Chapter 321

Julie’s point of view

He answered me with an extreme emotional tenderness that flowed like an anesthetic into my tired limbs: "I do this certainly without interruption every week, Julie... I go there and leave him fresh white roses, and whisper to him that his distant mother loves him very much and has never forgotten him for a day."

In that exact second, the burning tears poured from my eyes abundantly like a waterfall. I pressed with my palm forcefully over my mouth to stifle my crying gasp and the sound of my weeping, and said in a completely choked, lost voice: "Thank you, Max... thank you so much. I must cut the connection quickly now."

He said with regret and sadness for my state: "Goodbye, Julie... take care of yourself."

I distanced the phone from my ear with supernatural speed and cut the connection instantly so that I would not explode into hysterical crying and weeping before him in weakness. Suddenly and without warning, I heard a light, quiet knock on my room’s door, followed by Steve’s voice from the outside without opening the door or breaching my privacy, saying in an ordinary tone: "Julie... I am going now to work. Do you need anything?"

I wiped my face and tears quickly with the tips of my fingers, and before he could glimpse my sadness and brokenness from behind the door, I said in a voice feigning strength and artificial steadfastness: "No... good luck to you in your work."

The moment his footsteps vanished and settled outward, I threw my body in a total collapse over the bed, buried my face completely in the pillow, and began crying with a bitter weeping that ripped the strings of my heart. I missed my departed little son to madness... I missed his warm childish scent and his features of which I did not drink my fill. Even Steve did not let me take any of his small clothes upon our flight to breathe them in when longing slaughters me. I remembered his small hands, his innocent and gentle face... why was he born dead and destiny deprived me of him? Why? Did he not want to be my son and live with me? Did he not want me as a mother to him? Or was I indeed a bad mother who wanted to kill her hope herself?

Suddenly and without any prior warning, the room door opened with power and violence. I jolted with panic and sweeping terror, and raised my head quickly, my eyes completely reddened and filled with abundant tears, the pillow wet under my face. My disapproving gaze froze at the doorstep, and I saw Jake standing in his full long stature.

His face paled and his eyes widened in total astonishment and shock at the sight of my tears and brokenness, and he uttered in a surprised, serious tone completely void of his usual sarcasm and insolence: "You... you are crying?! What happened?"

I gasped in oppression and intense vexation, and moved with a swift motion to wipe my tears and signs of weakness with my palms with extreme nervousness, and shouted in his face with a faltering, choked voice: "Get out of here right now, you cursed scoundrel! Get out!"

But as usual, he ignored my shouting and insults completely, and took a wide step inside while looking around with coldness, saying with provoking insolence: "Where do I find the tissue paper for the bathroom?"

I adjusted my seating over the bed, ground my teeth forcefully, my eyes shooting a burning spark to kill him, and asked him with intense vexation: "You idiot... don’t you know the manners of knocking on the door and asking for permission before entering?!"

He shrugged his shoulders with cold indifference, and tilted his head, saying with a customary insolence worthy of him: "And why should I knock on the door in the first place? I see no reason for that in this house."

I stood on my feet with an angry momentum, and shouted with sweeping convulsion: "I am a girl living here, you fool! Do you not comprehend tactfulness and know that it is inappropriate to enter my private room like this without permission and surprise me in this state?!"

He darted a scanning, cold, and mocking look at me from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet in inspection, and waved his hand in the air, saying with a petty belittlement that aroused my fury: "I do not truly think that you are a girl at all with these wild actions of yours... and anyway, looking at you, there is nothing I see here that arouses my interest to ask permission because of it."

I flared up with burning rage and a sweeping desire possessed me at that moment to strike him and crush his face. I advanced toward him with destructive, decisive steps, stood before him toe-to-toe, and said with a stern challenge: "Repeat what you just said to me!"

A provocative smile twisted upon his lips, and he took a step backward, saying with amusement: "What? Did my words not please you, and that I simply do not see you as an attractive girl?"

I fixed my index finger before his face with a firm threat and an absolute evil: "You will knock on this cursed door politely before you dare to enter again, Jake... do you understand my words well?!"

He sighed with boredom and belittlement, saying: "Fine, fine... where is the toilet paper now?"

I extended my palms with extreme nervousness and pushed his solid chest with excess force to clear myself a way out of the room. I headed with tense steps toward the kitchen, opened the cabinet door violently, and snatched from it a roll of toilet paper. Then I turned to him, brought it down, and threw it into his hand, saying with detachment and harshness: "Take it and get out of my face!"

I turned to exit the kitchen, but with a lightning, agile, and highly rapid movement, he extended his long arm and blocked my way completely, holding onto the edge of the wooden wall to trap me between his body and the wall. He fixed the look of his blue eyes for the first time into my eyes and asked in a low, deep voice: "Why were you crying with all that oppression inside? What hurts you?"

I turned my gaze away from him with stiffness and stubbornness, and said in a dry tone of voice: "What is it to you? Get out of my way."

Jake loosened his arm a little downward to release my trap after he saw my stubbornness, and sighed with quiet features, saying: "You are indeed a complicated girl... you cannot let a human treat you with kindness."

I looked directly into the depths of his eyes with a blatant challenge and said with harshness to distance him: "I do not want kindness from anyone... keep your fake kindness to yourself!"

I ducked from under his arm with speed and lightness, and headed with wide strides to my room, closing the door behind me with strength and emitting a loud sound. I rested my forehead against the wood, my mind screaming with vexation and fury... I must truly, and at the soonest time, request Steve to repair the lock of this cursed room at the fastest so that I can lock it with the key and prevent this mocking scoundrel from breaching my privacy and isolation every time.

After a while, the quiet and serenity of the house was suddenly cut off by the sound of a violent, successive knocking on the outer door. My body jolted quickly, and I exited the room heading with accelerating paces to see who the knocker was, but Jake was faster than me. He extended his hand and opened the door with strength, and in the blink of an eye, I saw Stella cast her entire body into his embrace with sweeping momentum and passion, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck while shouting with eagerness, joy, and a tyrannical longing: "Jake! Is this truly you?! I have missed you so much and so intensely!"