An unburden

“What?” My supervisor asked, looking up at me.

“I would like to take a tea tray up,” I said, trying to sound confident. 

I could feel some of the girls snickering in the corner as they watched this, but I kept my eyes only on my supervisor.

“But he did not ask for you.” My supervisor said in confusion and someone actually laughed at that, but when my supervisor turned furious eyes at her, she blushed and began to cough instead.

So my suspicions were true. 

They knew. 

Everyone knew and had probably been laughing about it all day. My shame tripled. But I could not turn and leave now. I had gone too far already. 

I was here, so I had to see it through.

“I know,” I said, looking at the woman evenly.

“You know? But still want to go?” She asked, looking at me in even more confusion.

I nodded even though I began to feel my face going red from embarrassment and maybe some unshed tears, “I do.” I somehow managed to say in a clear voice.

Everyone in the large kitchen was watching us like it was some free entertainment. But I kept my eyes on my supervisor and I saw an emotion in her eyes that she had never directed before at me, or even anyone for that matter.

She had the look that reminded me of the one my mother usually had before she said, “Oh dear,” and gave me a hug. 

I suddenly missed my mother terribly, and had an irresistible urge to cry.

Maybe I should have never come to the country and just stayed with her as she asked. 

Maybe we would have managed somehow. I should have never come to this place with their extremely judgmental glares, and men who were kind one day and did not want to see you the next.

My supervisor finally turned to a sous chef and nodded. Then she walked away. 

I sighed in relief.

Soon, I had in my hand a tea set with a full teapot of tea, freshly brewed just the way Blaine liked it. 

As I walked up the two flights of large carpeted stairs, I wondered how he would react to me showing up.

Would he yell, curse, or throw the tray at a wall?

I stopped outside the door, inhaled as I moved the tray to one hand, and then knocked. 

I heard nothing. 

Was he out then?

I knocked again. Nothing still.

This was the last chance fate gave me to escape unscathed, but I foolishly ignored it. I thought if he was not in, I could just go in and drop the tray anyway.

I could not handle the humiliation of returning to the kitchen with the tray untouched. That would be too much. 

I turned the door knob, and the door opened.

I frowned. I had thought I would have to use my key or something. 

I walked in, but there was no sign of Blaine. 

I decided to just find my way to the dining area without turning on the light. The moon was high up in the sky and shining brightly anyway.

As I began to place the tray on the dining table, I changed my mind. What was the purpose of leaving the tea he would not drink? 

If he came in later, his eyes would totally miss it. I decided to take it to his bedroom instead. 

When I walked into the bedroom, I froze.

Blaine was sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back turned to me. 

The tray shook a little in my hand as I watched him. So had he been here this whole time?

I suddenly felt more hurt than I had in the past few hours. He really did not want to see me, that is why he did not answer my knock. 

I thought about just turning around and leaving, but I was already here.

Blaine would later claim that my bringing the tea tray up to his suite when he did not ask for it was clear proof that I was out to get him. That had been one of my manipulative and seduction tactics.

I walked to a tiny coffee table beside the chaise in the room. I thought I heard sniffing as I bent over. I frowned, my hands hanging just above the table.

I must have heard wrong. I placed the tray on the table and began to walk away.

“Thank you, Ariel.” His voice came out sounding raspy and broken. And I heard the sniff again. I froze and turned around. Was the man crying?

Without second thoughts, I crossed the floor and walked up to him. 

He was sitting on the floor, and I could see all the folds of his dark curly hair and the hints of gray around his temple.

“Are you OK?”

When he looked up at me, I gasped and stepped back. His eyes were blood-red. 

I stared at him, there was no hint of anger in those eyes. Just sadness and exhaustion. 

There was no trace of the bubbling happy man I spent the afternoon and evening with yesterday.

“You really care.” He half smiled, sadly, and looked away. “Is that not funny? The person I met two days ago is the only one in the world who cares.”

I did not really understand what he was talking about, but I felt deep sympathy at his sadness. 

I did not want to continue standing over him like this, so I lowered myself to the hardwood floor beside him.

He turned to look at me and then looked away again. 

We sat silently that way, looking through the glass at the sky with its many beautiful stars. 

We could see them because we were far from the city, and I appreciated their beauty even more since I never got to see them often.

But the moon was still the main star of the show, literally. 

It was bright and full and dazzling. When I stared long at it, I saw different images. 

A man’s face, a baby’s face, and then I could have sworn it was an old woman’s face. I blinked once and realized it could well have been a horse’s face.

The moon was anything our mind wanted it to be. 

I turned to see Blaine watching me, and I looked away.

“Do you have any siblings, Ariel?” he asked. 

It was the strangest thing, but I loved how he called my name. It sounded different on his lips. Beautiful.

I shook my head in response to his question. And when he said nothing, I gently asked, “Do you?”

“A brother,” he said, “A brother who is so wrong I have no other option but to be right.”

He stopped, and I watched him.

“He has only had to suffer once for my bad behavior and I find it very comforting.”

I was not sure how to respond to that, so I remained quiet.

“Does that make me a bad person, Ariel? Watching my brother suffer till now because of a decision I refused to make years ago.”

I grimaced. “I don’t know the context.” I said carefully, “But I have never had any reason in the last few days to doubt your goodness.”

His eyes widened at that, surprised. 

Then he smiled sadly and looked away. “That is such a smart answer,” he said, and I found myself blushing.

“I have only ever been able to be myself around you,” he continued, and I turned to stare into his beautiful gray eyes. “I did not have to pretend to be a genius yesterday while we worked on that design. I could just be me.”

I felt a sudden urge to hug him, even though I knew I would never do that. 

I was not so bold, but I wished he would initiate a hug, then I would hold him till all the sadness left his eyes.

“My father died when I was this big.” He raised his hand to about his head level where we sat on the floor. “I watched my mother cry for a year, confused. So I learned quickly to offer to solve her problems. If I did not know how to do something, I learned it because I never wanted to see her cry.”

I watched him, my heart breaking into pieces at the image of a scared boy who pretended to have all the answers. 

“I’VE GOT IT, " were my favorite words. I said it sometimes without even fully understanding the problem, but I found a solution anyway, no matter the cost to me.”

He looked down at the floor and shook his head once, “My brother did not help. He wanted to continue living in the world he built up in his head. So I had to be the perfect son. My mother’s joy.”

It seemed to me like he had been waiting to unburden to someone for so long, so all the words were coming out in a rush.

I could not help it anymore. Although I did not have the courage to hug him, I could touch him, to show I felt every painful emotion, and was not bored with his story.

I placed my hand on his knee that was jutting out near me. It was hard, warm, and a vein was pulsing beneath the skin.