31 Bonus

I don't know why I am so nervous suddenly. I'm not asking her to marry me or anything. It's just a romantic date, right? I really hope she likes it. I debated myself over the details wanting this to be something she remembers. I see that she has been trying to think before reacting and I wanted to show her I appreciate that.

When we arrived at the area she looks at me confused. "A park?" 

I chuckle, "Yes a park. Come on." I get out and open the door for her and grab the bag that was in the back seat. 

"What's the bag for?" She inquires and I smile at her. "You'll see soon enough." I open my phone and send the message that we are on our way so they can bring our food to us. We make our way into the darker part of the park, over the hill and down a bit shielding us from the light of the city. I find a spot that out under the stars and flat enough before I stop her. 

"Here is good." I open the bag and take out a large blanket and lay it down on the grass. "Go ahead and sit down." 

She shivers but goes ahead and takes a seat, giving me an unsure gaze. I pull out the other blanket I have stuffed into the bag and place it over her legs. 

"Thank you." She says quietly as I join her on the blanket.

I pull her into my arms, letting the heat of my body help her warm up more. 

"So why are we here? I thought we were going to eat something?" Melita turns her head to look at me over her shoulder and I wrap my arms around her tighter.

"Do you trust me?" I ask her.

"Yes..." She doesn't sound like it right now.

"You're going to have convince me better than that reply." I chuckle as I hear footsteps coming up behind us. I turn and see it's my driver with our food. 

"Here you are Mr. Morgan, Ms. Xenos." He sets the insulated bag down with our hot food and the thermos with hot drinks. "Enjoy the view." He smiles and heads back up the hill.

Melita giggles, "Picnic in the park at night? This is a first." 

Feeling a bit unsure of myself, I mutter, "Yeah I guess it was kind of stupid."

Lita is quick to get on her knees and turn to me, "No! No! This was thoughtful. You made sure we had blankets and hot food. I just.. never have experienced this before. I like it."

Feeling better about this now, I pull her closer to me and give her a quick kiss. "Let's eat while everything is still hot then." 

I had ordered us these great chicken burritos with hot tea and hot chocolate to drink and there is a box of chocolate truffles in my bag still. We ate and drank our tea, feeling warmer afterwards as we sat back and watched the stars that we could see, still so close to the city. I kept her in between my legs and made sure she stayed warm as I fed her chocolates and talked about nothing and everything at the same time. I loved listening to her voice and her laughter. I had felt starved of those sounds after so many years and now wanted to gorge myself on them. She obliged me, even if she was unaware of it.

I've always loved her. When we were younger, I thought of her as my little sister, but when I hit twelve, I started noticing how cute her freckles across her nose were. Then when I was fourteen, I realized I never wanted our time to end at the clubhouse. I looked forward to cold days when we'd curl up in the old blankets we had and read to each other. Then right when I realized I loved her like a boy loves a girl, when I wanted to protect her from her father, I was ripped from her life. 

I truly did try everything my fifteen year old brain could think of to get back to her. CPS refused to take my word on it and the temporary foster family caught me sneaking out through the bathroom window to try and get away back to her. I didn't know they had alarms on all the windows. Honestly, what kind of foster parents put alarms on all of their windows? 

When my uncle showed up to take me away, I told him about Melita and I could tell he didn't care. He didn't even want me to begin with. I was unwanted distraction from his only love in life, his job and the money he made from it. I wanted to call Melita, talk to her, but all of my requests were denied. I was to be made into a young man that my uncle would not be embarrassed or ashamed to present to the people in his circle of society. IF I did well I could write a letter to Melita. That was the deal. So I did what they wanted. I had private tutors who taught me how to speak, act, think, and brought my grades up to snuff before I was made to attend a private school. Even though people knew once I introduced myself, who I was, I had no idea who they were. That is where I found out how these high society people really are. They smile in your face as they watch someone else stab you in the back. I soon realized that I could have so-called friendly acquaintances that I could hang out with and have a decent time with, that I could use for different situations, but I had no friends. No one I could talk to, no one to count on, no one but myself.

My heart longed for Melita and our clubhouse, remembering how happy we were in our little hodgepodge of old, used material held together with rusty nails and branches. How I could tell her everything that bothered me and she could cry into my shoulder after I cleaned her wounds. We may have been cold somedays, hungry more so, but we had each other and that's all that mattered.

I wrote a letter every day at first, then every week, then every month, for years. Never hearing a reply from her made me assume the worst. However, my uncle informed me she was alive and merely shrugged when I told him that she's never replied, not once. My uncle's response was, "Maybe she's not interested in being your friend anymore? Ever think that? That she's met another boy and is in love with them? Stop wasting your time on someone who won't even respond to all your letters. It's clear that she doesn't want to talk to you."

I couldn't believe him, not at first. After another year or two when I was in college, his words finally started doing their damage and it broke me. It broke me that my only friend in this life had never once responded to me and I stopped caring. I refused to get out of bed, I refused to eat, work out, get dressed, even shower. I just laid there lethargic and drowning in misery. I had no joy, nothing to keep me going or motivated to want to try and find something to keep me happy. My uncle had a therapist come to the house and talk to me. They tried to get me to take pills which that therapist quit after I rammed the bottle into his face and force fed him the pills. 

My uncles butler suggested a different therapist that would try treating me without medication. Every therapist they had sent me so far had tried and found out the hard way, that I became violent the second they mentioned them. My uncle who was frustrated beyond belief finally conceded and they brought one in. It took a month before I finally opened up and told them anything of real value. I told the therapist why I refused the medication, knowing how addicted to pills my parents had become that they did nothing for them and switched to harder drugs and sold the pills they got for free to others. I couldn't trust myself to not become like them and was not willing to test myself. 

For once, this therapist, Doctor Tina Loudary, listened and assured me that we would only do what I was comfortable with. She also assured me that unless I was going to hurt myself or someone else, that everything we spoke about stayed between us. I know that she had that intention but my uncle had cameras and audio set up in my room since I had moved in. I knew about them but eventually I opened up some. I only opened up on our 'walking sessions' she had suggested when I finally slipped her a note telling her about the cameras and audio. We would walk around the grounds of my uncles estate, far from the audio and cameras, where we could see if anyone was coming up on us before I unloaded everything I had kept pent up inside all those years. That woman was a godsend, who let me cry, let me rage, let me get it all out and then helped patch me back together showing me that I had a different kind of strength if I chose to view it that way.

I finished college, in the top ten and my uncle had me working with him at his company but made sure I worked in every level till I was right next to him. I knew he was grooming me to be his successor, that much was obvious. When he introduced me to the girl he wanted me to marry, I knew it was merely a business transaction for him. She knew it too and we tried to get along but there was no chemistry. She had to get me drunk to sleep with her and still there was nothing between us. After her few attempts to create something she gave up and told me she was sleeping with someone else. I didn't care. I broke it off with her since there was nothing between us and the next day she was publicly caught sleeping with the guy she actually had feelings for. So it worked out better for me in the end. The other women I dated were beautiful but none of them cared for me, just my status and wealth. I soon realized what my problem was with women, none of them were Melita. 

When my uncle died and everything was handed over to me, I found my letters in the safe in his office. Every single one, opened and read. That's how he had used my own thoughts and feelings to manipulate me over the years and I was livid. I fired every single one of his staff that had a hand in my uncles manipulation and threw them out of the estate. I cried reading every single letter I had written, now knowing why I never received a response. I hired new staff and explained what I expected from them and then moved on. My new butler who had witnessed me one too many nights trying to drink to numb the pain enough to sleep, asked me if I wanted him to search for her. I confessed that if she had found someone and gotten married, it would crush the last bit of me that was somewhat together. So he informed me, that he would look on my behalf, only if I pulled myself together and worked to keep what I had been given. So I did. 

It was Edward who advised me to come to Dallas and build a headquarters here and to accept DD corporations proposal. That it would be in my best interest to do so. 

I'm giving that man a raise and bonuses for the rest of his life for this.