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A Short (Probably Damn) Story: Part Two

Updated on August 15, 2016
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Patrick Patrick just recently started posting articles on Hubpages. He is a graduate with a degree in Bio-medical Sciences.

Part Two of This

Writing Still
Writing Still


IT‟S 8 IN the night, darkness has already set in. She should have been home hours ago, but dutifully agreed to stay a little longer with him for dinner, it was his 26th
It was a blatant fact was that they loved each other’s company, a bit excessively-maybe unhealthily, and whenever they were about to part ways, they would find a reason to spend a little more time together. He would make leading assertions like; `Or we could grab another cup of coffee? ` `Or we could walk on a little more? ``Or we could stand here a little while longer? ` And so forth- she would often give in without much thought.
This night was different though; he didn’t have to try as hard to make her stay as was their typical antagonistic tango- which they both secretly endeared; she seemed readily receptive to the idea.
They had been together most part of the day, aimlessly walking around the city in circles, engaging in small arguments here and there that saw no end or significant conclusions, sharing hearty laughs and subtle intimacies.
Such was their routine, and they never seemed to get bored of it; it was everything.

He apologizes as he walks a half step behind her, guilty that he had made fun of the present she had given him earlier but still milking on her derriere beauty and drinking on her vanilla aura which almost hypnotizes him-men.

-----While at dinner, she had given him a painting decorated with the moon with three little stars around it----
There were also beautiful Calligraphic words inscribed at the bottom: „HAPPY BIRTHDAY‟-

It was the first birthday they were celebrating together.
Being the first weighty occasion they were sharing together, she hoped to make it special, and one that they would both remember- and what more special than a priceless hand-made painting.

She was good with art, and often made sketches and paintings inspired by nature, people and
architecture. She had spent a good part of the previous week working on the painting she would give to him on his birthday hoping he would love it.
She didn’t mean to be melodramatic when she left him at the bistro; she was just bothered by the fact that he had made a little joke about the painting. She worried that he did not take her seriously, that he was also being flat out unappreciative

.She always joked about it, but she really
would have brought him the moon and stars if she had
to; she would do anything for him.

Was love really enough? Was he really her right
mate? Would they really go all the way? Did they even
have a future together?
He may have made a trivial joke, but it bred many
“really”? -kind of questions that he never contended for.

`Give it back Jeremy, give it back! ` She says fuming
like rattled lioness trying to snatch it from him. `I should
have never…`


Jeremy muttered, holding it tight to his chest,
`Baby I didn’t mean to…I was only kidding? `
He regrets ever making the joke though he still thinks she’s overreacting.

She does not reply when he apologized so he goes on again holding up the painting in the air,

`I will hang this on my wall after making a nice frame for it, he continued ` hoping to get a little smile on her face. He always felt at ease when she did but she does not even give the
slightest hint of it this time.

She started dialing her chauffer, threatening to go home. „I have to get home now, it’s
late. `

He always hated it when she had to go.
She lived a little far from the city so she always had to leave earlier than they both really wanted. Their goodbyes were trailing, difficult and unending. She oftentimes regrettably left him in a languished state.
This night was different. She eventually gave him a little forgiving smile, hang up the phone and strut fast past him -miss theatrics - he followed beaming, somewhat happy and surprised that she had agreed to stay.

As they slowly paced one deserted street, fondly holding hands and throwing warm glances at each other, they walked by a display window of a small jewelry shop and she stopped there looking at this simple platinum ring that had tiny beautiful star carvings on its surface.
Well, will you look at that…She seemed dumb-struck probably picturing that dazzling band on her finger.
Jeremy was waiting for her to say something about the ring but she snapped out of it and said something totally un-related, `If I didn't love you so much I would be miles away right now-Jogging or something.` He grinned since he knew how much she hated running or
anything that related to it,

“I’ll be right back”, he explained as he tucked a strand of hair behind her left ear..

He then walked into the store leaving her by the window and headed straight to the jeweler.
She watched them carrying on with a chummy conversation but she could not decipher it.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of notes that were clearly not enough to buy
anything in that particular store.
Again he went into his pocket, the back one this time, pulled out his wallet and handed his identity card to the jeweler as he pointed at her through the window probably saying something about her.
She stood there wondering to herself, “what’s he up to this time?” - He always had little whimsical ways of apologizing each time he did something to upset her.
It wasn’t long before he walked out with the ring and immediately tried to put it on her left middle finger. It could barely fit so he tried her other fingers which didn’t fit either- to retreat from that frustration, he gently placed it on her palm. She almost rolled her eyes.

Jeremy looked up at her brown eyes expectantly.

It’s the thought that counts...

She clenched the ring in her palm and smiled as they walked on.

`I hate you so much Jeremy Cook`- she said this whenever she accepted his apologies.
`I hate you so much more Karen Jacobs` he almost shouted with the satisfaction that she had accepted his apology.

Writing Away

Just continuation I guess...

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