Chapter 1: The Taste Of Grief
Many people in this world knew the meaning of the word grief; you only realize the true importance of someone when they’d left you to rot by yourself. However Christian Collins simply referred to that occurrence as ‘karma’.
When his first mature relationship had ended, only then did he realized what he’d lost. Everything he knew about life came crashing down the drain. Now after spending four years in the abyss, Chris was determined to make things right.
“Jas, I’ve changed,” he said, taking her hand on the table. “I have a car, my own place, a good and stable job — I can take care of you now.”
The blonde beauty shifted her gaze outside the window — to the beautiful ocean view under the sunless sky — then returned her deep blue eyes back to him. “What about your career, Chris? Tell me about it.”
“I… I’m working in this restaurant…” he stuttered, thinking about his line of work. In the beginning, he wanted to lie about it, to appear good in front of the woman he loved, but what would happen after that? Lying would just dug him deeper toward his grave.
“Doing what?” her voice was sharp, like the razor sharp edge of the knife he used to cut his steak. When the clock ticked and Chris was unable to reply, she continued, “Actually, don’t even bother. I can already guess.”
Chris appeared unaffected, but she could’ve not known how it felt. “Jas, I want to let you know that I have the power to change. In two years I’ll be…”
She cut him off before he could even finish. “Chris, do you even know why I left you in the first place? Even after four years, you’re still saying the same words. You haven’t changed one bit. You’re still the same indecisive guy I met in college seven years ago,” she said, disappointment was evident in her tone.
Chris swallowed, finding his throat instantly dry. He felt like he was slapped in the face again. Reality slapped him hard. Yes, being a simple fry cook for now, his future looked bleak already. But it wasn’t like he remained stagnant in those four years. Chris, all this time, was saving money to restart his education, hoping that one day he too could finish what he’d started. But now that she reappeared after their breakup four years ago, he knew his time had run out.
“Is there really no chance for us to be together?” asked Chris.
Before Jasmine could even utter a reply, the waiter cleared his throat beside him and asked, “Apologies, Sir, Ma’am, but would you like another refill of your wine?”
Chris looked at Jasmine, and the blonde lightly shook her head. “We’re fine, thank you,” he said to the waiter, giving him a small smile. When the waiter was out of earshot, he murmured, “I miss this.”
Chris ran his thumb a slow circle over her knuckles, squeezing a reply.
“Me too,” she murmured back.
“You’d be surprised to hear this, but we fry-cooks tend to be romantic.”
“And quite the show-off as well,” she added, her dimples winked at the edge of her mouth.
Chris laughed. That was the best word to describe him at the moment. He borrowed his friend’s fancy car and have it waxed before this dinner date, bought a suit for 200 dollars, booked a corner table with an ocean view at an expensive hotel — he spent a fortune he could’ve used for his education. But seeing her magnificent curves wrapped tightly in her short evening dress, her golden hair in curls - his painstaking effort to prepare was well worth it.
“Though we smell like fries and bacon grease, we always want to look our best in front of the woman we love,” said Chris.
She sighed. “That’s great and all, but I’m sad to say that fry-cooking isn’t enough to support a family.”
“You know, it’s a rather good occupation if you’re writing a book. Gives you all the time you needed thinking about plot points and such while flipping burgers. So to say, I’d rather not have you discriminate us like that.”
“Then don’t add it in the conversation to begin with,” she retorted.
Yes, compared to someone who has a degree, his job could be spit on. Nonetheless it was a job that supported his lifestyle all this time; a fact that Chris didn’t view as embarrassing.
“Sorry,” Chris said, holding her other hand on the table as well. He brushed his thumbs upward. “I thought your favorite author could help me win you back, but I guess not.”
Jasmine blinked. “So you started reading?”
“Well…” Chris breathed in. “I went under heavy depression after you left. Funny though, you were clumsy enough to leave your books there, so I picked them up one by one, wondering to myself what’s so interesting about them. Maybe it’s because of your similarity to the main heroine that drew me into those books; not in terms of clumsiness or anything like that though, but the way you changed the course of my life. I’m not sure if you left those books in purpose, but it’s thanks to those books that I was able to change. The devastating part is, the main heroine of my life is going away while I could do nothing but to let her listen to me rambling about her favorite novel.”
Her eyes flared. “Would you rather prefer it that I died instead?”
“Just like in the ending? — Bullshit.” Chris dispelled the temper in her eyes with an idiotic smile. “You were the best thing that happened in my life, Jas.” His voice started to shake. “You showed that to me when you left. And now that same realization will hit me like wrecking ball once again. But you’ve made your decision, and I will respect that.”
He saw her eyes twinkled with something, and Chris wished it was regret. Under the soothing tune of the background music — a historical masterpiece Chris requested beforehand — they continued to talk about mundane things, retort one another, and reminisced the four year gap they weren’t together.
Chris knew that staying with her anymore than this would just add to the pain of separating later, but he decided to enjoy their last time together at its fullest. Either way his distraught heart was bound to break again.
Although unwilling, Chris visualized a future together with her. To conceived his child, to be the mother of his children — she was the only woman he desired to be with all this time. Maybe he turned into an old fashioned prick, but Chris, nevertheless, enjoyed the fantasy while it lasted. They weren’t kids anymore; a few more months and Chris would’ve turned twenty-five. He was at that age to take life seriously, or at least that was what he learned. Now cruel it might be, but his chance to seize the woman of his dreams was long over.
After their not-so-romantic dinner date, Chris drove her around the bay area and stopped at the place where it was quiet and secluded, away from all of the banging noise of the city. Chris opened the door for her, ushered her out of his newly-waxed car, and put his coat on her shoulder. She slid her slender arms in the sleeves, and with one hand behind her neck, she pulled her hair free.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Her eyes dazzled as she looked at the dark waters so close before saying, “You don’t play fair, Mister Collins. You’re distracting me with old feelings.”
“A man can dream, Miss Reed. A man can dream,” said Chris, staring at the sea himself. Chris, after all, took her to a place that held great importance between them two. Where they smiled together, young and carefree, and did many stupid things.
He grabbed the bag of chips and soda in his car then sat beside her to watch the waves hitting the coastline underneath.
“So what else have you been doing while I was away?” she asked, taking the bag of chips from his hands.
“I told you; I was writing this book.” Chris popped their drinks open, took a sip, then dipped his hand inside the bag of chips. He told her bits and pieces of his book, which seemed to have gotten her interest.
“When will I be able to read it?” She ate some more chips then swatted his hand away when he reached too deep.
That question made Chris smile. To see his very inspiration to start writing show interest in his book satisfied him as an author. “Well, if you continue your love for mystery, perhaps you’ll see it in bookstores one day. Unless, of course, you want to go visit my apartment this instant I could make an exception for you?”
She grinned. “Now you’re distracting me with sex.”
Chris grinned back. “Now you’re accusing me of something I never did.” He reached his hand inside the bag, took out a handful, and began to munch.
Chris gazed at the sea longingly. For whatever reason, he felt like it was the right time and the right mood. His vision clouded as he asked, “So, when did you met your fiance?”
Jasmine gave him a single glance then shifted her gaze down to her fingers. “Just last year, in one of my friend’s party,” she muttered in a forced voice.
Chris stiffened in shock for a moment. “And he’s already proposed, huh?” His breath hitched. “Does he know… that you’re out here with me?”
“Yes,” was all she said.
After a long silence, tears began to fall for real but Chris didn’t sob. Not now, he thought. Adding more guilt on her shoulders was the last damn thing he wanted to do. He looked heavenward and searched the dark sky for answers.
A time of silence heavier than before ensued. Chris took a deep breath, cleared his nose, then said, “I can see why he did what he did… A girl like you — strong, smart, with a clear goal — is in rare supply these days.”
“Chris…” Her gaze towards him was filled with compassion and sympathy, but it was the worst gaze she could’ve given him at the moment. The pain in his chest struck him so hard he could hardly breath.
“I think it’s best if I drive you back. It’s getting late after all.” Chris stood up and offered his hand to her.
As they drove away from the beach, she kept her hand away from his reach. She placed it on her thighs and fiddled with her thumb, distracting Chris from driving properly. All too soon it ended, and as the song ‘Maybe’ played, they reached her aunt’s house in Sunset street.
Remembering the sour look they gave him this afternoon, Chris pulled out outside of their driveway. She got out of the car as he did which made him rush over to her side immediately.
As her arms struggled out of his coat, Chris reached for his pocket and fished out a small box.
He traded the small box for his coat. “Congratulations, Jas,” he said.
She took a glimpsed of its contents then shook her head and offered him back his gift. “Sorry, Chris, but I don’t want anything that will remind me of you.”
He closed his eyes for a moment and bit back a sigh. “I see.”
Many things had changed indeed. She wasn’t just older now. She was a lot stronger and smarter than before. Chris knew that she had enough of him for a single day, but for the last time, he allowed himself to be fooled.
Shoving the hand that offered his gift back, he wrapped her arms around her instead. Her body was familiar to him, thinking that the years hadn’t really changed it. Jasmine Reeds, even after four years, was still on the smaller side.
He smiled at the thought and emotions that he kept hidden inside spilled out of his throat. “Jas, good luck to your new life… and I’m… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being jerk… for being an asshole… for disregarding your advices… and, for wasting your precious time waiting. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man you adore.”
“Chris, don’t say anymore, please,” she pleaded, but made no attempt to remove his arms on her waist.
“I understand. But allow me this much at least.” He hugged her even tighter and breathed into the fragrant curve of her neck. God, where did they go wrong?
He heard her gasp and her hands on his back tightly clutched on his shirt. That made Chris wish for a different outcome, for a happier ending, but it was also his sign to draw away. She came back here to move on, to erase that spinning hurdle of her past filled of Christian Collins, and Chris, realizing this, didn't want to hurt the love of his life any further.
Chris eased back and smiled at her. Her eyes were glittering with tears as he palmed her cheek. He kissed her brow, her nose, then murmured, “I guess I have to go now. Thanks for meeting up with me for the last time.” He inhales deeply. “I love you, Jas. There hasn’t a day gone by in these last four years that I haven’t thought of you.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry, Chris.” Her voice began to break. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Everything was my fault.” They were many more that Chris wanted to say, but he couldn’t seem to utter another word, as if a pebble was stuck on his throat. She wanted a bright future; one that he was positive he could give if given more time. But the world wouldn’t stop moving just because of a single person.
Closing his eyes, Chris kissed her forehead for the last time. It was the perfect time to say goodbye, but he chose to leave without saying another word.
He’d known all this time that it would lead to something like this the second she left him that night. His reaction to his wake-up call was a little too late. But what could he do? Problem after problem involving his family arose back then. Fate didn’t give him a chance to redeem himself properly. In the end, it still didn’t change the fact that Chris was a nobody.
That night, the man named Christian Collins, was swallowed in his own grief.