TIANA

My mother had been unrelenting with the interrogation and I refused to yield because I couldn't even name what this thing between Luis and I was. All I did know was that we had stepped across the lines of deeming ourselves friends.

I was too grown to ignore that his acts of care, melted the glacier making up my heart. I was growing compliant to the way he invaded my space or graced me with his touch. The grey-eyed man's persistence had worked and whilst I expected a burst of anger at myself for allowing it. The only thing I felt was a sense of acceptance.

Eventually my mother gave up in her attempts to make me open up, but I knew at some point we'd have to talk about it. And another thing that has been bothering me is the fact that I couldn't find Tim's book. I had searched every inch of my apartment and wound up feeling both frustrated and sad at the fact that I couldn't find the only other thing that made me feel close to him.

What was my life coming to, honestly?

"You okay?" Monica asked bumping my shoulder; I bit my lip feeling bad for switching off on her. It had been my idea for us to meet up in the first place.

"Sorry, just have a lot on my mind."

She nodded her head breaking eye contact to gaze at the green landscape of the park we were in," It's okay. To be honest I've been a little off too."

"How come?"

"I don't know. . . I might just be overthinking it but my mom has been acting really strange- been a lot more distant."

At the mention of her mother, I perked up. I had nearly forgotten about the episode in the shop and now that she brought it up I listened attentively. A bit concerned that she was still behaving strangely. The look she gave Luis when she saw him was enough to make me curious. Whilst casting more shadow of doubt on the part of me that was hesitant to the idea of opening up to him.

"I don't mean to sound paranoid," I chuckled nervously," but she looked at Luis in a way. . ."

"In a way like she saw a ghost," she said finishing the statement and I was relieved that I wasn't the only one who saw it.

"Maybe it's a sign that I need to watch my back when it comes to him," I mumbled lowly. My voice lacking the usual confidence and certainty I carried in it whenever I spoke. However, my voice along with emotions wavered.

Monica seemed surprised given the way her mouth gaped at what I said. I chose to fixate on the people moving around the park. Smiling at the sight of a family having a picnic on the grass, carefree to the rest of the cruelty that lurked around and I hoped to have one.

"That's bullshit and you know it," she snickered placing the empty coffee cup onto the empty space between us on the bench.

"I'm not joking, Monica."

She eyed me for a moment and I could see she quickly sobered up from the expression I wore.

"You're overthinking this."

"Am I?"

"Yes," she insisted," and I know what I saw in the shop," she smirked eyeing me in a way that aggravated the ripples in the pools of bliss that often trembled more than they should at the mere thought of him.

"I don't know what you're talking about?" I mumbled tugging on the end of my sweater to distract myself at the way my conscious was seething at the blatant lie.

"Don't act dense. You two were practically eye fucking each other in the shop. I'm surprised there was little contact."

"We're not there yet," I bit back in the hopes of defending myself but the second I registered what I had said I wanted to bury myself in a ditch. I had only made the situation worse. And the way her eyes widened in shock was further proof of that.

"Oh! Yet? So you do plan on . . . you know," she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively sparking a laugh out of me. I felt embarrassed at some of the looks a few people gave us when they passed.

"As if the thought didn't occur to you for you and Nathan," I pointed out tapping her knee lightly when she looked away blushing. However, my smile was wiped away at the way she grew eerily quiet as a frown settled on her face.

"Monica? You okay?"

She exhaled shifting around in her seat crossing her legs in the process, settling into a stiff posture." That's not going to happen."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," she paused biting her lip in thought, the sorrow engulfing her frame and her expression darkened as if a looming cloud of despair was hanging over her," I don't think I have it in me to open up to someone. . . g-given what's. . ." her voice trembled and she gave up shutting her mouth. And I instantly wanted to relinquish that memory permanently dented into her mind. I would never know just what she must be going through having to live with that pain for the rest of her life.

"I really wish I could say something to make you smile. And I'm sorry- if I knew bringing up Nat-"

"It's okay," she breathed heavily smiling at me," it's not your fault. And believe it or not but I needed the company so I was glad you called."

"Good, I needed the company as well."

She gave me a gentle smile and I relaxed, glad that we were still on good terms with one another.

"Amidst the fear and doubt you feel . . . know that I've come face to face with a heartless soul in my life. But from what I've seen, the way he looks at you," she paused contemplating her next choice of words," you should lay your fears and doubt to rest."

I took in her advice with an appreciative ear, aware that she was only trying to offer clarity to the conflict taking place. I felt inclined to do the same.

"Nathan is a good man. And whenever you're ready to take that step, he'll be there," I murmured.

"He doesn't seem to like your man."

"He's not my man," I whined covering my face in embarrassment, the title stirring up the time when my mother referred to him as such when she caught us on the couch. And in as much as I tried to tell her, he wasn't. The position she found us in said otherwise

"Tell that to the rest of your body."

"Can we not get into this argument?"

She shrugged her shoulders and I took that as her way of granting my request.

"I don't really want to get into that. Besides Nathan has his reasons for feeling the way he feels. But it mostly comes from being an overprotective brother."

I was grateful for the care, however, how he went about executing his brotherly care was questioning

"It's cause he's white . . . isn't it?"

I answered with a simple nod although it was a rhetoric question.

"Ever since the incident happened there's been this word that as of late began resonating in my mind the more I managed to pass a day without shedding a tear of pain."

"And what word is that?" I asked watching her closely drawn to the words she said.

She looked at me.

The sadness dissolved from her eyes to the point I could easily see a light shine behind them as she said the word," Forgiveness."