Chapter THREE - The Conversation

ROSALIE’S POV

Thirty minutes into the drive and Jonathan had not said a word. His hand still gripped the steering wheel tightly and had not loosened one bit. If it were not for his white knuckles, I wouldn't have known his mood since his posture seemed relaxed—the opposite of how he was feeling.

I sat with my hands in lap as I contemplated on what to do. It wasn't that the silence was uncomfortable, it was quite comforting actually. However, I found myself grabbing at straws trying to think of a way to make him feel better—to make him smile again. Somehow, his mood really affected me and I desperately wanted to take his sadness and frustration away.

In the end, I came up with nothing and I did nothing.

Another thirty minutes went by and I finally spoke up. "Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

He didn't answer and just kept driving. I looked at him one last time before I turned to gaze out the window. I decided to wait until he was ready to tell me, if he wanted to tell me at all.

Eventually, he pulled into an airport observation area and parked the car. There were a dozen other cars parked around us with people in them watching the planes take off.

We sat in silence a while longer as we observed one airplane landed closest to us made its way toward its designated gate.

Finally, Jonathan spoke up, his voice low and calm. “You live with someone almost your whole life and you think you know them only to find out 23 years later that it was all a big lie." He said dejectedly as his hand came up to comb through his perfectly styled hair.

I stared at him quietly as I waited for him to continue.

"Growing up, I always looked up to my father thinking that he was the kind of the man I wanted to be. But recently, my mother and I found out that he had a mistress this whole time while he was married to my mom. They even have a daughter around my age." He said sadly as his arms crossed over the steering wheel while he lowered his chin onto them.

"Now, he wants to divorce my mom. My mom won't sign the papers and is fighting back at full force. It's not that she wants his money since she has more than enough for herself. I think she just wants to hurt him as much as he had hurt her." He straightened and leaned his head back against the headrest while I stared at his flawless profile.

"Eventually, the court will grant the divorce even if my mom doesn't sign. However, that will take a couple years and my mom intends to make his life miserable until then. Also, my dad wants to marry his mistress right now and that's another reason why they're fighting so hard." His hand came up and rubbed down his face tiredly.

"It's hard watching the two closest people to you fight. Even if one is wrong while the other one is right, it's still hard to pick sides let alone when one is wrong and I'm not sure if the other one is completely right. It didn’t help that my dad's been forcing me to get my mom to sign. He went so far as to kick me out of his company and froze all my assets. Well, they were the company's assets so he could easily take them all back but still." He sighed and closed his eyes, still leaning his head back.

My brain processed what he said while my eyes still continued to study his handsome face.

When he didn't speak up again, I said, "I'm so sorry. I'm sure it's tough for you being in the middle of it all." I didn't know what else to say. It was one of those situations where there wasn't any real advice to give.

I guess sometimes all you can do is listen and you hope that is enough.

He turned to look at me for the first time since we got in the car. "You're the first person I told about this." He smiled sadly. "I haven't felt like telling anyone this—throwing my family's dirty laundry in their face."

"I'm sure every family has its own dirty laundry. We all have skeletons in our closets—some more than others—but we all have it nonetheless.

"Really. What's yours?" He teased as his mood brightened a little.

I remained soundless as I looked down at my hands.

"I thought so." He said mockingly. "You got no skeletons. You're Miss Proper-and-perfect. Even your clothing choices show that."

"Hey. I am not that proper or perfect." I looked up at him as I lamely countered his statement. He made it sound like I was a boring person, or at least that was how I took it.

"Really. Then what’s the most improper thing you've ever done?" He taunted me.

What? How did we get to this topic and about me no less.

I couldn't think of anything to say to contradict him.

At my silence, he smirked like he had won. "See. I knew it!"

"It's not that I haven't done anything improper. I just haven't had the chance yet." I said and instantly realized how stupid that sounded. I decided to turn it around and challenged him instead. "What about you? What HAVE you done?"

"I'm not telling you. You haven't given me anything worthwhile in exchange." His smirk turned devilish while his eyes turned mischievous. "Besides, your virgin ears aren't ready for it."

Heat rose from my neck to my face as I took in his meaning. At least, he was in a better mood—enough to tease me—and that made me happy.

"I think we need to leave." I tried to change the topic. "The last car just left."

He looked around and nodded. "Yeah. Let's go home."

************

JONATHAN’S POV

Surprisingly, I felt much better after talking with Rosalie last night. She didn't say much throughout the night but it was comforting to have someone listen to my troubles without voicing judgement.

Today, I took her grocery shopping since we didn't have any food in the apartment. She was super ecstatic since it was another thing she had never done. It was quite entertaining watching her in the store.

She seemed so happy being around the food that one would think she was starved as a child or something.

She grabbed a bunch of random stuff and threw them in the cart: fruits, snacks, milk, eggs, some frozen dinners, bread, peanut butter and jelly. I had to keep myself from laughing out loud.

She stood looking at the shelf filled with boxes of cereals, her lips were slightly parted as she marveled at the many choices. I couldn't hold it in any longer and guffawed. "You act like you're looking at some rare gemstones. Just pick something already."

"They are and I can’t.” She complained while still examining her options. “I mean look at all these choices. I can't decide which to try first."

"Just get them all and try a different one each day." I pretended to offer.

"Yeah. I'm going to do that." She agreed and started grabbing the cereal boxes.

"Woah. I was kidding. Ever heard of sarcasm." I tried putting some of them back on the shelf. "How about you get half of them today and we'll get rest once you finish them."

"Fine." She relented and her signature pout appeared. I noticed that she would do it whenever she was disappointed at not getting what she wanted.

She is so amusing. Somehow, I find myself laughing at almost everything that she does.

I looked at the cart and chuckled. "You know that none of the stuff you picked are real food besides the fruits and eggs right?"

"Huh?" She looked at the cart and inspected the food inside. "What's wrong with the food I chose?”

"We need meat and vegetables." I offered helpfully.

"Maybe." She said after some thought. "It's just that my parents have been on this low carb diet for a few months. And all we've been eating were meats, vegetables and other nasty low carb stuff that I'm just sick of them. I'm ready for some junk food." Her brown eyes shined brightly at the last statement like she was taking the biggest risk of her life.

"Wow. You are quite the daredevil." I tittered.

"I am aren't I." She said proudly and my fingers came up to pinch her cheek before I knew what I was doing.

“Hey!” She frowned as she rubbed the sore spot.

“Let’s get some meat and vegetables before we leave. We can make tacos for lunch tomorrow.”

She didn’t react and continued to massage her cheek. “Let’s get some ice cream after this.” I proposed and she instantly brightened.

I knew it. She would probably follow anyone who would present her with food.

I chuckled. “You are way too easy to please.”

“Is that a bad thing?” She asked innocently.

“No. Not at all.”

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A/N

What did you think lovely readers?