A Secret Revealed Ch. 03

The lullaby of silence...The fires sparked by each water droplet...The goosebumps from her hot embrace...

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After our shower session, she got herself cleaned up and walked out the bathroom with me to follow, still wobbly on my legs but able to stand, at least. We got dressed but I was forced to wear the same clothes as the night before since that's all I had at her apartment. I would have to stop by my house sometime that day to bring more clothes over. She zipped up her jeans and shot a grin at me. "Because of you, I'm going to be late!" she joked and hurried to the door. "I'll leave a key with you, okay?" rushing out the apartment, I was left to my lonesome. Unlike her, I didn't have a job. I had a private tutor for my college work and was paid monthly maintenance by my mother, even though she loathed it. Money was the only support I had ever received from my mother since I was born. If I had to die I doubt she'd care.

I sighed with a smile. That was in the past and I had much better things to worry about, like getting some clean clothes. That was first on my agenda for the day. Rose wouldn't be back until much later that afternoon. Despite her aggressive attitude towards other people, she's actually a really hard worker. You would think that those two things don't relate but you need good manners to be a waiter. I think work is one of the only things she takes seriously. I'm glad that she has something like that to put her mind to. She's using the money from her job as a waitress to buy secondhand college textbooks which keeps her busy most days that she's not spending with me.

The apartment's keys were on the table with a little bit of money underneath it. She probably left it there so that I could catch a cab and that's exactly what I planned to use it on. It felt weird leaving her apartment on a Monday morning to resume my normal routine. I made sure to grab my notepad before I left and I hugged it securely to my chest. I considered that notepad to be a symbol of our love. Maybe it was the first step towards something even more intimate. Blushing like a school girl with a crush, I nuzzled into my hood and trotted my way down the long flights of stairs. We were a real couple so was it wrong of me to think about our future? Marriage? Most importantly, kids? I would have to check with a doctor to see if having children was even an option. My 'condition' is somewhat unique so I would have to make sure. Again, the pink hue came to my cheeks and I chuckled to myself. I was thinking too much about the subject. All of that should happen naturally. No point in getting ahead of myself.

Unfortunately, the day was beautiful. I know, it sounds crazy. I just don't like clear days with the sun beaming down on me. And clear it was. Not a single cloud in the sky. I usually consider such perfect days as bad luck because of how imperfectly 'perfect' they are. Maybe I really am crazy. But, nothing could ruin my day at that point. Even a cab arrived quickly and pulled it briefly by the sidewalk. Stepping up to it, I glanced into the driver window to see a familiar face. No way. The odds of this were so slim. The same cab driver from two days ago. He smiled back with a friendly wave. Seriously, what were the odds of bumping into the same cab driver?

"Well, isn't this a surprise? I'm sure I drove you and your friend around the other day, right?" he popped the back door open for me and gestured for me to get in. I nodded and slipped inside while digging for a pencil in my hoodie pocket. Flipping open the notepad to the first page, I was finally able to try it out. Pencil to the page, I neatly wrote the address of my home before lifting it up to show him. He leaned back in his seat to get a good read of it and then glanced back up at me. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" he joked and spun around to place both hands on the wheel. Funny thing is, he wasn't far from the truth. Most people are so sympathetic and they pity my mutism and it annoys me more than if they would just make fun of it. I'd rather hear the interesting jokes in their heads than the same boring lies from their tongues. That's one of the reasons why I love Rose. She does tease me about it sometimes but I can see that she does care. This was proven by her simply buying me a notepad. It's sad that, that's literally more than anyone else has actually tried.

One of the only disadvantages of my home was how far it was from Rose's apartment. The drive took a little over thirty minutes which I spent staring out the window, silent as always. Buildings shifted from cozy neighborhoods to office blocks to less urban slumps of shelters. When the roads became more desolate then I knew we were getting closer. This part of the city always seemed so broken off from the rest of it, a leech that dangled by a single road, all polished and shiny to welcome visitors into the unknown depression. I was considered one of the more fortunate. My neighborhood was made up of a few standing mansions and everyone hated everyone else. Yup, the life of 'glamour' was all around me. I'm not ungrateful for what I have. But saying that, there's a lot of stuff I don't have either. My neighborhood was built upon gold and hate.

"Here we are! Man, I haven't been here in a while. Most people from this place have their own private drivers so I rarely get work in these parts" the driver bent forward in his seat to gawk at the towering houses around him. Everyone thinks of this place as Heaven but that's a downright lie we 'rich folk' tell ourselves to forget about the hate.

I peeked out the door before standing up. Writing something in my notepad, I turned it to show him. 'I'll be right back. Please wait'.

He looked at me curiously and nodded. "Take as long as you need" his brows still furrowed, he slumped down in his seat with his hands resting behind his head.

Replying with a nod, I carefully turned to see the place that I dreaded most. Shadowing all before it, the fine-cut marble steps held out a hand towards me, welcoming me back home. I mentally slapped it away. As if I'd come back to this place with open arms now that I had Rose to save me from it. This place was my grave; My mother, the coffin. At the very least, she was away for the next couple of weeks on a business trip. Typical of her, I hadn't received a single message from her for the past two months and nor did I bother to show the same kindness. A very distant dream of mine was that I would never have to see her again in my life...but even if I lived with Rose, I would eventually run into her again.

Placing a firm foot on the first step, I made my way up. A doorway revealed itself behind the eclipsing staircase, solid, polished and shiny like a nickel. Home was surely not where my heart was. No, my mom's pride was already in its place. Upon unlocking and opening the door, I could smell that crisp aroma, the same as a doctor's office. Clean...too clean. The curtains could practically be hanging dollar bills. Without wasting too much time, I headed up yet another flight of stairs to my bedroom. Still the same as I remember it. Dull. I took a long inhale of the only freedom I had in that place. My room was where I stayed for most of my life, only daring to leave when I needed to go to downstairs to the home-school teachers that my mother hired. Rather I stayed away from other kids, in case they were to discover my curse, she would say.

I scrounged for a bag that I once used during a fishing trip with my father. It was big enough to hold all the clothes I needed, and it was easy to fold up again when empty. Setting it on the bed, I went through my cupboards, grabbing anything I wore on a regular basis and then stuffed it into the bag. Shirts, underwear, enough hoodies to last me a week, tracksuit pants and the few articles of formal wear that I had. Almost full, I went to get another shirt when something caught my eye. Clenching my fists, I used my shoulder to open the cupboard further, casting light onto a school uniform that hung so sadly in the corner, as though turned away from the shame that the house surrounded it in. I'd worn it once in my life... It seemed so long ago that I had pushed my family to the breaking point...

No. I shook the bad thoughts away. The one thing I didn't need at that moment was to be reminded of things that would only hurt me. Slugging the bag over my shoulder, I started to head out when I stopped rather abruptly. I should probably leave a note behind for my mother, or else she'd think that someone stole all of her daughter's clothes. A strange concept, admittedly, but it could evade a future conflict with her. Sighing, I took my notebook out of the bag, taking my time to reread the message that Rose had etched into its cover. Then I flipped to its back where I carefully removed the very last page. Pen to paper, I hesitantly wrote my message.

'I'm staying with a friend for a while. I took some clothes. Evelyn'

My mother had always insisted that I be called by my full name. Evelyn. What a sophisticated and shiny name. I hated it, but it's not like I had a say in the matter. Or at least, that was until my father gave me my nickname. He started it. He called me Eve. Mother despised my it. She thought it was informal. I didn't care. I loved being called Eve. It made me feel further away from my mother and more closer to my father. While she was very distant and always working, he would be there for me. He and I would go to movies, on trips, sometimes even camping when my mother would be away for long. He made everything okay.

-11:00 AM-

"Hey, Eve. Eve!" that familiar British accent whined in my ear. Shooting my gaze forward, I awkwardly fidgeted in my seat. He sat against his table, a book in hand and a set of spectacles over his narrowed hues. "What's wrong with you today? Do you have something on your mind?" he spoke softly. Eyeing him for a few moments, I finally nodded. His hand came up to run through his hair. "I know that these classes aren't exactly fun but we need to get through this stuff. You're usually so focused..." he drifted. I looked down at my book, hoping that he wouldn't pry any deeper. "...you've been daydreaming often these past few weeks. Why is that so?" it wasn't a serious question, more like a conversation starter.

Blushing, I played with the corner of the page. The answer was clear as day. I knew exactly why I had been so lost in my thoughts lately. He noticed my shyness on the matter and subtly closed the book in his lap before setting it down. "Is everything okay?" his tone had shifted from teacher into friend. "We can't do any work with you like this. It goes in one ear and straight out the other" he joked. "So, let's talk about it, push it aside and then continue. What do you say?". I looked at him, weighed my options and decided that it would be best to tell him the truth. He was the closest thing I had to a friend, despite him also being my tutor. Although, not even he knew about my secret.

Reluctantly grabbing my pen, I flipped to a new page and scribbled a message. 'I met someone'.

He read it and a grin came to his lips. "Oh? Who's the lucky guy?" he chuckled.

Underneath my writing, I continued. 'I've been going out with her for a few months'.

As he read the new words, his grin suddenly faded. He knew my mother. He knew that I was playing with fire. "Eve..." he said sternly. "...is she worth it?".

I didn't have to think about it. 'I love her'.

"If that's the case..." he gently placed his hand on my shoulder. "...I'm happy for you" his lips spread into a warm smile. "So, who's the lucky lady?" he corrected himself.

His support carried more comfort than he thought. My mother raised me as her daughter, and so she expected me to grow old, have a husband and have his children, despite my secret. Although, I had never felt the same way. Well, I had never really felt anything in that regard. The idea of falling in love and finding that special someone was little more than a fantasy in my eyes. Who in their right mind would love a person like me, a freak? That's the way I thought, right up until the day I met Rose. She changed everything. She proved that even someone like me could find happiness.

'Rose' I smiled as I wrote it down.

"What a pretty name. How serious have you two gotten?".

'We're' I paused as the heat came to my cheeks and I danced around the word. I wanted to say that we were intimate, but my hand simply couldn't write it. 'We're close'.

It didn't take a therapist to understand my reaction to the question but he kept quiet about it to spare my shyness. He decided to change the subject. "Where is she from?" the words fell lightly onto the table and we both stared at them.

Something hit me like a brick wall. My hand refused to move. I stared wide eyed at the page before me. An answer had already been formulated in my mind but I couldn't write it down. I don't know. I don't know where Rose came from. The only place I knew was her apartment but I had no clue about anything beyond that.

"Does she have any family?".

Again, the wall slammed into me. I don't know.

"How did you meet her?".

The pen pressed to the paper but still didn't budge. I met her at the bus stop, but I never really found out why she was there in the first place. I don't know.

He sensed my distress but he had one more question to ask. The question that crushed me the most. "Do you...know her full name?".

Paralyzed on spot, my pen rolled from my fingers and into the crevice of the book. I don't know. The woman I loved...and I didn't even know her real name.

-2:00 PM-

Marriage? Kids? What the hell was I thinking? I unlocked the door to her apartment and closed it quietly behind me, making sure to lock it again. She was a complete mystery to me and yet I would blindly dive into her arms for some semblance of comfort like a needy puppy. How could I be so selfish? Walking to the bedroom, I put my textbooks onto our side table. Upon the bed was my fishing bag from earlier that day. I was a little rushed when I dropped it off and so I wasn't able to unpack it right away. There wasn't a single part of me that was interested in the idea of unzipping the bag at that moment. Giving a long exhale, I headed to the lounge area. Maybe a few levels of gore and violence would take my mind off of it. Rose wouldn't be home for a few hours so I wouldn't have to worry about the bag yet.

Everything was fired up. My aqua hues dully staring at the screen while I fitted the controller into my hands. With hopes of finding peace in this game of blood, I played and played and played. My movements were sluggish. My attacks missed. I died and died and died. Every death felt like another brick was slotted into the wall.

Finally, with one last fall, I dropped the controller and collapsed to my side. As the character hit the ground, my cheek was planted onto a couch cushion. The screen faded to black and some bloody text floated over it with the words 'YOU ARE DEAD'.

Well, it wasn't wrong.

I felt horrible. I might as well have been dead. I knew nothing about her. Only one thing was clear to me and I was so desperately sure of it, Rose loved me and I loved her. But how? How did I fall in love with a stranger? Rose knew everything about me, my secret and even my emotions. Since the day I met her, she's been eager to understand me, always asking questions, paying attention to every detail. And while she uncovered every layer of me, I was simply happy that someone cared enough to be there for me. Not once had I ever even asked how her day was or what she liked and disliked. She was always just there for me, putting a smile on my face. How could I be so selfish?

Those words hung on the screen for eternity, taunting me. Eventually, I sat up and shifted my gaze to the clock, getting somewhat surprised by the time. Rose's shift ended at five, so I would have to soon make up my mind about the bag sitting on her bed. Do I unpack it? For some reason, that idea didn't sit well with me anymore. Maybe I should just leave everything in the bag. At least, that way I wouldn't have to go home every time I needed new clothes, and I wouldn't have to commit myself to fully moving in with her. It's strange, how fast my mind was changed. That morning, I was planning our future together, now I was hesitant about our relationship even getting serious. Well, Rose would be home soon, so I needed to do something.

Pushing myself up, I peeked inside her bedroom. It sat on her blanket, frowning at me with its wrinkles and folds. For the time being, I wouldn't unpack it, not until I was more comfortable with the idea of moving in with her. I lifted it up, scanning the room for some place to set it down. The room was a little small to begin with and adding yet another thing to clutter our feet would get annoying. Under the bed? That could work. I could just keep my bag under there and then pull it out when I needed something. With some shoving then it should fit. So, that's what I did. Crouching beside the bed, I slid my bag underneath, requiring a bit of force but it was a perfect fit. I leaned down and tilted my head to make sure that nothing had caught the fabric, which there luckily wasn't, but something else caught my eye...

It was partially hidden behind my bag, red, some type of backpack by the looks of it. Of course, I was curious.

My hand slithered for it, just barely in my reach. Worming my fingertips around a strap, I slowly dislodged it from under my bag and dragged it out. I set it under the light and examined the rough, tattered bag. Holes were punched in it, the color had faded around the edges, the fabric was worn out and there was something inside of it, lumpy and thin, like clothes. I zipped it open and slowly pulled out the contents. A shirt and shorts, both just as torn and wrinkled as the bag. It was hard to distinguish much about them but I'm sure that they belonged to a girl, maybe a little younger than me. To make sure that the bag was empty, I turned it upside down and gave it a few shakes. I wasn't prepared for what fell out of that bag...

There were a few clinks and a hard thump. What? I lowered the bag to my side. Why would Rose have a gun? Empty bullet casings were scattered around it, shining from the light above me. Why? I cautiously touched its barrel, feeling the cold steel against my fingertips. Continuing downward, I wrapped my hand around the grip and lifted it up to inspect the other side. More heavy than it looked. Maybe she had it for safety reasons? What if it was just something she kept near her bed in case someone broke into her apartment or something? But that didn't explain the bullet casings. This gun was fired sometime in its life. Someone had shot it, and I was terrified of that realization. Did Rose use this gun? And for what reasons?

A key was slotted into the front door and was given a loud twist. Rose was home.

'YOU ARE DEAD' those bloody letters taunted me.

I stuffed the gun back in her bag, as well as the clothing and bullet casings. The door opened into the apartment. "Hey, Eve? I'm home" she sighed. Everything in place, I closed the bag up and kicked it under the bed, again. Out of sight. My bag could cause problems. Tugging it out from under the bed, I plopped it onto her blanket and stood up. At that moment, she appeared in the door way. "There you are" she said warmly. I glanced back at her. Why did I feel so nervous? Her hands found my hips and she nuzzled into my shoulder. "What a day..." she hummed, "...but it's worth it when I come home to you". No matter what, her words always seeped into my chest.

There's no way that she could have used that gun for something bad. She wasn't like that. It might not even be her bag. Maybe it was the previous owner's bag and they just left it behind. Rose was tough, but I doubt she would use a gun...