Chapter Sixty Five

"I hope I'm not too late. I'm so sorry." I said as I joined Tristan on his table.

"It's nothing." He smiled. That mesmerizing smile. He's adorable, Ria was right. I could not help but allow myself another stare.

"And I apologize for not picking up for calls. I have…" I said. "I had a lot in my life to take care of."

"Brandy?" He offered, and suddenly, I felt like that was what I needed to be alright, to clear my mind. I just got threatened by my father, or I just got told that I'd be useless if I didn't hook up with this innocent man.

"How many bottles have you had?" I asked.

"Not much"he chuckled. "We all have a lot in our minds." He signaled to the waiter to get mine.

Spirits, I thought, putting the spout to my lips, feeling the cold of the glass, the sting of the liquor, taking it in. Best thing ever, so refreshing. I keep drinking, suddenly realizing how thirsty I was. 

"That was good?" He questioned.

"Perfect!" I gasped.

"So tell me. What do you have in mind? Let's rant."

"Wow, you really want to hear me vent? Wouldn't it be too boring for a date?"

"No." He shook his head. "It's better to vent than fake it. "

"But I barely know you."

"Really?"

The way he asked that question, I could tell how much he didn't want to believe that he still was a stranger to me.

"Okay…" I murmured, glanced at the two thugs on the table next to us. "I think it's better to vent with strangers."

"Since I lost my parents, life hasn't been good to me. Of course, you know Jude Kam whom you got my info from is my uncle. Do you know who my mom was, Annabelle Steele?"

"Who doesn't?" I laughed, he joined in, and we made a quick toast.

"Tell me what you know about her."

"She was a journalist. I saw her face most times on the TV when I was a kid. I must say, you look a lot like her."

"I'll accept that as a compliment." I blushed. I shouldn't have. I felt intoxicated of the brandy. I had finished my bottle and already taking from his. He told the waiter to bring more.

"You drink this much?"

"Who doesn't?" I said, tactlessly.

Well, who doesn't? Damien. That perfect jerk!

"Slow down, okay."

"Fine." I nodded. " I wanted to be like my mum. A journalist! Well, I couldn't. That's a long story. Not for tonight. I just feel like my nineteen years on this earth has been a waste. I'm not fulfilled."

"You're nineteen?"

"Are you surprised?"

He was quiet. I hissed. "Tch, I get that a lot. I'm just in my second year in college. Haven't enjoyed life. Haven't had a life. You know, I get scared occasionally. Of death."

"You will not die, Page."

"And who knows that for sure? People die a lot."

I stopped.

"I lost someone. Recently. I will never get over that. Never. I think I lost people too much. "

I drank more.

"Who's this person?"

"You go on and rant. I'm done." I said. "You know, all I said was unreasonable but… Thank you for listening to me, okay?"

He smiled slightly. "Sorry for your loss. "

I winced. "You never know."

"Ehm." He swallowed. "I have a problem."

"I feel you." I moaned, gulping in more brandy. She's drunk and she won't stop.

"I've never felt this way for no one before. That makes me feel miserable." He paused. "I really should avoid the airplane next time. You never know." He groaned.

I stared at him. Did he suddenly forget that I was the one he was speaking to? His crystal blue eyes, piercing, inviting. He wrapped his hand around mine on the table. I felt electrified. His warmth, his touch, all sent ripples down my spine. I couldn't tell if it was a true feeling or my drunken state added to it.

"What do you mean?" I arched my brow.

"Never mind."

"Oh boy, don't be shy." I winked.

He was quiet, staring intently.

"Okay, let's just say, you fell in love with the wrong person, and you regret it so much that you…"

"No. Not that." He interrupted. "I do not regret, girl."

That voice. Hm… No. Did he just call me girl? Like payback?

No, his voice was all that ministered to me. That huskily drunk yet sweet voice.

I gulped in more of the brandy and shut my eyes, they were heavy and my brain spinning. I better start heading home.

"I think I need to go home."

"I see."

I tried to stand up on my feet, instead I staggered back and almost fell. His arm caught me before I did. We were so close, and I felt the heat of his stare upon me.

"I'll take you home."

"You're also drunk. I'm not."

"Really?"