Page 133 of Heart of Stone

“I have found that among its other benefits, giving liberates the soul of the giver.”

- Maya Angelou

Looking forward to the weekend…

Alex

I smiled after reading the quote, appreciating Alexander’s attention to detail by citing my favorite poet.

I was about to put the card back into the envelope, when I noticed a blue velvet satchel tied around the neck of the vase.

What’s this?

However, I predicted the answer to the question almost as soon as I thought it. Knowing that Alexander wouldn’t take back his gift of the necklace, I had decided to forgo any sort of argument by simply leaving it on his dresser the morning that he left for Boston. Apparently, this was his way of turning the tables on me.

Loosening the drawstring tie from the cloth bag, I dumped the contents into my palm. Just as I expected, out poured the platinum triskelion and chain. It was then that I understood the reason for the Maya Angelou quote – Alexander wasn’t only referring to the flowers, but to all of his gifts.

In the face of his sweet gestures, I couldn’t help but to feel a little sad about it. It would be so much easier if I could simply accept everything that Alexander had to offer, but I didn’t feel right about it. I sensed that he wanted more from me, but there were some things that I could not give – at least not without compromising my standards.

I’m at a crossroads.

One path would have me push Alexander away in order to create more distance between us. He may not like it, and it could potentially lead to our demise. It would be a risky choice, because I knew that I wasn’t ready for things to end.

But if I chose the other, I would become deeper involved. I’d expect more from Alexander, and would want him to be more open about the secrets that I knew he was carrying. From the history of his parents to his underground life, everything was a mystery to me. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to continue without answers. However, that path had its risks too, as it may force me to reveal my own truth.

The prospect of facing that pain frightened me, for giving up my secret would hurt me in ways that physical submission never could. The choice should have been an obvious one, knowing that I did not have the strength to handle the latter. However, I couldn’t decide what to do – for emotional surrender was my only true hard limit.

CHAPTER 37

The conference was going relatively well, even if it was boring as all hell, and I arrived back to my hotel room shortly after dinnertime. I considered going out to the Faneuil Hall area with Burke in search of a bite to eat, but decided on the solitude of room service instead. I didn’t feel like keeping company with my old friend, but rather wished that I had pushed Krystina harder about coming to Boston.

A short rap on the hotel room door signaled the arrival of dinner. I opened the door to find a pretty brunette balancing two platters. I was absently wondering how she managed to knock with her hands full, when I noticed that the trays were balancing precariously in her small hands.

I was dangerously close to wearing stuffed flounder and hollandaise sauce.

“Here, let me take one of those,” I offered, removing a tray from her wavering grasp.

“Thank you, sir,” she appreciated.

We both entered the room and set the trays on the small dinette set that was situated in the suite’s living room.

“Do yourself a favor and use a cart of some sort next time,” I told her, fishing out my wallet to get her a tip.

“Oh, yes,” she readily agreed. “I’ll make sure to use one the next time I come up. Will you be staying here long? Um, Mr.…”

She sounded giddy, almost school girlish. My head snapped up to look at her. I was all too familiar with the tone that she took. She was watching me with a pair of innocent doe eyes, but this girl was anything but naïve and was obviously looking to score more than a tip.

I pursed my lips in annoyance, choosing not to answer her. I handed her a twenty.

Be on your way, doll. That’s all you’re going to get.

“Thank you,” I told her, albeit dismissively.

She looked momentarily disappointed, but took the dismissal in stride and left me alone to enjoy my dinner in peace. The transparency of some women floored me at times, and I suddenly had a newfound appreciation for Krystina’s ambiguous personality.

I wasn’t impressed by the hotel fare. The flounder was over cooked and the sauce was flavorless. I began to regret my choice to not accompany Burke to one of the cities more notable seafood restaurants. As a swallowed the last bite of the rubbery fish, my phone pinged with the notification of a new email. I pushed the plate away and pulled out my cell.

It was a confirmation notice that the flower delivery was received. The time stamp on the message told me that it was just after seven, which meant that Krystina should be home from Wally’s.

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