PRESENT
If I remember it correctly, I was seven—no, I was eight. I was eight years old when my grandfather's lawyer gave us his journal. We were all curious to what the journal is all about but like what was according to grandfather's last will, we are not allowed to read nor even open it. All we know was that it was written in the year 1945 when the second world war just ended.
The last will clearly say that the journal is to be donated along with the books that our family donates into various libraries and when found, that person who ever got the first hold of the journal shall be asked to read the journal and retell it. I don't know how particularly that would happen because the whole thing seemed to be impossible.
For one, how can we know that the journal has been found? Or if found, how will we make sure that no one else besides the one who found it read it? Or what if it isn't found at all? There are other factors that makes it impossible and too unrealistic to accomplish.
But grandfather's lawyer seemed to be as confident as grandfather when he wrote the last will. He simply told us that we need to follow the last will in order to receive our grandfather's last properties and full access to his remaining riches.
I remember father having that determined look that we shall accomplish the last will. Not because of the money or riches left for us to have. We didn't necessarily need it anyway because we are rich even without it. His determined look was for the promise he made for our grandmother. It was all blurry, to be honest, but all I can say is that accomplishing the last will is the most important thing for our family—it also serves as our respect to grandfather and to father's promise to grandmother.
I also remember my four older siblings questioning father on why I should be the one to fulfil the last will. I was the youngest they argued, how can a child finish a will? I also wanted to ask why am I the one to do it but when I got the hold of the journal, I simply knew that I had to do it.
Does it have something to do to the fact that I carry grandfather's name? I was not sure but it might be just coincidental.
It was all unexplainable because I just knew I had to do it without really knowing what I should do.
Later that year, month of May, we were set to donate the journal. Along with the boxes of books, I got to choose where box I'll put the journal in. No note saying anything, no anything of such explanation to what the journal holds and means to whoever who may find it. I don't even remember in where box I placed it because it was identical with the rest of the boxes.
The whole thing is still impossible for me. Too unrealistic to happen. But just like what grandfather's lawyer said, we just have to follow the will and everything is set. I have too many arguments but like what I was told to do so, I simply believed to what grandfather wanted to happen.
I thought, the very least, that it will happen immediately. That the journal will be naturally found immediately when someone opened the box where I placed it. My siblings were the ones who contacted the libraries we sent our donations to—but all of them said that there was no journal along the books they received.
Every time that we donate to the libraries, even though we know we already sent the journal the first time, we will still ask the personnel of the libraries if they have seen the journal. Years have passed and we still receive the same answer from everyone. No journal.
We all didn't know that it will take almost twenty years for the journal to be found.
"Thank you very much, Sir Vincent, for your donation but before I forgot, there seemed to be a mistake."
A sudden tug in my heart, I had to clench my fist over my chest because it somehow hurts. "Mistake? Were the books damaged perhaps?"
"Oh no, sir, nothing like that. We just opened them and we actually found a journal. Usually personal journals are returned to the owner—"
"Are you the one who found it?"
I hear her soft laugh from the other line and I can imagine her shaking her head. "My co-worker found it, sir. So, does the journal belongs to you, sir?"
After the long wait, I didn't know this day will still come. "I can describe the journal."
"Of course, sir." She calls out to the person named Art and explains that I am one of their donors.
I can still perfectly remember what the journal looks like. "The journal is leather-bound."
She repeated what I said and I can even hear the confirmation. I continued describing the journal—our family crest was embossed in the lower left corner. It is a rose, my grandmother's favorite flower.
When I am positive that that is the journal, I asked, "can I meet him now?".
It doesn't matter to me if I am being too urgent—I waited for years for this. I have to meet him now.
I didn't hear the rest of their conversation because it seemed like Miss Jihan didn't want me to hear it and I'm sure she didn't hang up on me. A few more moments when she confirms that Sir Art agrees upon meeting me. I also told Miss Jihan that I'll have my driver pick Sir Art up.
I'm excited. I'm actually nervous. All these mixed emotions that I never knew I will have today is making me feel impatient. I never felt this kind of impatience before.
But I waited for almost twenty years for this—what is a few minutes more?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"So, are you telling me that you like him?"
I grin and shrug. "Maybe."
"Come on, Third! You're not seriously going to left me hanging after telling me that someone—finally—have caught your attention. It's like a miracle and it's not just a small thing!"
This impatient guy who's bombarding me with his questions in none other than my own bestfriend—Uno Hide, a Police Inspector. He started calling me Third during our high school days just so I can match his name as a joke but he carried it until today.
I didn't plan to tell him all about this but I need someone to be with me before I lost it. I didn't know waiting for something for almost two decades and finally having it right before your eyes will take its toll on my mental health. At least I need someone to neutralize things for me by sharing this burden.
Despite being a happy-go-lucky-kind-of-guy that he naturally is, he is also the smartest person I know. It wasn't hard for him to absorb everything I just told him. He even joked about being hurt for the fact that I only told him about this now. But like what I expected for him, he focused more on the fact that I met someone for this and not on the actual story that I gave him.
I've only met August twice. At first, I'll admit that I've rushed into meeting him that I didn't think about the consequence it may have. What if he was too overwhelmed and didn't want to proceed? Damn. That would make all the years I've waited into nothing. I didn't plan this thoroughly and I almost punch myself for being too reckless. I have to be careful because, in all honesty, I don't know what I'll do if he didn't want to do this with me. Nobody can ever explain how relieved I am that he seemed to be too curious about the journal and will sign a contract with me.
With the years I had in waiting for the journal to be found, I already polished the contract that I'll offer to whoever found the it. At least, this is where I am good at and I know the contract will not have any loopholes. I—we—have to accomplish grandfather's last will no matter what.
Even if it means that I'll have to set aside my immediate fascination with August the moment I met him.
I could only really smile with that which annoys Uno more. But what can I seriously tell him? August is just...
August Arthur—the person who found the journal.
This is purely business I told myself. This is only for the accomplishment of grandfather's last will. This has nothing to do with me meeting August who I think is the most interesting person that I've met.
"Yeah, don't give me details but continue smiling like an idiot like that."
I laughed hard with that. "I can't help it. He's just..."
"My friend is finally whipped for someone!" He jokingly shouts. Good thing that my office is sound-proofed. "My friend is finally giving me that idiot lovey-dovey smile! Yuan Vincent the Third has finally turned into a human for having a heart!"
I chuckled and shook my head.
There's only one thing I'm sure of—I finally found the person who can look at me in the eyes.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I know August is still uncomfortable with me by how our contract signing has ended. Maybe he is, after all, mad for what I asked for him to sign. But that's the only thing that would comfort myself for making him do the last will with me.
I still believe that the journal is cursed—somewhere in the years that I've waited for it made me have that conclusion. A childish one that I grew up with because it's the only explanation I have for last will to be possible. The journal is cursed and he will be cursed with me. The material things I will be giving him are somehow enough to put my mind at ease for cursing him with me.
"I'm sorry." I said, feeling that it's the right thing to do.
There it is again, August's way of looking at me straight in the eyes no matter what. "Please don't apologize for it anymore." He gave me a small smile. "It's making me want to regret signing it."
"I'm so—" I laughed at myself for almost apologizing again. "Then, I thank you for signing it."
Our orders came and I insisted to be the one who pours us our wine.
I know he didn't want us to meet up again in a restaurant like this but we still have one thing left to do for today. He now has to retell me all about the first entry of the journal. Luckily for me, I had Miss Jihan to push August to come with me.
We ate our first few bites when he opened our topic to the journal's first entry.
I really didn't know what to expect when I finally got to experience this. I had all the years of waiting and anticipating for this to happen and yet... I don't really know to myself what I am expecting to know. This is really just it. The moment I've been waiting for.
And all this time that he is telling me everything, my heart is beating hard against my chest.
August smiles, showing me how genuinely curious and happy he is upon reading it. I'm glad to see that all his uncomfortableness from what happened earlier is gone. "I know it's too early to say this and I'm not in the position to give my opinion, but I think we're about to meet your grandfather's first love."
That made me smile, too. My grandfather's first love. I ignored a sudden pang in my chest like his words hit the jackpot in me.
"Please don't do that."
He is suddenly flustered. "O-Oh. I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to g-give my opinion—"
I couldn't help myself, I laughed but immediately apologized for it. "I meant to say don't hold back and don't think twice when giving your opinions, August. It means a lot for me to know what you have in mind. Don't ever hesitate saying what you think."
He's still all red and I can't help but to look at him with the same amusement. "O-Okay. I'm sorry if I panic easily. I really don't know how—"
I don't know what has gotten into me but I took his hand and held it tightly. "Breathe, August. I'm not going to eat you."
He did and then ended up laughing. "I'm sorry, I thought I've offended you in some way. That's the last thing I want to happen."
I gave him a reassuring smile. "No, you didn't, I promise. Just next time, you don't need to feel like an outsider asking for permission when you're about to state whatever's in your mind. We're in this together."
"Okay." He answered and his eyes move to my hand.
I felt my ears turn red. I let go of his hand. "I'm sorry—"
He laughs again. "I'm glad that we're both new to this. Both awkward and still adjusting."
"I am too." I scratch my nape. "I'm sorry for holding your hand."
"We're in a tie now. I will not apologize anymore for stating my opinion if you don't apologize again for holding my hand."
"Deal."
The pain in my chest upon hearing the story is gone now and I'm fixated with everything else August is saying. I can see his fascination with reading and I somehow got the feeling that he really wants to finish what he started. At least now I'm assured that we will finish this.
"See you for the next entry, Yuan?"
For the first time tonight, he finally calls me by name again. "I'll see you."
I said that the journal is cursed—I'm glad to be cursed with this person.