Something felt that evening.
Nagging Sensation was written on the back of my mind, although I couldn’t quite place why. Maybe it was a frightening silence in a normally busy street, or the way in which the cold seemed to penetrate my skin deeper than usual.
Or maybe, maybe, it was an unpleasant feeling in my intestine – the one who whispered that he would change everything tonight.
My breath was visible in the freezing air as I stood outside in a bitter cold. My patience was wearing thin and my fingers, filled deep in the pockets of coats, were dull.
The only thing I could do was the pace of the area around the café, where we agreed to meet, because my friend, Mark, was already thirty minutes late.
At that moment I saw a man who crossed the street in the direction of a woman. There was a wonderful arrangement of crimson roses wrapped in gold paper …
When I stood outside, my breath created small clouds in the icy air and prevents biting cold. The frustration was cooked under my skin, and although my hands were put in my coats, my fingers remained dull. I went impatiently outside the café, where Mark, my friend, promised to meet me. He was more than thirty minutes late.
When I was expecting, something caught my attention – a man crossing the street towards a woman. In his hands he carried a stunning bouquet of crimson roses wrapped in gold paper. The sight dispersed me for a moment from the cold. There was something strangely known about him, even though I couldn’t quite a place where I saw him before.
What happened next time was unexpected. When the man arrived at the woman, she looked up with an unreadable expression. When he reached her bouquet, she shook her head, nor smiled nor discovered him. A few words were exchanged, short, but heavy. Then she turned and left with her determination and left, let him stand there – immersed and still clutch the flowers.
The moment felt too intimate to witness, as if I were to interfere with something personal. Above me there was an unpleasant feeling of restlessness. I decided it was time to leave. It was obvious that Mark did not come, and I did not want to freeze to death and wait for him.
I just started to go when he called my voice.
“Wait, don’t go!”
Hope spread in my chest for a second. Has Mark finally arrived with an apology? But when I turned, he wasn’t him – he was a man with a bouquet, now he went to me.
I grabbed out of sight, I hesitated. “Uh … Hi?”
He looked at me urgently, but his voice was strangely gentle. “I have to tell you something.”
Confused, I blinked. “Me? Are you sure you have the right person?”
His gaze remained stable. Close, his face was not only vaguely known – it was completely recognizable.
“Are you emmo, right?” he asked.
A cold was running down my spine, which had nothing to do with the cold. “How do you know my name?”
Before he replied, he took a sharp breath. “I saw your picture on Mark’s phone.”
The world seemed to move around me. “What?”
“My name is Liam,” he said, his expression full of emotions, even though his voice remained solid. “I … Mark’s brother.”
I stared at him, stunned. “His brother? But Mark told me he’s the only child.”
Liam is bitterly laughing. “Of course he did. Emmo, Mark lied to you about many things. That’s why I’m here.” Before he met my eyes again, his eyes blinked to the bouquet in his hand. “I was supposed to meet my girlfriend tonight … to end things. Because of Mark.”
My pulse accelerated. “What does he have to do with me?” I asked my voice unstable.
Liam’s jaw was tense. “Because she saw him. My girlfriend. Behind my back – and yours.”
The Earth seemed to move under me. My mind raced and tried to process his words. Mark was late – again. Was he with her right now?
“I didn’t want to believe it,” Liam admitted. “But then I saw the lyrics, the pictures. I confronted him, but he just wiped me. He said you” invested “it too much to leave. That you don’t care.”
His words decreased deeper than the cold wind around me. I trusted Mark, loved him, and he was deceiving me all the time.
Liam’s voice softened. “I didn’t want you to find out that way. But I couldn’t let him manipulate you.”
We stood quietly for a moment. People argued around us, lost themselves in their own lives, they didn’t know about the storm that had just broke out in mine.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to talk. “Thank you.” The words felt hollow, too small to the weight of what I just learned. My legs trembled and my chest hurt.
Liam nodded. “Emmo, you deserve better. Much better.”
My view dropped to the bouquet in his hands, Crimson Roses now carries another meaning – one betrayal, loss and perhaps unexpected kindness.
“They were for her,” I murmured.
“They were,” he admitted. “But I think you could use little beauty today.”
When I was hesitant to accept flowers, tears were accepted in my eyes and in return they offered him a small, shaking smile.
That night I went home alone, my heart broke, but my determination unshamedled. Mark lied, but I refused to let him break me.
As for Liam- he gave me the truth and with her a bouquet that carried the first step to healing.
ConclusionÂ
When I went home, the weight of the betrayal heavily pressed on the chest, but under pain something else aroused – in effect. Mark’s lies disintegrated in front of me and left no room for doubts. It hurt, but it also liberated me.
I looked down at my bouquet in my hands, Crimson Roses now a symbol of heart break and durability. Liam unknowingly gave me more than just flowers – gave me the truth, the pressure I needed to leave someone who never really weighed me.
I promised that night. I wouldn’t allow it to break me. I would recover, move forward and found love that was honest and real. Because Liam was right – I deserved better. And for the first time in a long time I believed it.