Michael
I helped Sylvie move into her hotel room the moment we arrived, and while I wished we could have shared a room, I came to conclude that it was best to take things slow for now. She was still healing from what had happened at the party, trying to force things with her at the moment would probably be a bad idea.
I returned to my room after helping her with the arrangements and immediately collapsed onto the softness of the bed. Our flight had been a long one, and I needed sometime to clear my head and regain my strength before I could get on with any other thing.
As I laid there, my mother's words came replaying in my head, her voice calm and at the same time very loud inside of my head. "When will you get married Michael? Will you wait until the cancer takes me? Won't you give your dear mommy a grandchild before her death? It's just one favour, why won't you just do this for me?"
I clenched my fists tightly and gritted my teeth in anger. "It's not that easy! It's not that easy!" I screamed inside of my head. I'd been born into a life of privilege, and always got the things I wanted anytime I asked for them. I never knew what suffering was, but my parents definitely taught me the essentials and benefits of being hardworking. They provided for me, but at the same time they raised me to understand that a certain point everything wouldn't be done for me.
I was grateful for the way I was raised, but sometimes being born into a life of luxury could be a nightmare. Throughout the entirety of my life it was difficult to know who loved me for my money or for who I really was. It was extremely difficult to find anyone like that, and even until now I was yet to find someone like that, and it made life excruciatingly painful for me. Everybody smiled at me, but ninety percent of those smiles were on their face because they expected something else in return.
I groaned exhaustedly as I turned towards the warm part of the bed, my fists still curled tightly in suppressed rage. My mother wanted a child now, it was all she had been asking since I turned twenty five. Seven years have passed now since the first time she brought up that particular topic, and two years ago she had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She pleaded with me everyday to get married and give her a grandchild, and while I wanted to fulfil that wish for her, I didn't want to end up with a partner who wanted nothing from me but my money.
I had spent the last two years searching for a woman who wasn't interested in my money one bit and had remained unsuccessful. They were all the same, the moment I stopped giving them money, they all changed and turned on me. My mother had a few more years left, and there was no guarantee I'd ever give her the present she had been dreaming for. I loved her so much and wouldn't want to bring a woman who didn't care about her back home. I'd rather remain single than curse her with such a daughter in-law.
I thought that I might never be able to find somebody who would not care about my money, but I was seeing a glimmer of hope in Sylvia Mulberry. Even though I couldn't trust her fully, she was the first lady I saw and immediately took interest in. It could be because she had been publicly humiliated at my welcome party, or perhaps it was just destiny, I really couldn't tell. All I knew for now was that she was different. She didn't seem to care about my wealth, and she was very much comfortable living with her earnings.
Unlike the other girls I've met, she wasn't in a hurry to make money, nor was she out to compete or impress anybody. She was very basic, and at the same time very unique. Although she was hurting at the moment, she didn't allow her personal emotions to get in the way of her friendship with others. Many perceived her as a cheerful and carefree lady, and they chose to neglect her feelings because to them she was 'basic'.
After having that conversation with her in the car, I felt a lot closer to her than I've ever with the other ladies in my life. She didn't hide her mistakes like most of them did, and she didn't try to hide her imperfections like they did. I loved the fact that she had learnt to accept herself and had chosen to love herself despite her faults. She was definitely the kind of woman I needed, and if she doesn't prove my perception of her wrong sometime soon, I would definitely make a move on her.
A knock on the door had me steering away from my thoughts and back to reality. Lazily I rose from the bed and hoped that it wasn't room service. I had informed the hotel to not disturb me for a whole hour, and disobedience would definitely cost them. I wanted to believe they were smart enough to know that I wasn't joking around, and that was exactly why I had stressed myself enough to get down from the bed.
Hesitantly, I opened the door, and before me stood the woman I'd just been thinking about. She seemed troubled, but not too troubled at the same time. Something was definitely up with her, but somehow I couldn't put my finger on it.
"Is something wrong Sylvie?" I inquired as I moved aside to allow her inside.
"I think I have to go back home." She announced, and I felt my heart skip a beat. I raised a curious brow before shutting the door, my eyes constantly fixed on her now tearing up own.
"What's the matter? Is everything okay?" I asked now genuinely scared for her.
She sniffled back her tears, her fingers and voice trembling as she spoke. "My apartment, it got flooded."