Yellow Rose - Part 21 in English Fiction Stories by Arya Patel books and stories PDF | Yellow Rose - Part 21

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Yellow Rose - Part 21


Mr. And Mrs. Griffin's Grave

The lunch was appetizing, Evan does cook well and he bakes well too. We baked a little chocolate strawberry cake. It was delicious, of course it was a normal cake. But that's the thing about love, sugar is sweeter when heated with passion and chilli is spicier when served alongside desires! Rest of the afternoon was spent in repose, we read a few chapters of 'Persuasion' from Jane Austen sitting under a tree in the garden. We talked about random things, like mushrooms and books and classical music and flowers and colours…. Everything was so perfect. The zephyr kissed my cheeks in the tenderest way possible. The green grass was like a quilt of gaiety. But I had to ruin it of course!!!



"I espied our painting, I want to know everything. Maybe you are thinking I am not ready but believe me the only thing I need right now is to trust you completely and I can't do that unless you come clean." He nodded his head and delineated to me about us. He told me we were engaged and were supposed to be married but then I got into this accident. He told me about how we have been in love since the beginning of time and how we were in school and about the day we both were caught in my house by my dad. He was secretly visiting me and my dad saw him. He told me how my dad threatened him first but then he eventually won his heart too just like he won mine.


He told me about 'Griffin Wilson's Dine'. It was a business we both started together. It was just a small eatery 1st and then we developed it into this huge restaurant. I just kept listening to all that he said. His eyes were closed most of the time while he was talking like he was going back to those times in his head and trying to live them again. For a second I felt guilty that I forgot about all these precious days of mine with him. He kept talking and talking about our old days.


But for some reason I was not able to connect to them. I know I do not remember about it but I didn't even remember Jerry and still when he is around I can feel it. I know how his presence takes away my senses from me. When he was narrating to me about it, it felt empty. I couldn't feel the love he was narrating to me. Something just didn't feel right. I stopped him from talking and asked, "What about those debts my father has? How did he die, Jerry? And what's going on with my step brother?"


He was not very pleased with the sudden change of the topic in the conversation but he knew very well that he cannot keep things from me anymore. He sighed heavily once and began, "Your father loved you a lot. He spent all his life looking after you and making sure you don't feel like you have to grow up without your mother. After your mother he was devastated too. He felt lonely but he made you his only purpose of life. My family has known yours for a long time. Our mothers were friends and so were your father and my uncle. But then one day your father met this lady who kind of charmed him impossibly. They started spending time together. She was a widow with one son. Then your father invited her to your 18th birthday party and we all met her and her son, Tristan. She was sweet and lovable and we all liked her. You saw your father happy with her and wanted to do something for him. In a few months they got married and that's how Tristan became your step brother. But after that things that happened are really bad and I don't think you are ready for it yet. So I didn't think I should tell you about it now. I wanted to wait till you are all healed. Just not physically but mentally too. Tula you just woke up from a long sleep of seven years. Why don't you give yourself some time?"


He was right. I should take it slowly. Listening about my father from someone else like this, having no memory of him at all, it hurts too much. I didn't even acknowledge when my eyes started shedding tears. Jerry sat up and took me in his embrace, trying to comfort me. We did not talk any further but just sat there like that. "I want to visit his grave."


We were right now out of the town in a graveyard, I was standing in front of my father's and mother's grave. Jerry told me he always wanted to rest with my mother after death. Thus their graves were dug beside each other. Jerry didn't think of it as a good idea to come and visit here but he eventually gave up in the little argument we had and brought me here. The graveyard field was overflowing with tiny white flowers and young grass. The two gravestones standing in front of me read my parents' name. The air was quiet too like it didn't want to disturb me in my moment of weakness and grieving. Sun painted the evening sky with orange, pink and a bit of purple hues.


We bought some flowers too on the way for my parents and just stood there. I cried a bit in the arms of Jerry and then we left for home.

Being here with Jerry felt good. Will I be able to survive without him?


Thank you for enveloping me in your arms whilst I grieved for my losses but this unfathomable universe is incompetent of holding me when I grieve for your loss, so please don't ever make me suffer your loss.


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