For My Heart to Heal!

Being divorced came in with a fortune for me. Especially because of my ex-husband Martin was a millionaire. He had left behind a huge empty mansion for me. Along with an empty heart...I knew he was cheating on me. And what could have been more disturbing then the truth being unfolded in front of your eyes? It had been more than 6 months and I still remember every moment of that night and the way we had fought. What followed were days and days of weeping, lamenting in front of my mom and abusing him. All for no good!

To be frank, I was quite sick of the daily fights. And hence, was enjoying my new found freedom. I had everything that any person would ask for. A good job, a huge house, parents. Everything and everyone, but a companion. It would be wrong if I would say that I didn't want one. But was it for falling in love again? Or healing my heart? I didn't know. I was working as a journalist in a firm. Days passed as I kept searching for a miracle to change my life.

One fine day, I was working at my desk engrossed in latest news that I had received. It was about the increasing importance of fencing services due to to the recent outburst of burglaries happening in the different areas of the U.K. “Sarah, we have someone at the studio. I want you to interview him and provide us with an excerpt of the interview. Fast.” said my boss. I hated this word. “Fast”. My boss always wanted everything fast. How on the earth can it be expected from a journalist who is trying to make her stories interesting and creative!? “Who is it that I have to interview? You should have at least given me some time to finish my current story.” I miffed. “Sorry darling, we have to cover this story. He owns a company in Essex. It is one of the biggest kitchen suppliers.” “So?” I questioned. “So, the company has been recently awarded for its quality of work and that is why we have to make it into a biggest piece of news. Now no more questions darling, just do it!” said my boss Emily as she left. “Good for nothing self-obsessed opportunists.” I murmured to myself as I walked towards one of the cabins. As I jolted open the door, I saw a guy in his mid-thirties sitting on the chair. He was quite an average looking man and was wearing a blue, well-fitted tuxedo with midnight sheen. It made him look very presentable and professional.

There was something about him that made me a bit nervous. But when he smiled, I felt much better. “Hello Sarah! Have heard a lot about you from Emily.” “Oh yes. Me too sir.” “You can call me Patrick.” He said promptly. “Okay Patrick. So let's have a short interview.” “Sure.” He said. One by one, I started bombarding him with questions and he answered each of them with a lot of interest, intelligence and wit. His calmness struck me the most. He looked as calm as the sky on the day after a storm. “Thanks Patrick. It was very nice talking to you.” I said. “It was my pleasure indeed.” he said in his deep voice. “Ahh...here's my card. If you or anyone else needs to revamp their kitchen.” “Of course, why not!” said I and accepted his card with reluctance. 'Patrick Harvey, CEO, Colonial Kitchens’ it read. He left and the day ended as it had to.

After a week or so, my mother called me and started complaining to me about the old steel racking in the kitchen which was troubling her. “I am sick of the old kitchen furniture and drainage. They are troubling me.” She said. “In fact I want to revamp the entire house. But as I spend most of the time in the kitchen, I would rather go for enhancing that first.” “Okay Mom. Calm down.” I said and without any further delay, I gave her Patrick's number. “And please talk to him nicely. He is the CEO of one the biggest kitchen revamping firms in Essex.” “Are you insane Sarah? Your dad has retired and we are not as rich as you to be able to afford services from such an expensive firm. I will have to sell off my jewellery for cash, if I want to get services from such a huge firm.”

“Mom pleases. Don't talk rubbish. Though it is one of the best firms, they provide services at quite cost-effective rates.” I said. After an hour or so, she called back. “Oh Sarah, I am so thankful to you for giving me Mr. Harvey's number. He immediately recollected being interviewed by you as soon as I gave him your reference. And he was very polite and well-mannered. His company also offers discounts. He said he himself will come to our place to take a survey around the place.” When my mom spoke, there was no full stop to her prolonged description. “Okay Mom. But make sure... “Okay Sarah, I have to go. 

The waste disposal company staff is here. I had called them for cesspool emptying.” And she put down the receiver before I could say anything further. I called Patrick to thank him. At the end of our conversation, I invited him for dinner to discuss about the kitchen revamping plans of my mom's place. He accepted it and I anticipated the day.

I cooked at the best of my abilities. And for the first time after so many months I dressed up to look beautiful. At 8 pm, the doorbell rang. It was him. I had never seen him in this avatar. A loosened red coloured t-shirt, a cashmere sweater and black jeans. “Look at that, you could almost pass for a bachelor. I remarked as he entered.” “Really? Thanks.” He said with a grin. “You have a beautiful house I must say.” “Is that Picasso? He asked as he started admiring one of the paintings on the hallway walls.” “Yes. It is.” I said.

“These bronzes are lovely too.” he said. “They must have been crafted by UK sculptors.” “Hmm..it seems you are an artifact lover.” I said. “Dylan bought them.” “Dylan?” he questioned. “My ex-husband.” I said. He could understand the discomfort in my voice.” “Oh I am so sorry. Are you...” “Divorced. Yes” I said before he could complete his question. “Well, everyone has their own story Sarah. Life is full of surprises. My wife passed away before 2 years in an accident. We had dreams, aspirations and zeal to achieve everything we hadn't.” He said.

Patrick and I had met to discuss kitchen plans but the conversation was leading us to a different path that night. With a glass of champagnes in our hands, we spoke our hearts out to each other. Without any intentions, of course. He had a dulcet tone which was embracing the air in my house like the perfume of night flowers. The next day when he left, I felt lonelier than ever before. I am waiting...For my heart to heal and his, to open up. Someday may be.