Chapter Four:
I was lying on the bed, trying to sleep, when the image of that handsome young man crossed my mind. His blue eyes had charmed me so much at first sight that I had given him a bouquet of flowers for free. Surely, with his unique personality, he must be laughing now at my handmade bouquet, me the stupid idiot. His coldness and the looks he was casting everywhere in the flower shop, except at me, had truly made me curious. It was so different from the tourists I was used to seeing. As for Jake, who had suddenly appeared without explaining where he had been, that was another thing occupying my mind.
After hours, I surrendered to sleep and my body finally enjoyed a deep rest. I didn't wake up early this time; I slept without realizing it. I opened my eyes with great difficulty, as if I were drunk. I looked around to find that I was still in my bed. I checked the time; it was noon.
"Oh my God! How did that happen?" I had never slept past eight in the morning.
I jumped up hastily as if I had missed an exam. In reality, there was nothing important. I just sell flowers, and it wouldn't matter if I was late or even took a day off. I didn't drink my coffee; I just put on my clothes quickly and tied my hair up messily. I didn't have much time. I had to go to the store now.
I ran on my way to the store. The weather was cloudy today. Maybe it would rain in the evening. I wasn't very careful when leaving the house. I didn't put on my thick coat, just a light one, and I didn't even take my umbrella. But it's okay, I don't think it will rain before sunset, and by then, I'll be home.
I entered the store and started arranging the flowers and throwing away the withered ones. I had a few customers, and some of them were surprised that the shop hadn't been open in the morning. Time passed while I was busy. I noticed it was six in the evening. The sun was about to set, and I should go home now.
Suddenly, it started raining and the wind was blowing hard outside. I had no choice but to sit in the shop, waiting for the rain to stop. I sat on the chair among the flowers, watching the rain behind the glass, and my memory returned to the day when I was a little girl and Steve and I decided to go to the park alone. I was four years old and Steve was ten. We had sneaked out of the house to go play there and hadn't noticed the time passing until the sky suddenly turned gray and the rain fell heavily, and the wind shook the tall trees. Steve and I were hiding inside a plastic playhouse in the garden. We were praying, even though we didn't know how. We were praying for the rain to stop so we could quickly go home.
"Steve, I'm cold and scared. I want to go home," I said to Steve.
Steve replied, even though he was scared and trembling too: "The rain will stop, Julie. Don't worry. We're going home."
He hugged me with all his strength and held my small hand, trying to warm it with his weak breath. At that moment, my parents were looking for us, and even the neighbors had gone out to search with them until they found us. At that moment, I was happy to go home, but our return had bigger consequences.
Suddenly, I no longer heard the sound of the rain. Yes, it had stopped. This was my chance to leave the store now. I quickly got up, grabbed my bag, and locked the store well. Despite the rain stopping, the wind was very strong, and for a moment, I hesitated to leave and thought about returning to the store, afraid it would rain again. But despite this, I gathered my courage and kept walking.
In my small village, no one opens their shops in this stormy weather. I found myself alone, walking in the empty, dark streets, my body shaking from the freezing cold. A few drops of water started falling on my face, and I hadn't even reached halfway home. Yes, the rain was starting again. I tried to walk fast, but the rain was seeping through all my clothes and pinching my body as if I were naked.
Suddenly, a hand reached out from the darkness, holding an umbrella to shield me from the rain. My heart filled with intense fear of who this could be. I froze on the spot, unable to move. I was afraid to look behind me.
"Miss, you shouldn't walk in the rain without an umbrella this late," he said to me in a low voice.
Wait, isn't that the voice of the same man who bought flowers from me yesterday? My heart started pounding. I turned my neck and our eyes met. I stared at him without saying anything. My tongue was tied. Yes, it was him, the one who had captured me with his eyes in a prison whose address could not be found on any map in the world. Suddenly, I stopped feeling the cold, the rain, and everyone outside. I just kept staring at him as if I were deaf and mute.
When he saw me like this,
he said: "I remember you. You are the owner of the flower shop." Then he completed his sentence: "I will take you home in my car. Please, come get in."
"What?" Was he offering to drive me home now? How could I get into a stranger's car so late?
"Oh, thank you, but really, it's not necessary. My house is close. I'll just walk," I told him.
But he refused and insisted on driving me home because the rain and wind were getting stronger; even an umbrella wouldn't be able to withstand these winds and would fly away.
He looked at me and said: "Come on, please Miss, this way."
He was so kind that he opened the door for me, and I found myself jumping into his car without realizing it. My mind was screaming that I shouldn't get in with him. It wasn't right. It was a mistake.
His car was black; even the interior reflected the darkness outside. It was truly a luxurious car, just like those of the other tourists who come to town. I was completely soaked and felt a great embarrassment to be like this in front of him.
He got in too and looked at me briefly, then asked: "Yes, Miss, where is your house? Where should I go?"
I asked him to keep going straight. I took the opportunity to examine what he was wearing. He was wearing a grey wool sweater and over it a sky-blue jacket with blue jeans.
Then I told him with great embarrassment: "Sorry, Sir, for sitting in your car like this."
Drops of water were falling from my clothes in the middle of his car, and I was in a pitiful state. I tried to hold my breath, maybe so the drops would stop. I tried to lift my body slightly from the seat so it wouldn't get wet. Even the rain and wind were milder than his car. Now, I felt like my presence with him like this was killing me. I didn't know what to do or how to behave in this situation.
He said to me, his eyes fixed on the road: "What are you saying, Miss? You shouldn't apologize at all. It's just a car. The important thing is you."
His words came out softly and measuredly, as if he had a fixed limit of words not to exceed for the day. And did I hear correctly what he said? He said: "The important thing is you." Perhaps these are kind words that can be said to anyone, but I took them in a different way, and I am free to take what I want.
I asked him to stop on the side after I arrived at my house, but the expression on his face changed as if he had seen something scary. I didn't know what was wrong, but he stopped and stayed gripping the steering wheel, looking in a strange way. I didn't know him in all his moods, but it was very clear how much his features had changed. I couldn't imagine what had happened, but I didn't know what it was.
I thanked him for driving me home, and he just nodded without saying anything, as if his word credit was exhausted for the day and there was no room to say anything more.
I got out of his car and ran as fast as possible. I didn't know if I was running away from the rain or from him. When I reached the front door of my house, I looked behind me to make sure he was still there. He was still there, watching me with the same strangeness, and then he left. I entered the house, covered in water. I immediately went to take a hot bath, knowing I would catch a cold in the morning.