Page 75 of Nocturne

The man’s saving lives, for god's sake, I wouldn’t mind waiting for an hour. He waves once he is near the door, and I cannot help myself. I laugh slightly and wave him back. He is cute. He is genuine, warm and everything nice.

He is good for me. He could be right for the direction my life is going towards. The foolish fixation and attraction I have towards Zagan Devlin is a delusion that would shatter and hurtme deeply. I have already been hurt by a man like him, I should know better.

Shoving away unnecessary thoughts, I concentrate on my food and savouring its taste. It does taste amazing with Viognier, and I’m glad that I went with the sommelier’s choice. The man did not disappoint.

The door opens, and because my table faces it, I’m able to see the group which enters.

My eyes catch the man who is being greeted by the maître d’. It takes everything inside me to keep me on my chair and not run out of the restaurant. The fish that tasted decadent before turns sour in my mouth, and I no longer have the taste for the wine as I put down the glass.

The rage that simmers beneath my veins whenever I see him or his stupid face plastered in the papers is a lot. And I’m not the kind that is easily angered.

I can’t help myself.

My eyes follow my ex-boyfriend, Burke Berrett, as he walks with a small group of his friends and the same woman who he used to make a joke out of me. I don’t blame her. She didn’t know the game he was playing. I do blame her for being unnecessarily rude and insulting.

His group of friends remain the same since college: famous, rich and influential. Just like him and his family. That is the reason no one helped me in college. No one could.

I wasn’t a troublemaker in college; neither was I constantly bullied. I was just…invisible. I spent most of my time cramming in the library or the lab, working on my thesis so that I would getaccepted into accelerated courses. I spent all my time keeping myself busy and shoving the thoughts of self-harm away from my mind.

Apart from the students finding my name as a topper in all the courses, I wasn’t popular, not like Pearl Montague or her posse. The same woman who is now subtly glaring at the maître d’ as he says something to her about the seating arrangement.

Like all the girls, I harboured a harmless crush on the guy with blue eyes and blond hair who also happened to be the rugby captain. A sport I love. I didn’t act on it, though, as I realised that he was way out of my league.

Once, I saw Burke in the library. He needed help with his Economics paper, and I happened to finish that course the last semester. I saw him struggling, and despite the nerves gripping my limbs, I jotted down some helpful pointers on a piece of paper and left it on his table when he took a break.

I have no idea how he found out that it was me, but he did.

He started following me since then. To my lab, to the library and even to the gardens, where I went to find some peace. He remained unshakable, hell-bent on making me talk and converse, and like a fool, I fell for his charms.

In my defence, the bastard was quite charming, and he was behind me for months until I cracked. We did converse, but only when no one was around. I wasn’t courageous enough to approach him when he was surrounded by his group of popular friends. They were too intimidating, along with being loud-mouthed bullies.

Burke and I started as friends first, and somehow, he slithered into my heart.

He asked me out but never took me out for a proper date. He brought takeout to my lab, and that was our first date. And like a lovesick fool, I lapped at the attention he showed. Didn’t question why he insisted that we date secretly. Didn’t question why he would only kiss me when no one was around.

I even broke my rule of not stepping on the rugby field. For him, because he was nervous about that season’s match. Because I believed his rubbish when he claimed that my presence made him feel better.

What a load of bullcrap.

Even when he saw me sitting on the bleachers, he ignored me. Said nothing when one of his teammates made a joke about the nerd crushing on their captain.

I had to stomp on the hurt, pack my things and walk away. He later came to the lab, kissed me and said he liked that I showed up for his practice. He asked me to come to the match as well but never gave me his jersey to wear.

All the other girlfriends of his teammates did, and they got to sit in the front row, cheering their boyfriends. At the same time, I hung in the back with Ivy, who kept grumbling that he wasn’t right for me. But did I listen?

No.

What a delusional nincompoop I had been.

We continued dating in secret; I allowed him not to acknowledge me in public, and I allowed someone else to wear his jersey. It continued for a year and a half. And I was happy. Despite Ivy and Iyra’s disapproval, I was happy.

That should explain the pathetic state I was in. I was happy that other than my friend and sister, someone gave a damn. That someone found me pretty despite the jarring comments I heard otherwise from the students and also his friends sometimes.

One day, all that happiness shattered when I was confronted by Pearl and her small posse while I was on my way to my Cytology class. She called me slurs, body shamed me into tears and demanded that the scholarship dirt know their place.

I didn’t understand why she was being rude to me when she always ignored my existence. When I told her I didn’t understand what she was talking about, she slapped me across my face, her nail splitting my skin and drawing blood.

It was then I knew that Burke was her boyfriend, and someone told her that they had seen me kissing him the day before.

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