XXIII

DELILAH

I reached his house. In Northern Arizona — as he told me in the car, his house was quite big and luxurious. It was a mansion as I beheld it from outside. Huge and beautifully designed. Shiny because of its white texture. The Taj Mahal of India also does not maintain the same shine as it today's day which was in his mansion.

I walk behind him, eyeing the huge place curiously. He is holding my hand and leading me upstairs. There is no one here around. The whole place is silent. And even if someone is here, I can't see them at the moment. For now, all I can hear is the sound of his heels hitting the spotless white marble floor.

He stops in front of a room and opens the door. He goes inside while I follow him.

"This is our room."

The word 'our' makes me stiff in my place. I can not help but feel a shiver running up my spine just at the thought of sharing a room with him. I do not want to stay with him in a room. This is obvious!

"Our?" I look at him. He nods, raising his brow