Chapter 49 Chapter Forty Nine
After the first time I was adopted, my guardians and foster homes became a blur of faces and places. Each family I went into always mistreated me and I was lucky to be smart enough to always be able to escape. It was like a whirl- wind of being scolded and punished by the orphanage officials for either misbe- having with my foster parents or running from my foster home and then before I knew what was happening, I was being adopted again and thrown into another bitter family. Having a sweet quaint family just hadn’t been something I was lucky with.
Eventually, the officials got fed up with giving me out since I was bound to re- turn or be returned so they just left me there: Even if anyone said they wanted me, they would shake their heads and say, “Sorry, that one isn’t up for grabs.”
I personally preferred life in the orphanage too. Apart from the poor food – oh. The food could be so terrible and the harsh environment, there was nothing
particularly bad about staying at the orphanage. Atleast, to me. It was better than staying in homes where I either get yelled at for something I did not do or get hit just because my foster parents had a bad day and since there was no oth- er way to vent out their anger, they would assume their adopted daughter was patiently waiting for them to take out their anger and frustration on her.
In the orphanage, my life was austere and boring and quiet and I liked it like that. I liked the serenity. I liked the lack of chaos.
I lived in an orphanage until I was twelve years old. I had been living a pretty simple unattached life until a new family moved to the Villa next to the orphan- age home.
It had been another day of terrible and insufficient breakfast. Still I struggled to get a plate but by the time I was able to stretch my plate to the servers, she passed me and the other kids behind me a sympathetic look that said ‘sorry, you would have to be smarter during lunch.‘
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It was not the first time I was given that look. It wasn’t the second time either. I had gotten used to it and I had also always been okay with waiting till the next meal. But that day was different. The previous night, I had given more than half of my meal to the little girl that was just brought to the orphanage weeks ago be- cause she was unable to get lunch and breakfast.
Rumors had it that her rich parents died in a car crash and she was the only sur- viving one. But for weeks, no relative came to claim her. Since she couldn’t live in the hospital, she had to be gotten out of the way.
Obviously, this poor girl wasn’t used to fighting her way through hungry kids to get her plate filled so she always got pushed out of the way.
With barely my tummy rumbling and zero strength left in me, I scrambled to a
corner with my empty plate.
I had been sitting close to a window upstairs and I could look into the com- pound of the villa next to us. I kept seeing the maids in the villa bring out food to throw away. The shocking thing was that most of the food looked perfectly okay to me.
My b*dy trembled and my forehead dripped with perspiration as I made my way downstairs and snuck out of the orphanage home. My only focus was getting food in my tummy as I scaled the fine tall shrubs of the villa and emerged in their backyard where the backdoor was located.
I made sure no one was looking at me through the window I had exited before I placed my ear on the door to listen for footsteps. At first there were footsteps
and voices and laughter but they soon drifted away.
I pulled at the door and as I would have it, the door was miraculously unlocked.
The aroma of whatever meal they had made wafted through my nose and made my tummy grumble even more. I followed the aroma and thankfully found my-
self in the kitchen.
It was surprising how big the house was but what was more surprising was the kitchen. It was unbelievably large and food stuff was stocked in every part
of the kitchen that for a second there, my hunger disappeared and I was stuck
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as to where to start from.
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That moment didn’t last long before I started to stuff my face with food. The food tasted like heaven compared to the trash we were fed at the orphanage
and my greedy tummy rumbled even more.
There was a properly prepared meal, there were fruits, vegetables, milk, wine,
steak…name it. They had everything in that kitchen.
“Who are you?”
One of the half–eaten apples in my hand dropped and I froze. I slowly turned and came face to face with a curly haired boy in a wheeled chair. If he wasn’t
my age then he would be a year or two older than me.
Despite that my m*uth was filled to the brim,I managed a smile and awkwardly
raised my hand in the air. “Hi,” I mumbled.
The boy just stared at me then his gaze dropped to the apple in my hand. Em-
barrassed, I hid the apple behind me, my gaze trained on the wheels of his
wheelchair.
“I promise and I swear, I’m not-” I started but I was cut short when his chair moved. At first, my heart tightened in fear until he wheeled past me.
“What’s he doing?” I wondered when I turned to him and found him opening the
fridge. He grabbed a box of milk then he wheeled himself to the counter in the
middle of their large kitchen and grabbed a fancy glass cup. He poured the milk
in the cup until it was brimming with it. Then he opened a cabinet and brought
out another set of cooked meals.
As I watched him I was wowed at how much he could get done despite being in
a wheeled chair.
He placed them on the counter, then he gestured to the seat directly before the
cup of milk and food: “Sit down and eat more.” He asked so gently, it almost felt
like he was pleading with me to eat.
“I’m not a thief,” was all I could croak out before I accepted his offer and de-
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voured the meal. I had badly wanted to refuse but I was still hungry and there was a very low chance that I would get dinner tonight.
As I ate, he watched out for me. When I was done, he offered to clear the dish- es and asked me to leave before anyone caught a whiff that I was in the villa.
That day was the day my life changed. When I got back to the orphanage I was so sated that I dropped to my bed and snored away till after dinner. When I woke up, he was all I could think about. Him and the delicious variety of food they had in their kitchen.
Gradually, I started to sneak there whenever I was hungry. He told me to knock and that was all I had to do. He would come and open the door and I would eat
my fill. Sometimes I even went back with a fruit or vegetable.
to my
Later, I started going there even when I wasn’t hungry. I was just drawn to him. We seemed to enjoy each other’s company. We exchanged names; his was Lu- cas. Then I got to learn that he could actually walk because he did one day when we were playing hide and seek. I had started to cry and shout his name when I found his chair empty only for me to feel a tap on my shoulder and I
turned to see Lucas behind me.
He was mostly always in his wheelchair because he constantly got sick and
easily got injured.
Obviously, Lucas‘ family was wealthy. But his parents were never around. He had two kind servants and was provided with whatever he wanted and needed. He used to be very lonely until I snuck into their kitchen. We had a meeting time. and before I arrived, he would have gotten his servants to prepare my favorite – every good meal was my favorite then- and he would prepare all sorts of treats
for me.
I felt like I was living a dream. I had shelter over my head, good extremely suffi- cient food and a friend any kid would wish for. Lucas was patient and smart and kind. Despite his health status he always seemed happy. He taught me a lot of things. I learned how to play chess from him, he taught me how to play the piano. He would often take me into their private library, where we would
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spend hours reading and talking about books and things that made me feel smart like Lucas. Then he noticed that I was more keen on books that talked
about designs, mostly jewelry designs.
He asked me about it and that was when I found out that I actually like jewelry
design. Then he got me more books related to it.
Over the years, as we aged older, Lucas grew into an intelligent young man and I found myself seeing him as more than just a friend then I would unconscious- ly catch myself fussing over my looks. I looked forward to seeing him and
spending time with him everyday.
–
By the time I turned sixteen, I was pretty sure I was in love with him and he was into me too I just wasn’t sure how much. At seventeen, Lucas and I shared our first k*ss beneath the bookshelf that was filled with the books about
jewelry design that he had got me over the years.
We were a happy little couple for a while until Lucas‘ health began to deterio- rate. He was always losing consciousness and I got to see him less and less. with each passing day.
Whenever he was rushed to the hospital, I would go to see him. The moment he regained consciousness and his gaze fell on me, he would smile and his first words would always be, “It’s alright.”
I would always nod but I knew it wasn’t alright. My heart hurt for him and I felt. helpless because there was nothing I could do to help or take his pain away.
One day, he lost consciousness again and was rushed to the hospital for the umpteenth time that week. Lucas‘ caretakers stopped anyone from seeing him. (his parents were late, I’d later discovered). No matter how much I begged and cried, the security never allowed me to see him.
I went back to the orphanage, crying. The next day, I was told that someone was looking for me. It turned out to be one of his servants. With a grim smile, she handed me a miniscule box and said, “he left this.”
I had gone ballistic. “What do you mean he left this? Where’s Lucas?!”
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Chapter 49 Chapter Forty Nine
But she only smiled and left.
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That night, I stayed up crying my heart out. I refused to open the box. “I will go to Lucas and he will give me the box himself,” were my thoughts.
When I got to the Villa later that night, I knocked and yelled but no one an-
swered the door. I pushed at the doors; they didn’t even budge.
It felt like I was in a nightmare as I slumped before the front door and wept. That night, I opened the box. Inside the box was a letter revealing the identity of my biological parents and how I would find them. There was also a ch*ck with
enough balance for me to live comfortably for a long time.
I searched the box, hoping there was, atleast, a note from Lucas telling me
what happened or when he’d be back but there was nothing. Just like that, my
friend and love was gone.
I left the orphanage with the box. I didn’t want to go straight to my parents. I still
hoped that I would find Lucas and we would go together like we’ve joked many
times. So I enrolled in a university to study jewelry design. After I got my degree and finished my internship. I followed the address Lucas gave and. went in
search of my parents, only to fall into an arranged marriage to a man I barely
knew.
As I took in Lucas‘ features now, the memories racked me and I felt myself
swallow a sob. His curly hair that I loved to tangle my fingers around were gone. He looked manly and handsome but I could still see the Lucas I loved and grew up with underneath what all the years that had passed had changed
in his features.
To make peace with myself, I had assumed that he had died, yet here he was in
flesh and blood.
“Lucas…” my throat tightened, my voice choked with unbridled emotions.
“Sydney.”
Hearing his voice again, just as I remembered, I freed the caged tears and let them slide down my cheeks as I rushed forward and hugged him tightly, his
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Chapter 49 Chapter Forty Nine
hands instantly wrapped around me.
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