married. If he had wanted a corneal transplant, he could have gotten one years ago but he had chosen to live his life with his blindness. It reminded him of the essence of life itself. At times, when your life seems perfect, you often overlook certain things or even close an eye over the flaws in others. The gift of sight doesn't really mean that you see things for what they are. Ironically, being blind has made him open his eyes to see things more clearly.

Marriage was simply a binding contract between two individuals. Soulmates and the likes are just an over-emphasized and advertised hoax to get people to spend lavishly on each other in the name of love. Just think about it: birthdays, valentines' day, Christmas... Even the wolf pack custom of mating was just another disguise for an evolutionary theory. Animals in the natural world seek out a mate that they consider the best choice to continue their legacy, not because they're soulmates or whatever. They choose the fittest and strongest mate because they wish their young to be able to survive in the harsh wild conditions. Why do you think males have that extravagant display of their prowess and sexuality in front of females in heat during the mating season? It all boils down to instinct and that's it. As for him, he has no interest whatsoever in mating with this woman. It was instinctive not to want to pass down a disability to the next generation regardless of whether it's hereditary or not.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he did not realize that Amara had been standing next to him until she tapped his shoulder lightly. To his surprise, she curled her arm under one of his as though to help him up and guide him as he walked. He heard the sound of wheels from behind him and guessed that she was pulling his luggage along. It wasn't that he wasn't used to being fussed by a woman, seeing how Abigail takes care of him, but knowing a woman who made no fuss about not being treated like a lady intrigued him.

Him being blind was not a reason for her not to expect such a treatment. In fact, he could tell that she didn't care if a man holds the door for her or pulls out a chair for her in the restaurant. However, she had a certain control streak about her, by the way she held his arm; not an "I'm here for you type" like Abigail but "Come on walk or else". Wade found that it amused him as much as it annoyed him. What should he make of that?

When they arrived at her apartment, she left him at the entrance as she hauled his bag inside. By the way she moved around, he could tell that her apartment had only one bedroom and he had a hunch that she was going to be camping on the couch for the next few days. Do married couples behave that way? Wade shrugged to himself and stood rooted at the front door.

She had left the balcony door open. There was no way a mere window could let in that much breeze in sweltering September.

"Amara?" he called out. "Does your cooling system happen to be broken down or something?"

She yelled back something that sounded like a 'yes'.

"Figures. One must be pretty desperate to cool an apartment that way," muttered Wade to himself as he stepped out of his shoes and felt the warm wooden floor against his socked feet. She had probably painted the house in some sort of pale pink or orange colour with wooden cornices to match the floor. He'd check with her on that but he was sure that she would try as much as possible to make her home an exact contrast to the still and sterile conditions of her office.

When she finally came out of her room to shut her front door, he heard her move to keep his shoes on the right side of the door. She mustn't have many shoes if she had space for his. But he could be wrong. Women always seemed to have more shoes than their feet could wear.

"Have a seat. The sofa's straight ahead but watch out for the glass coffee table. I'm going to make some tea."

While she was gone, Wade made his way to the sofa. This was why he hated leaving home. New environments scared him and he was always told to watch out for this or that.

When she came back, he heard her settle two cups on top of two saucers and placed a plate of something between them.

"Here's your tea," she said patiently, guiding his fingers to the cup. "Be careful, it's hot. I'll put the cookie plate on the right side of the table okay?"

"You don't strike me as the baking type," he replied, biting into a cookie and reveling in its taste. "But you're good at it. Maybe you should open a bakery and dump the whole doctor gig."

"I bake a lot... when I'm stressed. How do you know that?"

"It's the cooling system's fault really. It doesn't vent the butter and sugar smell out of the apartment that well. But it's nice... it's homely."

"Right. And secondly, what you don't like doctors?"

"Nah... they always think they know everything. Always want to be in control of the situation, always thinking they're the smartest person in the room." He gave a noncommittal shrug and grinned. "But obviously they're wrong, especially if they're sitting in a room with me."

She choked back a laughter, "Yeah right. Smart mouth."

They kept silent for awhile, each not knowing what else to say to the other. It suddenly dawned upon Amara that she was about to get married to this stranger in front of her and she didn't know anything more about him except that he's a gardener from England.

"I..." she stammered, not knowing where to begin. What do you tell a person you've just met whom you're getting married to? This must be how couples who have arranged marriage must feel: Awkward.

"I'll start first," he said simply, sensing her hesitance. "I'm the eldest of five siblings. I have three sisters and my only brother, is the youngest. My family has been in the wine and brew business for many years, although my parents are semi-retired now. However, I live alone with my caretakers, Abigail and Craig Fletcher. Oh and I've been blind since I was 27years old. My records will show that I am now 37 but age is just a number. I feel way older than that." Wade grinned and pointed to her.

"I know how you feel. I mean, I hate telling people my age because I don't look like my age and they'll start asking all these weird questions and asking if I've ever had surgery... sorry, digressing. I'm actually 30. I've just earned my medical license two years ago. I did my residency in Kaiser Permanente Northern California... yes I know it's on the other side of the coast but hey, everybody comes to New York at one point or another. For me, it doesn't really matter where I work 'coz I don't have any family. I was in foster care for a few years and the moment I was legal I got the hell out of the system. I worked my ass off for the top grades in class so I could get scholarships to be a doctor."

"But why plastic surgeon?"

"Because it's where the big bucks are. I knew what it was like to be poor and not have the money to buy what I wanted and I hated it. So I know how you must feel. Anyway, I heard from some kid back when I was young that you either be a politician, a lawyer or a doctor if you want to be rich. Either that or you gamble big time or hook yourself to a rich bastard."

"Being a pretty accessory doesn't suit you?"

"Nah. Ironically, beauty is now my business and I see so many young women going under the knife willingly to become one of those pretty accessories."

"Ah well. One has to sacrifice to survive."

Amara smiled and lifted her cup. "I'll second that. Salut!"

Wade imitated her gesture and leaned back. "Tell me, Amara... why do you insist on sleeping on the couch tonight?"

"I haven't insisted on anything yet!"

"Ah but you were planning to when you tell me to take your bed tonight."

Amara kept quiet. She wished he could see her glaring at him right now. Why does he have to be smart assed about everything?

"You take the couch then," she scoffed and got up

"That'd be so mean of you. I'm the guest remember?" he teased as he heard her walking away. "You're always welcome to share the bed with me!" he shouted out and heard her grumble away, much to his amusement.

However, to his dismay, he found himself curled on her uncomfortable couch for the night. His only glimmer of hope was that she had left her bedroom door ajar, possibly with the intention of being within an earshot of his cries.

Wade couldn't help himself. He was a man locked in the same house with a real breathing woman. How many years had it been since he was with one? Ten, fifteen years? It was an animal's instinct to react to the opposite sex. And he was an animal, in more ways than one. Wade chuckled at his own joke before curling up and trying to shut his eyes. He'll make love to her someday... but not tonight.

***

October 2010

It was the first day of the month. It had taken Amara longer than she expected to get the paperwork processed. Although Wade had provided her with all the necessary documentations, it was still a complicated process. They were scheduled for an interview at a later date to ascertain the validity of their petition to marry. When she told him, Wade simply leaned back on his couch lazily and covered his face with a pillow.

"You could just get married to an American you know. Saves us both the time."

"I don't like to do things halfway. I mean you're already here so that means you do have some interest in this marriage thing right?"

"That would be very intuitive of you. But I have no interest whatsoever in this marriage."

"What?" Amara almost broke her heel as she spun around to face him. "What do you mean?"

"It's just a contract to me. I believe the marriage will help lay off that scary boyfriend of yours and I get a chance to get my eyesight back right? Then you can do a quickie divorce, whatever. Isn't that the plan?"

Amara threw a mini cushion at Wade. Technically he was right but why was she feeling so angry at his words? Knowing that she was angry at him for saying the truth made her angrier with herself. Throwing her hands up in the air, she stormed into her room and slammed the door.

After awhile, she felt calmer and slightly guilty for walking out on him in the middle of a conversation. She opened her door slightly and took a peek to see where he was. Apparently Wade was still sprawled on the couch. She didn't blame him. It was nearly 11pm.

"Wade? Are you still up?" she whispered.

"Mmm? What? Are you going to have another bout of temper? I don't think our neighbours are going to like it much," he replied; his voice muffled by the pillow on his face.

She opened her door wide and leaned against the door frame.

"We've still got to pass that interview you know. They'll ask every possible question that you could think of and random ones at that. Like what's my favorite color, do I like my coffee black or with milk or even what type of underwear I prefer."

Wade took the pillow off his face but didn't open his eyes.

"I can just tell the officer I can't see you know. He'll take pity."

"A relationship isn't based only on what you see Wade," she replied in an annoyed voice.

"I know that. Like for example, I know that you're annoyed at me because I'm almost always right and you like to shift your weight on one leg when you get impatient. I also know that your favourite colour is pink or orange or some warm pastel colour. Also, you prefer tea to coffee although I do suppose you drink coffee... with a little milk but lots of sugar just like how you take your tea. Am I right?" When she didn't answer, he grinned. "And I can know that you wear either silk or satin underwear all the time, even at home."

Amara raised an eyebrow. "Have you been groping me in my sleep, Wade?"

"Maybe."

"Seriously!"

"Oh come on. I'm a gentleman. But I can tell by the way your skirt or pants material slide smoothly when you walk. There's no scratchy sounds characteristic of cotton on nylon and so on. However, I can usually tell when you're not wearing matching lingerie because it's rare to not hear your blouse scratching all over your..."

"Shut up. That's enough description or else you're sleeping outside in the balcony." Even as she threatened him, Amara couldn't help a smile. It was hard to stay angry at him even when he was being annoying. Shaking her head, she turned to go back to her bed.

"Amara?" he called softly. When he sensed that she was looking at him, he continued, "My favourite colour is purple... or magenta really, like the colour of ripe grapes and wine. I don't really like tea much but I'm too kind to tell you that. I drink my coffee with half the cup full of milk and I prefer briefs to boxers as I feel more secure."

Amara smiled and walked towards him. "Thanks Wade." With a smile, she pulled his blanket up to his chin and bent down to press a kiss on his forehead. Even in the darkness she could make out his features and noticed the sexy curve of his lips which she always found alluring. She debated with herself about kissing him and stood in that bent position for some time before she felt one of his hands moving up from her arm to her neck to pull her gently close.

The touch of his lips on hers was casual and meant not to last for more than a second. However, something seemed to sizzle and they remained lip locked for a while longer, each unsure of the next move.

However, being on top gave Amara the upper hand so she pulled away and stared at Wade. His eyes were open and staring up; unable to focus on anything. At that moment, Amara wished that he could see her and see for himself how desperately she wanted to kiss him again.

Wade began to smile and searched for her face, tapping his hands upwards from her shoulders to her cheek. He caressed her cheek softly and whispered, "I want to kiss you too, if you'd let me."

His kiss was gentle and curious at the same time, coaxing her lips open to draw out her tongue. Amara's heart was pounding slightly as she dared herself to deepen the kiss. She slanted her lips over his, seeking more, demanding more.

"Wade..." she murmured against him. She rested one knee between his thighs on the couch, her hands at either side of his head and leaned her weight slightly on top of him as they continued their kiss. She could feel him getting slightly hard beneath her but he made no attempt to move his hands from her neck. She was about to move his hand down towards her breast when she felt him tense up without warning.

"Shh," he said, placing his fingers on her lips and using his other arm to gently push her away. "There's someone outside your door."

All thoughts about the kiss went out the window as she felt cold sweat prickling at her neck. Her hand reached slowly for Wade's walking stick and unfolded it as quietly as she could. Instead of giving it to him, she held it up like a baseball bat, ready to swing it into action.

Wade rolled onto the floor silently and got on his hands and knees. He could scent Amara's fear and knew that she was too scared to say or do anything to stop him. He moved across the wooden floor soundlessly, using his hands on the floor as a guide, sensing the vibrations of whoever's outside the door. It was a man; the same man with the wide soled loafers who approached him previously but he had stopped pacing.

Wade stayed grounded, ready to pounce should the man attempt to enter. He would shift if necessary; damn the consequences. He perked his senses and waited with the patience of a predator that was going for the kill.

The floorboards creaked slightly....

Wade heard something scraping underneath the door.

Then the man was gone; the sound of his footsteps walking away from the door. Wade stayed in position a while longer to make sure that the man was really gone before he got up.

"Come here. He pushed something underneath the door. What is it?"

He heard Amara shuffle slightly but she didn't come towards him.

"Is... is he really gone?" she asked instead.

"Yes," he replied with as much reassurance as he could muster.

"Okay," she squeaked and tiptoed towards him. He heard her squat to pick up something before she gave a gasp and took a step back. "Oh god... oh my god..."

Wade remained silent for awhile before he asked what's wrong.

"You belong only to me and no one else," she read, trembling slightly. "If... if you continue your blatant act of defiance, there will be consequences." Amara gave out a long breath.

"Is that all?" asked Wade gently.

"No... He uh..." she stammered. Wade moved forward and reached out to hold her close. "There's a... a picture of a decapitated stick man drawing." She whispered the last few words and buried her face at the crook of his shoulders. "We have to get out of here tomorrow... we have to go. I... I should pack."

Wade didn't reply but held her closer. He thought this man was just your average jilted lover turned stalker but the situation does seem slightly more severe than that. This man was capable of violence or abuse... at least not physically but he had hurt her, emotionally and psychologically. Just the thought of her cowering in fear made him want to rip the man's head off with his teeth.

When he felt her shudder in his arms, Wade shook himself out of his thoughts and patted her back slowly. "I would carry you back to bed if I could but I can't. However, I can sleep with you tonight if you want some company. I promise I will not do anything that you do not want me to. I will never hurt you," he whispered softly to her ear.

He felt her nod as her hand clasped around his and lead him into her room. Even in her distraught state, she carefully led him to the bed and pulled the comforters over him before getting into bed herself. Wade let her curl up against him and waited until she had drifted off to sleep before he allowed himself to follow suit.

***

He awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, shocked for a moment to find himself in bed with a woman. He almost called her "Cassie" before his half-asleep mind jerked into full consciousness and he stopped himself.

"Bloody hell," he cursed, slowly trying to sit up. Why the hell was he thinking of her for? It must be all that drama about the ex-lover earlier that made him think of her. Perhaps at the subconscious level, he still missed her. It had been over a year since he had any dreams of her.

"Wade?" whispered Amara groggily. "Is something wrong? Is he back?" Wade felt her tensing. Drawing her close, he let her head rest idly on his chest.

"No, everything's fine... I'm here," he replied, patting her arm softly, trying to put her to sleep. Amara felt comfortable and peaceful leaning against him even though she didn't feel sleepy anymore. Up close, she noticed that he did not use any cologne and smelled only of soap. Even then, she found it alluring. Her fingers carelessly played with his pajama buttons, twirling it between her fingers.