CHAPTER 38

XAVIER'S POV

Fuck, it was her mum. I tried to look calm in front of Ophelia. I didn't want her to think that I didn't want to meet her parents. I really did. But, I was nervous.

Very nervous.

After all, I was a nobody with a future that was as dull as-

There was actually nothing to compare it to. It was that dull.

"Good evening Mrs. White! I am Xavier. Xavier Diego, Ophelia's boyfriend."

Her mother smiled at me and then looked at Ophelia questioningly.

"You never told me you had a boyfriend, Lia."

Ophelia's eyes flashed with hurt. She fisted her palms and bit her lower lip twice. She closed her eyes for a second or two and then opened them. The hurt or the pain had disappeared. It was replaced by a fierceness that made Mrs. White blink too.

"That's because you never asked, mother."

An awkward silence lasted for a minute or two. The tension between Ophelia and her mum was so thick, that you could cut it with a knife.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. White. I think I'll take my leave now. It's really late. Bye Ophelia."

As I turned to take my leave, Ophelia held my arm.

"Don't. Stay for a while. I want you to."

It was nine-thirty in the evening and she asked me to stay, in front of her mum. Wow, my girlfriend had some guts. I tried so hard not to smirk but I was pretty sure a proud smile was radiating off of my face.

"Are you sure? And only if it's fine with Mrs. Whi-"

"Yea, I'm sure." And with that, she dragged me into her house, pushing right past her mum. She walked upstairs, with me tagging behind her. I remember her mum's face as she stared straight at Ophelia.

It was filled with disbelief.

I knew things were bad with her mum, but I didn't know it was this serious.

As we finally reached her room, she shut the door completely and jumped on her bed. It was when she shut the door, I realized we were alone in her room. I looked around and saw her room. It had plain white walls, with a few pictures of her and an older girl, probably her sister.

Her room wasn't messy but it wasn't the tidiest, too. Her books were arranged in a stack on the table. A brown book with a leathered cover, that looked like a journal, sat on her bedside table beside a black pen. Her laptop laid on her bed along with her orange blanket.

Orange and white were the two colors that she used often.

"Yeah, I know my room's messy. Stop judging me with those staring eyes of yours."

I chuckled as I stood awkwardly at the corner. I didn't know what I was supposed to do or where I was supposed to sit.

I didn't want to appear as a pervert. Honestly, looking at Ophelia made me forget about all that sex crap. Every time, I looked at her, all I wanted to do was stay with her.

Nothing else. At least, for now.

I knew she wasn't ready and nor was I.

"You can sit, you know?"

Her voice pulled me out of thoughts.

"Sit? Oh okay, yeah I know." I sat down on her bed. God, I don't know what was wrong with me. I was being such a klutz.

"Listen, you stay here. Don't go down. You can leave after everyone's asleep. I don't want you facing my parent's wrath, right now. We'll cross that bridge, when we reach it. I'll just take a quick shower."

And with that, I was left all alone in her room. I heard the shower turn on. I once again looked around and my eyes landed on her journal. I knew I wasn't supposed to read it.

So, I just tried to divert my mind. Think of other things.

Books

Pride and prejudice.

School.

Ophelia.

Her room.

Her defiance.

Her journ-

Ahh, fuck it. One quick peek won't do her any harm. My conscience scolded me as I took her book. The leathered cover felt smooth in my hands. I opened the book and her familiar writing came into my view. It looked like a diary more than a journal. She wrote up entries almost every day.

I wasn't going to read anything.

No, that was just wrong on my part. I decided to quickly flip through it and keep it aside. As I was flipping the pages, halfway through, something caught my eye.

It wasn't an entry. It was a poem. She wrote the title beautifully. It was called, Find me.

Don't search for me;

I'm in every moving breeze of the wind.

And in every rushing wave of the ocean.

Don't search for me.

I'm in the shaking whisper of your lips.

And in the gentlest of your breath.

Don't search for me;

I'm in that fleeting moment, that everyone wished lasted longer.

Don't search for me;

I may not always be here.

But I'm there.

What did she mean by this? I didn't even know she could write poems. Why would she ask others not to search for her, if she was right here?

I closed the book and kept it away. We were so busy searching for Nicole, that I forgot to even ask her how she felt.

This poem sounded like a beautiful suicide note. Why did she write it? Guilt started flooding my mind as I realized that I didn't even know Ophelia had been going through stuff. The running away, the panic attacks, and then this.

I felt like such an idiot.

She never failed to be there for me.

And I?

I was a fucking moron. She never asked for help, but I never asked her if she was okay, either.

I remember her smiles but I never noticed the pain behind her eyes. I remember her laughs but I never saw her panic attacks.

I-I felt so helpless.

Like I was here, but I didn't do anything to be there for her.

I shook my head and decided to look at the latest entry. I knew this was a huge invasion of her privacy, but I had to know if she was okay. Even if it meant that she wou-

"Ahh, that shower felt ama- What are you doing, Xavier?"

It was like time paused. Ophelia stared at me with a baffled look on her face. Anger shone like a star in her eyes. Her auburn hair was drenched from the shower and she wore an over-sized t-shirt over a pair of grey pajamas. God, she looked adorable with her red nose.

"I'm talking to you, Xavier! Quit staring for fuck's sake and tell me what you were doing with my journal?"

I can't believe, I didn't hear the shower stop. God, I'm a fool.

"I-uh-I am sorry, Ophelia. I-I shouldn't have looked into your journ-"

"Yeah, you shouldn't have, Xavier." She walked up to me with rage burning in her eyes. Her anger started off as a newly born star that began burning as it dies.

She snatched the book from my hand and kept it on the table. She then proceeded to walk to the other side of the bed and sat down. I was watching her silently, like a guilty dog who knew about the mess it made.

She plugged in her earphones and closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ophelia. I know I shouldn't have looked at your journal. But, my curiosity got the best of me. I'm sorry."

She didn't respond for a few seconds. She kept her eyes shut and laid still.

"It's okay, Xavier. I get it. I just.. I just don't like people reading things I write."

Things she writes?

I only read a few of her poems, but I knew she was good at it. Hell, the last one even brought tears to my eyes. I don't get why she wasn't comfortable with people reading her.

"Hey, I don't know whether what I'm going to say is going to make things worse for me or not, but I loved your poems. I really did. And I know that others will too."

She took off her earphones and looked at me. The rage was gone. It was replaced by something I didn't ever expect. Her vulnerability.

She looked so scared. Like, one push and she would break. But, I knew that wasn't her. Even a thousand pushes wouldn't break her. But that didn't mean, those pushes didn't scar her.

And these poems were the physical representation of all those scars.

I didn't pity her. No.

I was proud of her. I was proud of the person she'd become.

"I-I'm not as strong as I look, Xavier. I'm not who you want me to be. Some days, I hate what I see in the mirror. I hate the person I have become. And, I would give just anything to reverse this."

I waited for her to finish. I wanted her to let everything out. Today was really exhausting for her emotionally. And, I wanted to be there for. In every way possible.

"You done?"

She looked up at me and the defiance was back on.

"Yeah, I'm done. I know I'm not the best person to be around oka-"

I hugged her tight. She was shocked at first. But, a few seconds later, her arms circled around me. I squeezed her once and whispered in her ears, the words she needed to hear.

The words she needed to know.

"You are the strongest person I've met. Do you get that? You aren't weak. And you're definitely not broken. You're the bravest soul I've met and I'm proud to be called your boyfriend."

She tightened her arms around me and hid her face in my shoulders. I slowly rubbed her back as she took deep breaths.

God, I really couldn't get enough of this woman, could I?