Page 46 of Malachi and I


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“Li-Mei.” I stared back into his eyes. “She reads you all the time. She so—”

“Stop.” He frowned. “Don’t mention her to me.”

“Malachi, she’s my friend and she—”

“If she is your friend why do you want her to die?” He might as well have slapped me. That’s how harsh the reality of his words were. “She is safe without me as I am safe without her. So don’t dangle her in front of me…it’s inhumane.”

“Then why am I here?” Why was I trying so hard? If he didn’t want to change his story—his life—he shouldn’t have to. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Reaching down for my backpack I threw it over my shoulder. My brows came together in a frown as I felt ashamed now. “I said I believed you. But I lied. I didn’t really spend any time thinking a

bout it. I just told myself to accept what you believed…but I believe you now. I really do. I don’t think you should be forced to write that way either.”

I offered him a smile even though I could feel myself barely making an effort. Nodding to him I walked towards the door. “Just let me know what you want to publish. I’ll go ahead with it after speaking to my grandfather. Have a good day.”

The wind was so strong that it felt like it was trying to push me back inside. But I just held on tighter to the handle of my tote. I ran down the stairs, around the corner of the house, onto the brick path and into the small wooden guesthouse. I actually liked it. It was cozy. Everything was on one floor and the kitchen overlooked the living room just like with the main house. A large, silver flat screen hung in front of the dull brown couch which I’d livened up with a white, blue and green quilt I’d bought at Fung’s Quilts and Carpets. I’d moved the coffee table towards the side of the fireplace in order to make room for my makeshift bed since it was always so cold in the bedroom. Grabbing the quilt and my pillow which lay on the side of the couch I laid down on the carpet and rolled myself up into a cocoon.

“Umm…” I clutched my chest.

Why did I feel like this?

Why did my heart hurt like this?

Take a deep breath, Esther.

That’s right.

That’s it.

“You are the bringer of your own happiness,” I whispered to myself. I said it over and over again until I could sit up on my own.

Shifting until my back pressed up against the couch I took out my laptop, opened the word document to the four plus pages I’d written, and deleted everything. I sat watching the cursor blink at me as it awaited my command…my voice. The problem was that I didn’t know my voice…but I knew the Yamauchi’s.

MALACHI

FRIDAY

8:47 a.m.

I stared at the clock then back at the door.

“I can do this for a while. Why? Because I want my book. My book is the rainbow, you’re the rain.” I mocked her as I lay back down on my bed. “All I said was the truth.” And she gave up for the second day in a row. Not that I cared, but her lack of tenacity was quite disappointing. Closing my eyes I waited but sleep didn’t come.

The darkness didn’t come.

Instead, there was a single beam of sunlight that peeked through the curtains in an attempt to blind me.

I had woken up at almost two hours ago.

I rose from my bed and moved towards the curtains.

With a view like this, why am I looking at her place?

Was she even there?

“What am I thinking?” I didn’t care where she was. She could go back home if she wished… Shit, Alfred.

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