18 Everywhere

Not long after the lady left, several parents followed in her footsteps - leaving me alone in the playground. It was deserted but it was a nice kind of peace. After all those negativity, all those presumptions and the monster that dwells within me, I finally found myself loose from the knot entanglement. My mind felt refresh and I could finally breathe in a fresher air without the toxic that kept haunting me. One that kept on pushing the blame on Wystan.

The leaves of the trees on top of my head rustled, aided by the gentle evening breeze and the smell of various delicious food from the stalls metres away was enough to make my stomach grumbled with hunger and my mouth drooled. I was reminded of my living needs.

I contemplated going back to the restaurant to find Wystan but how thick-skinned do I have to be? Leaving him behind when I feel like it and come back when it suits me? What difference does it make of me compared to the gossip girls in the powder room of my wedding day, if not worse? Even if I disliked his powers, he had treated me better than how I did towards him in my head. And I called myself his wife?

Whether I liked it or not, I was the one at fault. Without further ado, I took my first steps towards the restaurant. But boy oh boy, was I in for a surprise? My husband, my dearest husband was already waiting for me at the bench closest to the exit.

"Why didn't you let me know you're here?" A grateful smile failed to escape from my lips as my heart slowly opened up to be more accepting of others.

"You looked like you want to be left alone. Ready to go home?"

"Sure. How are we getting back?"

"With my 4-wheels." His hand comfortably swung on my shoulder as I walked closer to him.

I must say, I was slightly taken aback by his natural movement but at the same time, I didn't want to remove his hand either. We walked together side by side as we did earlier on. This time I had taken off my judgemental jacket from myself and strolled around the city like a happy wife.

* * * * *

We were finally back at the treehouse and I made a beeline towards the shower room. I planned to have a quick rinse and made some dinner for myself. But here I stood by the dining table in my baby blue pyjamas with damp hair, stopped in my tracks.

Wystan had set the table for two people that evening.

"I thought you already had your dinner," I queried as I took my seat.

"It's not right for me to eat when I know you're hungry as well."

Oh Wystan, if only you knew how evil my thoughts were, you wouldn't even order dinner for me.

It was a quiet dinner until he broke the silence towards the end.

"Would you prefer to stay in the Palace?"

Oh! My! Word! My ears were burning and my cheeks were heating up.

"Were you listening to my thoughts?" I asked through my gritted teeth of shame.

"No. You were loud enough."

A huge pang draws its sword right into my heart.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't in the right of mind," my hands rubbed against each other, asking for his forgiveness particularly one that might consider a heavy offence.

His gaze wasn't hurtful. There wasn't a hint of suspicions glistening in his eyes. Rather, they looked rather understanding. And I hate it!

"Don't be. I have no idea what you were talking abt anyway."

He walked towards me and handed me a rectangular box. "Open it. It's yours."

It was a phone. The typical 21st-century phone we have but it's missing the camera feature.

"All the important numbers are already under favourites." He continued.

Wystan.

Father.

Handmaiden 1.

Handmaiden 2.

Bodyguard 1

Bodyguard 2.

"Thanks... Apart from yours, I already have everyone's number."

"Your phone does not work here. Only phones made in Hawthorn can make an outgoing call and receive incoming ones."

Aah... No wonder I couldn't get through with my girls.

"Call your father. He's been wondering how you have been."

* * * * *

( Hello Papa...?)

I rang up his number, only had the wit to check the difference in our timezone.

(...) There wasn't any response on his end but a rustling sound.

(Sorry for disturbing you. I'll call you back.)

(My little princess!! Is that you, Farah?)

(Yes, Papa. I'm sorry for calling you at the wrong time.)

(No, no. Don't be, my child. There's no such thing as wrong timing. Thank goodness though. I thought it was a dream. hehe...)

I felt guilty to hear him say it was a dream. He must've been waiting for my calls and I did not do it even sooner.

(Oh, Papa! I'm so sorry for being rude the other day and I'm sorry it took this long to reach you.)

A lump formed in my throat as my eyes welled up with water. Why was I being selfish back then when the feelings of regret were much more powerful than anger?

(Don't cry, my darling Farah. Papa understands and Papa is not even angry at you.)

(B-b-but I must have disappointed you...*hic*)

(Aww my darling princess, why are you crying? Aren't we on the phone now?)

(I miss you, Papa. When will I be returning home?)

(I miss you too. You be good there, alright? Wystan is also your family now. Listen to him. He can protect you.)

(Papa, when will I go back to Taaffeite?)

(Don't forget to remind Wystan about the First Dance!)

(Pa!! When can I return home again?)

There was a long pause before he answered. (Sooner than you think, my little Princess. Papa is tired now. I'll call you next time, alright? Love you, Farah.)

(And I you, Papa.)

But Papa lied. It'll be a long time before I could return to my homeland.