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“Rather than a gallery, how about we visit Vincent Russo’s foundation?” I sold seven paintings to him recently, it would be fun to see how he put them to use.
“Sounds good to me.”
We took a shower, got dressed—I wore a yellow sundress and a pair of black Louis Vuitton sandals and a purse. I allowed my hair to drop down my waist and wore a light makeup,
Christy wore the same thing but in a different color. We weren’t taking our cars since there was a chance we would visit a bar and have a drink or two, so we booked an Uber.
When our ride arrived, we both hopped in, chatting about a new ice cream spot we would visit from the hospital.
We stopped by a grocery store to buy some fruits for her and the driver pulled the car to a curb in front of the hospital minutes later, the white hospital building towering above us. I hadn’t been here in a while, not because I was busy, but because I didn’t like to see my Mom looking so pale and sickly. I didn’t like that we couldn’t gossip about our daily lives like we used to.
“Try not to look down in front of her,” Christy instructed. “We don’t want her worrying about you. Make sure to wear a smile all through.”
“Aye aye, captain,” I said with a salute. A wide smile spread across my lips. That was the smile my mother would see.
We walked into the hospital building and took an elevator to the floor my mother was in. When we reached the white door of I room, I stopped, sucking in deep breaths and trying to calm the rumbling in my stomach.
Christy placed a reassuring hand on me, rubbing my shoulder, and waited until I was calm enough before we walked in.
A smile pulled on my mother’s face when she saw us, but it wasn’t wide due to the disfiguring of the left half of her face. She mumbled something I assumed to be my name.
“Mom.” I dropped next to her, wrapping my arms around her and hugging her. I remembered my mother used to smell like sunflowers and lavender, but now she only smelt like a hospital and pills.
Pain splintered through my chest, but I didn’t let it reflect on my face as I pulled back. “How are you, Mom?”
She smiled and I knew she meant to say she was doing fine. I took her hand and began to massage it. “I’m good too, Mom. Guess what?” She raised her brow. “I signed a contract worth millions with Vincent Russo. I’ll be heading to his foundation today.”
Mom muttered, “I’m proud of you.”
Me and Christy spent the next few hours filling her in on our lives and feeding her some of the fruits we bought. She fell asleep listening to us. I covered her with her blanket and placed a kiss on her forehead, my vision blurring with tears.
I was glad she was asleep so she couldn’t see them rolling down my face or hear me sniffle as I tried to hold the tears back.
We headed to the foundation afterwards. It was an hour away from the hospital and by the time we arrived, we were both hungry.
“I think we should stop by Domino’s for some pizza,” Christy suggested, rubbing her stomach.
“And some ice cream,” I added. It was really sunny today and my throat was dry, craving something cold, sweet and unhealthy.
We climbed the staired porch of the foundation building and my feet came to a halt when my eyes met his. Blue piercing eyes that peered through my body, looking deeper into my soul.
Despite the scorching temperature outside, he wore a white mock turtle-neck sweater, with the sleeves rolled up. His Jordan sneakers and his sweatpants were also white and his jewelry glinted off the sunlight.
He smiled at me and I froze, my heart sinking in my stomach the closer he came. Was he going to talk to me? What were we going to talk about?
I didn’t want to talk to him. I was too angry and nervous to try and be civil. My way of talking right now would be punching him in the stomach or kicking him in the balls, but I wasn’t a violent person.
Luckily, he didn’t stop when he reached me. He just passed, the scent of his perfume hitting me and striking a sense of nostalgia.
I wanted to run after him and hug him from behind. I wanted to tell him I missed him even if we had seen each other just last night, but I would be embarrassing myself if I did that.
He’s no longer yours, Mariana. He never was.
I clutched my dress, gripping it tightly until I could no longer feel or smell him. My heartbeat didn’t return to normal over the next few minutes, and my stomach didn’t stop flipping either.
Now I knew what my feelings for Vlad was.
To me, we were never just fuck buddies. He was special to me, and held a special spot in my heart.
