Things would be a lot easier if Mark was just an ordinary classmate for me and yet...
I bit my lips so hard that I almost drew blood, but the image of my aging parent flashed in my mind. Their hair had turned gray because of me. I couldn't let pride get in the way and waste any more time.
With that renewed resolution, I called my collegemate and best friend, Anna Huttington.
"Anna," I started then paused a moment. Then I forced myself to tell her my request, "Do you have Mark Ruffus's contact information? You do? Can you send me his number?"
I did not wait long before Anna sent me a string of numbers to my WhatsApp. I looked at them and dialed the number. The call connected and it rang once, twice, three times.
My heart thumped in time with each ring and clenched my fists nervously. However, the tone went dead, replaced by an automated message. Mark did not answer her call.
I sure did not flatter myself by thinking he would recognize my number and choose to ignore it. More likely, he did not pick up the call from an unknown number.
I sighed and then transferred my last fifteen thousand dollars from her card to her parents. Just as I completed the transaction, Mark's call came in.
"Hello?" His voice was casual and slightly husky, carrying the same nonchalant drawl he’d had when they were younger. I could almost picture him leaning back, long legs crossed lazily, completely at ease.
My heart raced. I was more nervous now than during my first job interview.
"Mark," I began with an unsteady voice. "It's been a long time. This is Bella."
There was a brief pause then with a click he hung up.
When we finally met face-to-face again after all these years, I felt completely stripped of the confidence I once had. Mark sat across from me after he draped his black coat over the chair beside him. He wore a simple white sweater that hugged his broad shoulders and his exposed forearms showing off his muscles.
Time had been kind to him. His slightly messy hair fell softly over his brows and his sharp nose and thin lips remained unchanged. His deep, almond-shaped eyes, always a bit mischievous, had only grown more compelling, the upturned corners dusted with a hint of rouge-like warmth. Though he dressed with more maturity, his face still carried a hint of youthful recklessness.
I sipped my coffee and took a contract from my bag.
"Mr. Ruffus," I said and pushed the contract across the table. "Here's the contract draft. Please take a look."
Mark picked it up and flipped through a few pages without much interest.
“I remember you used to hate coffee,” he remarked. Although his tone sounded almost casual his gaze remained fixed on me without blinking.
The intensity of his gaze made my scalp tingle and I almost broke my finger under the table.
“I drink it now,” I replied. “If there’s anything unreasonable in the contract, we can discuss it.”
Mark scanned the document for few times before putting it down. His brows furrowed and his voice dropped, edged with irritation, "Are you still with Sonny?"
His question made my face burn with embarrassment and did not manage to give him a reply. Memories rushed back in my mind about how our last encounter had ended. Mark was livid at that time, his veins was bulging as he yelled at me, while calling me ungrateful.
Even after all these years, the memory of his angry expression was seared into my mind.
Back in university, Mark had pursued me relentlessly for two years. Even though he knew I had been going steady for a year, he would follow me around like a lovesick puppy, only to be rejected repeatedly.
It would have been easier to bear if I had been happy, but Sonny had come from a poor family and spent most of his time working part-time jobs. Sometimes, he even needed me to lend him money for his living expenses.
When Mark found out about this, he was furious. He cornered me when I was heading to a part-time job, demanding to know what I saw in Sonny and why he wasn’t good enough for me.
