Rachael darted her eyes around when she entered the coffee shop. She wasn't searching for him, because she spotted him sitting at a table near the window. Rachael was glad there wasn't many people in the coffee shop. Only a couple sitting near the window, too, and a man reading newspaper at the last seat in the shop.
Rachael walked towards Edward who shared a smile with her. "If you don't mind, can we sit far from the window? It won't be good for me to be seen by those paparazzi," she explained when he wanted to protest.
Being a celebrity isn't an easy thing, especially in a country like Liberia. You can't go walking about freely.
Edward followed her to a table on the other side of the coffee shop. "I placed an order for you. Black coffee, two sugars and donuts are your favorites, right?" He asked her with a smile.
"You still know me," she stated with a smile. "How I wish I still knew you like you know me." Rachael watched him blush after the statement was stated. He knew exactly what she was stating.
Edward looked at his wristwatches. "My break will be over half of an hour from now," he said, taking his coffee from the waitress.
"I'm sorry for making you wait," Rachael apologised.
"It's OK." He waved it off. "I guess we aren't here for something that has to do with health, right?" Edward asked Rachael, putting the mug on the table.
"No. I have a major health issue. I have a mental health problem as we speak," she told him.
"You called the wrong doctor."
"I called the right one," Rachael said to him. "Because I know only you can help get rid of this derangement."
"Help. But I can't get rid of it." He made it clear to her. "I'm still asking myself why you wanted us to meet here. You sounded desperate on the phone." Edward wanted to get straight to the point and be done with it. There was no need pretending when he knew why Rachael called him.
Rachael chuckled. "Desperate? Desperate is an understatement for what I am right now," Rachael said. "Let me ask you, Edward. If you were in my shoes, what would you have done?"
Edward tilted his head. "Exactly what Charles is telling you. I won't go about stressing myself," Edward retorted. "Rachael, you're stressing yourself for nothing."
"Am I?" Rachael asked him.
Edward nodded.
"Edward, do you even understand what you're saying? I was supposed to be married to your best friend yesterday, but I wasn't, and you know why," Rachael said, staring into his soul.
Edward looked away from her. From the moment he received the call from her, he knew she called to squeeze the truth out of him. He and Rachael had been good friends for him to know her well.
"Because Vivian told him to?" Edward asked, sipping his coffee.
"Because Vivian has a secret for him which you know," she said a little bit louder. The steps of someone walking from behind made her stop for a minute. The man who had been reading the newspaper in his all-black suit walked past them, not having time for who they were of what the fuck they were talking about.
"You statement is based on assumption, Rachael," Edward said in a very nice, gentleman tone.
Now Edward was going to play hard-to-tell like Charles, too? Both of them made the right choice when they became best friends. Birds of the same feather.
Rachael sighed. She didn't expect the conversation to go the way it was. She expected a smooth talk. "Edward, my assumptions are layered with facts, and you know that. Charles is your best friend. You've know him longer than I have."
"That doesn't give you the right to raise false allegations, sweetheart," Edward said, reclining in the cushioned, red chair. He didn't even look bothered— he was calm like a river. "I advise you go home, and wait for your husband to spill the tea?"
If only she had listened to Christina, she wouldn't have gone to meet up with Edward who would never give away his best friend, Charles.
"Go home? I can't," Rachael said, putting her hand over his hand that was on the table. "I really want to help Charles. Look at me." She waited for him to look back at her. "I swear I want to. But I can't help Charles if the two of you are going to keep me in the dark. I ask God to beg you, Edward. Please bring me into this." Rachael didn't know where the tears came from. They formed in her eyes and were already rolling down her face before she could wipe them.
Edward stared at Rachael with pity. He could feel the pain she was going through at the moment. But telling her would only bring about complexity of the matter, and cause more pain.
Rachael had a very good repetition. If she would be brought into the ring, Vivian might end up blackmailing her—if Vivian would find it necessary. She could be dragged into the mess, and all that she had worked so hard for would be sabotaged.
"Rachael," Edward began, "You really want to know?" He asked her. Rachael nodded. Edward sighed then placed his other hand over Rachael's hands. "You are very intelligent, witty, Rachael. You don't need me to tell you when you already have it before you."
She broke down. Just when Rachael thought he was going to tell her, and all the drama was going to be over, he simply told her he wasn't going to tell her in a nice tone. That was fucked up.
"I need you to place my hand on it," Rachael stated, taking one of her hands from under his and put it over. "I'm in the dark. It's in the dark with me. I can't see it. Lead me to it, Edward," Rachael said the words like a poet.
"It's before your eyes, Rachael. You see everything. All you need to do is pull it out of its shell," Edward mimicked her.
"You know what? I'm sick and tired of all this mysterious shit. I am going to hire a private investigator if that is going to help take this weight off my shoulders," Rachael said.
Edward eyes almost jumped out of their sockets. "What? Hiring a PI will lead to a bigger trouble, Rachael. If you really love Charles, you won't do that. Trust me."
"Trust you?"
"Us," Edward said.
"Ma'am," the waitress who had served them spoke up before Rachael could speak. Rachael turned around and saw the girl holding a wrapped gift in her hand. The girl extended her hand to Rachael. "Someone wants me to give this to you," she said, waiting for Rachael who had been staring at the present, shocked, to take the gift from her.
"Who sent that?" Rachael asked, looking at the gift as if it would explode the second she touch it.
"The man who was sitting over there," the blonde head pointed to the spot where the man reading the newspaper had been seated.
Rachael stared at the empty spot, waiting for the man to magically appear back into the seat so she could confront him. Something told her he was the sender of the first one. Both looked exactly the same.