CHAPTER 3 Buried Thoughts
"I believe we've met before, but in case you have forgotten, let me refresh your memory. The name's Johann, and I am your husband-to-be."
Kendra's POV
I was holding it just right, keeping my eyes shut so the tears won't fall. And I was doing fine, but I think I need to get out of here before the suffocation gets the best of me.
I stood up not being able to bear the truth–the truth that no matter how I tried, it will always be Sandra between the two of us. As he mentioned her name, my heart constricted, and felt all the blood in my veins solidified.
I heard him call my name, "Kendra, are you alright?" he uttered with a worried voice. My initial reaction was, did he ever call her that way, too?
My heart revolted and wanted to smack him for the first time, he was asking for a divorce and he expected me to be alright, Are you fucking dumb, or just don't care at all? I wanted to tell him these, I wanted to curse him, but my little peanut wouldn't have wanted that.
So instead, I just gave him a fake, senseless smile and asked what the reason was, even though deep inside, I already knew since I heard him talking to her a while ago.
The conversation was short but I saw the changes in his gestures. He was thrilled and excited to receive a call from her, So she still got that effect on him, huh? Even after all the sex and conversation we shared, I was nothing compared to her.
I sighed, thinking how foolish of me to think I could replace her. I thought making him fall in love with me in three years would be possible, but I guess I was wrong.
I even thought the hug I gave would affect him, but I guess not at all.
I took a deep breath, trying to process everything, trying not to get stressed so my baby won't know or feel a thing. I stood up, and that's when he caught the pregnancy report crumpled in my hand.
I saw him eyeing it a while ago, but I didn't know it would stir him up. Without knowing what it is, it just looks like a simple piece of paper, but his eyes must be keen to realize I was holding one.
My head hurt even more. I am confused about what to do. Should I tell him, or not? But he's asking for a divorce, isn't he?
So I decided to bury the topic by simply throwing an excuse. Forgive me, little peanut, maybe it will be just me and you from now on.
"It's nothing, I just need to throw this out, I'll be back," I gave him a cold treatment and went on my way.
I maintained my great posture as if the shocking divorce agreement in my hand didn't bother me at all. But once I was out of his view, my body began trembling, my tears burst unstoppably, and I felt the air was too thin that morning.
My surroundings began to dance, so did my vision. My legs wobbled so I had no choice but to lean towards the wall across the hallway–the one that was filled with our wedding pictures.
A pinch in my heart resurfaced, and I began to question, Why did I agree to this? Was it because I loved you even before you noticed me? Was I greedy for wanting to get your full attention? Why?
I sat down on the floor, buried my face, and hugged my knees tighter, trying to recall the conversation we'd had after our sudden marriage was announced.
TWO YEARS AGO
My mom asked me to meet the sole heir of the Petersens, but it wasn't a casual meetup, but rather, the discussion of our filial wedding.
They sent a car to pick me up and their chauffeur brought me here to this fine-dine restaurant. I was nervous and exhilarated at the same time.
Their family has been good to us since they took us under our wings and I happened to know Johann and have kind of admired him ever since. But he was a man of few words since we were teenagers, and on top of it, he has a girlfriend.
So I was thrilled to know that I am arranged to marry him. Why would he agree to it when he's got a love of his own? That was the main mystery I wanted to know.
I already drank two glasses of white wine when he arrived. I could feel the hair on my neck crawl when I heard his deep voice, "Ms. Summers?"
"Oh god, is this really happening?" I asked myself millions of times. But instead of receiving him warmly, I just sat frozen and let out a soft answer, "Uh-huh."
I heard him chuckle and the next scene was indeed a fantasy. I saw a man in his dashing blue-gray suit sitting across from me, widely smiling while his eyes examined me.
And I was the complete opposite of him, I was a mess who couldn't even sit still in front of this godly figure.
He noticed my inconvenience and he was gentlemanly enough to react to it. He stood up, came towards me, and bent over until our faces were an inch apart. Then he lifted my face and I felt I was about to pass out.
He whispered in my ear, "I believe we've met before, but in case you have forgotten, let me refresh your memory. The name's Johann, and I am your husband-to-be."
Oh god, I need to calm myself down, his voice, his breath, everything about him was so, I don't know, I couldn't even explain myself, maybe uh, turned me on was the right expression.
Then he let out a smile then gave me a warm short kiss–our first greeting, my first kiss. Blood rushed to my cheeks and I felt extreme warmth all over my body.
Then he went back to his seat and exclaimed, "It was not nice to make a lady wait, I am sorry but I had an urgent meeting."
I nodded, but the next thing that came out of my mouth even baffled me, And that kiss, what was that for?
He shrugged his shoulders, "A form of greeting I guess. I learned it when I traveled in Italy and I guess that works in America, too, don't you think?"
His personality came out strong. He was no longer the timid boy I remembered. Surely, he had grown into a fine hot man.
And I would say I would be stupid if I let the opportunity to marry him pass.
He was a breather, and finally, my heart was at ease, thanks to him who set the mood like that.
"Now, let's set the wedding date, shall we?"