An apology

I stared at Blaine. 

Had the poisonous air made me hallucinate that day? Had it messed up reality for me, made me think Blaine was still a friend or that knight from the party.

Because this could not have been caused by me panicking. 

No amount of panic would have made me call Blaine for help. I had too much pride for that.

I stopped. 

Except for Oliver’s sake. I could never be too proud with anything that concerns him. And everything related to my health and safety was connected with my son and his well-being. 

Was that why my almost unconscious mind thought it a good idea to call Blaine?

I turned my eyes back to him and saw he was watching me intently. The same way he had all those months ago.

I suddenly noticed something I had not before. 

He had many bruises on his face and neck. My stupid hands itched to touch them, but I squeezed them tightly around the sheet.

“Why did you come save me?” I asked, choosing not to ask about his injuries. That should not be my concern. He had his perfect wife to care for him.

“You did not want me to come?” His eyes widened in surprise for the first time. I continued staring at him and said nothing.

He looked away, and I knew the answer to my question. Blaine did not care about me in any way. Not even as a fellow human who needed his help. 

I was simply the access key to finding his son who he was convinced was alive.

“Please leave,” I said quietly. 

I expected him to get angry and perhaps say some harsh words, but he nodded. And then I felt him take my hand as he stood up.

“Get well, Ariel.” He kissed my hand gently, turned and left. 

I lay there, stunned, barely believing what had just happened. 

What was that? 

Why did Blaine come here, why was he acting so calm towards me?

Did my calling him send him the wrong message that I had him in my heart and probably still nursed some hope for him?

I frowned in irritation. That was when my eyes fell on a shelf by the wall at the opposite end of the room. 

A large bouquet of pink and blue hydrangeas stared back at me. 

I knew immediately that Blaine had dropped it, even though I had been asleep the whole time. 

That night, in between our sessions of tasting happiness, we talked and talked about different things.

One of those topics was the difference between the country and the other parts of the world, and then we talked about hydrangeas, and how they symbolized heartfelt apology, but symbolized arrogance and vanity in Europe and some other parts of the world.

We joked about the reactions if a Japanese offender sent those flowers to an aggrieved European. And reflected on how misunderstanding could make lives difficult for people.

I frowned, what message was Blaine trying to pass then? That our war was born of misunderstanding? Or that he was sorry.

I looked away. 

I preferred to bet heavily that he left this as an insult to further knock it into my head that his saving me did not mean anything. 

He was trying to arrogantly remind me that he did not care about me.

But why did he kiss my hand then?

Wait. Most importantly, why the hell am I lying here, analyzing how Blaine felt about me? 

The door opened suddenly and Kan walked in, but he was not alone. 

He opened the door wide as men came in with bouquets and bouquets of purple hyacinths; another symbol of regret and apology, and pink roses.

I raised my bed to look at them properly as the men carefully lay them all around the room. 

The room was immediately transformed, and then the hydrangeas stuck out like a sore thumb. 

Kan spotted it immediately. He squinted at them, and then turned questioning eyes back at me. I shrugged.

“Blaine,” I said simply, and Kan’s eyes widened as he turned them back to the bouquet carefully displayed on the shelf.

I frowned, watching him. 

He had similar scars to Blaine's, almost in the same area. I tried to think about what must have happened. 

Kan must have been livid to learn that Blaine had come near me.

Did they have a confrontation and fight then? Since I showed up, the men have been restless to tear each other apart.

“Take it out.” Kan said through gritted teeth to his assistant, Ren, who had appeared by the door. 

Ren bowed quickly, and walked in to grab the bouquet. 

Kan glanced at me, and I was almost certain he was expecting me to say something. But I just stared at the whole activity without emotion.

He finally sighed, and walked towards me with one of the bouquets of pink roses in his hand, as the delivery men exited my ward.

“Ariel,” He said gently, looking at me. 

I stared into his honey-brown eyes, not really caring, but waiting anyway for what he had to say. 

What possible explanation he had for what he did.

He took my hand, and gently rubbed my palm open, and I saw he did not know what to say. 

This shattered my heart even more. He really was guilty and even he knew it.

Did I have a right to be mad or not? I was his wife and he was apologizing for what he did. 

But at the same time, this was a fake marriage, and we had never even slept together and only kissed for public shows.

This was so confusing. My chest was hurting, but I was confused about whether to embrace my feelings or to douse them out because I had no right to feel all I was feeling.

“How is Oliver?" I said, pulling my hand away from his. 

Kan looked up at me, his eyes hurt and longing, and I wanted to scream at him.

Till when would he continue to act this way, giving me mixed signals and leaving me tethering on the edge? 

First, he stressed that nothing could happen between us, in such a mean way. When I stopped hoping, he started pinning.

And the day I decided maybe this might be worth giving a second shot, he went to go fuck another woman, reasserting my position that I was in fact the other woman. 

He did not belong to me. He was not mine.

“How is my son?” I repeated even though I knew how much he hated it when I said that. 

I could not help the sudden bitterness I was feeling from the humiliation of what he had done.