âHow Strong is Your Love? â
Summer 1999
It was the most beautiful summer of John's life. His twenty-first summer where every petal was in its full glory. Like stars, falling from the heaven, soft-butter like flowers of the pink crape myrtle fell into Metilda's hair.
John was dark, at times talkative, sometimes awkward, and most times a star.
Metilda was quiet, shy, sometimes kind, sometimes understanding, and always sincere.
They sat under a tree, in the park, watching the wedding procession from a little distance away. The wedding was so beautiful that Metilda didn't have the guts to intrude. It felt wrong to do so.
So John and Metilda sat, a polite distance between their bodies, to watch everything unfold.
"Have you ever been in love?" John asked, from the corner of his eye he saw Metilda stiffen. The answer was clear as daylight.
"Yes." She bit her lower lip, which was trembling. "I really loved him." Her gaze was averted, it didn't meet his.
"What happened?"
"Sometimes," She held up her hand. And a moment later she joined it with her other hand, an inch of air separating them. "One person can't break all the walls. I tried really hard to get to him. Relentlessly, I kept trying and trying to make him see, to make him understand that he could trust me."
Metilda closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "You can't break the barrier unless the other person wants you to and he didn't want me. Which really hurt. It hurt so bad. Eventually, I became just like him until you came along..."
John want to weave his fingers through her hand. But it would be too direct, maybe it was too early. Instead, he opted to lean into the tree's rough bark.
"They keep pushing you away because they want you to try harder and when you leave, it devastates them. I saw it in your eyes Metilda. Every time you pushed me away or ignored me for days, your hands would shake whenever you saw me. It's hard to love again, once it's been lost. That what happened to me when I lost my parents. Aunt Rein was the one who put up with my mood swings. One day she forgot to call me, and Metilda I had never felt so scared in my life. I thought what if she gave up on me. What will I do then?"
"I'm glad that you didn't." Metilda whispered. The violinist was playing a broken melody, by the bench. It was his first time attempting the song. She took a deep breath. "I'm glad that you didn't give up on me."
John smiled slightly, before nodding. Black strands of hair strewn carelessly across his forehead. The melody of the violinist was growing stronger.
"Have you ever been in love?" Metilda finally asked, unable to keep it in.
"You mean before you, no. not really. I've liked girls but love-"
The colors of summer rushed to Metilda's face. The simmering sun, the hot humid air, the balminess of the wind must have done its magic. Because John had never seen her look so red.
"Are you okay, Metilda?"
She stopped mid-way a nod. "You just said- I-. John." It was clear, she was a mess.
"I've told you before, Mel. I love you."
It was the first time John had directly said those words to her. Their very first I love you. Metilda was about to open her mouth to reply, but John pressed a hand to her lips. A very bold move.
"It's okay. You don't have to say it. Not until you're sure."
Summer 2015
John stood outside the rehab center. His heart beating a mile a minute. Metilda walked out five minutes later, simply dressed in a navy blue skirt and white blouse.
John, who was wearing a tight tuxedo, had made reservations at some fancy restaurant. Metilda frowned the instant she caught his eyes, the woman around her were giggling at John like no tomorrow.
"John."
"Mel." Her heart gave a slight squeeze. It had been awhile since he had last called her Mel.
He was dressed in his finest clothes. A muffler in the left pocket of his coat, a steely grey tie loosely hanging from the collar. Sleek strands of hair combed to one side, his face freshly shaved.
Metilda didn't want this memory resurface but it did.
She sat near the windowsill, of the living room, working on a pending article. The early morning sunlight streaming through the window. It was hard for her to wake up every morning, even when her mind was too numb to think, to command her body to move, to smile when she saw her son. It was hard.
John emerged from his room. Metilda scanned what he was wearing. Nicely polished shoes, a brand new coat and shirt, an expensive watch in his left hand. He was certainly dressed to impress. No, not her. To impress Jannet.
As he drifted away, Metilda realized he wasn't wearing her favorite scent anymore. It was a new smell.
It should have hurt. Maybe a little. Because as John passed by her, he didn't even glance her way. But it didn't. Metilda was too numb to care anymore.
"How was therapy?" John asked, closing the distance between them in long strides. He stopped at a polite distance apart.
Metilda smiled at him. "It was good." He hated how vague her answers were these days. He wished she would tell him more things. "I've learned a-lot of things about myself."
"Like what?"
John and Metilda advanced towards his car. It was parked few feet away from where they stood.
"John." Metilda abruptly stopped walking when her fingers brushed against his leg.
"I'm listening." He turned to face her.
"I appreciate the efforts you're making but I'm not ready. It doesn't feel right. I'm sorry. I know I've forgiven you but it feels like we're rushing into things. I'm scared that it might crash and burn again."
It was the most Metilda had said in the past few days. John took a deep breath, the light smile on his lips seemed to be transfixed.
"We can be friends for the time being. As long as you're with me, you know Metilda I'm fine with being just friends for the rest our life."
All breaths were caught in her throat. She smirked. "Still smooth as ever, old man." She nudged her shoulder with him.
John frowned at her. "I'm not old. Not from any angle.'
"Sure, you're not."
"Hey. This isn't fair."
"Life isn't fair."
"True."
"So Johnny boy," Metilda placed a hand on her hip, while John leaned against the car's frame. "Where do you plan to take me tonight?"
John's smile grew fonder and wider. "To the golden old days."
Summer 1999
Metilda was dancing a little distance ahead of him, the cotton sun dress she wore fluttered in the air, her cheeks were stained a rosy pink as John's wild green eyes followed her.
They were in his aunt's backyard. She was out of the city for an interstate chess competition, leaving the house to his care. Metilda, bare footed, splashed in the mud puddles, leaving footprints all over the gravel.
John would have to clean it later but he honestly didn't mind. Seeing her happy made him so happy. A couple of hours of scrubbing would be worth it.
Metilda walked back to John, where he stood, leaning against the maple tree trunk.
"You know," She dragged the word. "When a boy brings a girl to an empty house, he usually has something on his mind."
John flushed red. Metilda had a hard time believing that he was the same boy who was the life of a party, confident and bold. He was everything but such when with her.
"I promise, I wasn't thinking anything like that."
Metilda narrowed her eyes at him and surveyed him carefully, her index finger tapping the tip of her chin. "I believe you."
She spun to the other side and John released a sigh of relief.
Then she looked over her shoulder, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. "But that doesn't mean I wasn't thinking about it."
Summer 2015
Metilda bit her lower lip. Amusement clear as day in her eyes. "John, you must be really desperate to bring me here."
She stood at the doorstep of his dead aunt's house.
John scratched the back of head, smiling sheepishly. "Desperate, maybe a little bit but that's not what I had in mind."
Metilda rolled her eyes. "I'm leaving."
"What? No. Wait!" John raced after Metilda as she trudged ahead. He reached forward to grab her hand which she slapped away.
"Don't touch me."
"Metilda."
John sighed. He had really cut himself a slice of trouble now. There was only one way to convince her. John could already feel himself going hot and red from embarrassment.
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Note: I'm already cracking up from what's about to happen in the next chapter. God, I do hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Sorry for the wait. I was so inspired for my new story  12th kiss slipped out of my mind. (sorry, sorry. I already have the next chapter written out so the wait shouldn't be long <3)
Lots of love,
Tallara <3