Chapter 263 - It's A Feeling
The door closed behind Angela as she entered her apartment, her heart ramming in her chest while her head was out of sorts.
"What the leapin' lizards just happened?" she muttered under her breath, her hand flying to her chest. Yep her heart was still there.
She darted her eyes from side to side, trying to recall the moment just outside her door. Did Gael just call her 'love'? He'd never called her that before. Sure, it was probably just a careless endearment he didn't mean when he said, but why did that affect her? Rather… Why did she like it so much?
Not to mention, he kissed her. A brief one, yes. But he did, and she could still feel it. Bringing her fingers up, she stroked her bottom lip.
The last time he did was yesterday before he left around noon. It may not be their first kiss, but the kiss he gave felt like the first time all over again.
'It's a choice, love. Not a sacrifice.'
The words echoed in her head, and she stopped herself from scoffing. This man was fit for a male lead in her books. 'How does he think of all these swoon-worthy words to say?' she thought.
Angela shook her head to brush off her thoughts and opened her eyes. The entryway was dim, but as she walked deeper into her place, the overhead lights lit up automatically because of the sensors, illuminating her path. She strode across the kitchen and reached the tall window that's overlooking the front of the building. There, she saw Gael just as he crossed the street.
Rick opened the backseat's door for him, but when she thought that he'd get inside, Gael turned around and looked up. It was as if he could sense she was watching him—or maybe he really just wanted to look, and she happened to be watching him. Either way, they were now staring at each other from a distance. She couldn't see his expression from where she stood as her floor was too high up.
And then he got inside the vehicle. She watched as he left and until she could no longer see the SUV on the road.
Backing away from the tall window, Angela scanned the empty place. She had always liked being alone and being in her own space with no disturbance. But somehow, tonight was just too empty. The thermostat worked fine, but it felt too cold being in here without him.
"This is why you need to stop expecting, Angela. It hurts less when you're not disappointed," she muttered to herself.
She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, twisted the cap, and took a sip. While drinking, the not-stolen plant that Giovanni gave her caught her eye. She chewed her bottom lip as she contemplated before lifting it from the floor and placing it on the kitchen island counter.
Her tongue poked the inside of her cheek as she stared at the green plant for a second too long, and then she disappeared into the second bedroom where her office was. Her head was still buzzing, but she could hold herself just fine as she moved about her place, printing some photos, carrying stuff here and there, and putting them around the plant. Good thing she was living alone, or someone would think she'd gone mad.
Several minutes later, she stepped away from the counter and admired her artwork. With a small remote in her hand, she pressed a button, and the plant lit up. Fairy lights swirled around the plant, which now had small red ribbons here and there. The Welcome plant that Giovanni gave was actually a ZZ Plant or a Fortune Tree that was said to bring good fortune or luck. She wondered if Giovanni knew what it meant when he stole—got it.
The white pot that housed the plant had some pocket-sized photos and polaroid pictures of her favorite people and things stuck around it. There was a photo of her and her father, Oliver, Nina, her published books, the new apartment, a couple of photos she took when she went to New York recently, and another one she had with the children from the orphanage.
She had debated with herself whether she'd include something or not. Still, she ended up also sticking the pink note that Giovanni wrote on the plant—it was about him 'feeding' the plant with Gatorade because it looked dehydrated. It put a smile on her face, and she decided that it was funny. Hence, she included it.
In her hand were two photos. The first one, Gael took a picture of himself on her phone back on the island when they drank that one night four months ago. It was the one without the silly filter on—he looked handsome and carefree. It was back when she didn't know the truth about him yet. And the other one was taken yesterday morning before everything went downhill. He had just finished cooking breakfast when she came close and took a selfie with him. He had his arms wrapped around her waist, kissing her temple.
The photo was so sweet that it would instantly make her smile whenever she looked at it. What she had with him was great. It wasn't perfect, but it was great. She was still battling with herself, and yet despite everything, she wanted this.
Was she cruel? Was it self-destructive?
Maybe so… But the better question was: Was she willing?
With all these in mind, Angela went to the plant and taped the two photos side by side.
She liked Christmas, but she didn't see the point of putting up a tree at her place when she'd been living alone for a while now. The idea came out of nowhere, and now she had a fortune plant Christmas tree, decorated with fairy lights and red bows. She wasn't entirely superstitious, but she heard that tying a red bow on this kind of plant said to bring good fortune. There was no harm in doing so, and she certainly needed some good luck coming her way.
The pictures she attached on the pot were like the presents that one would find under their trees—only hers weren't wrapped, and they were more like treasures than gifts.
A glowing smile cast on her face as she affectionately admired her work. It wasn't the grandest Christmas tree, but it was undoubtedly precious.
Taking out her phone, she made a short video of her Christmas plant and posted it on her Instagram with the caption: "Christmas isn't a season. It's a feeling. -Edna Ferber"
After hitting the submit button, Angela took a deep breath and took one last glance at the plant before turning around and heading to her bedroom. She was now sober. Tonight had just ended, but tomorrow was yet to come.