The Truth About Whatever…

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What is truth? When Aika married Dane she meant every one of her vows but she never stopped loving Elliott, she never stopped wanting Elliott… Is there truth?

Age Rating:


I saw this photo, it’s called Young Love, and it’s by Kimber84 on deviantART.

Every time I look at it, I think of you. Every time I look at it, the selfishness and desire that only you inspire takes over me.

I watch weird Indie movies, where people are naked and in love but so very confused because that is me.

Naked. In love. Confused.

I will burn this note after I end it, just like all the others I have written to you before.

Because I am strong and I am over it, all of it and no one must know that I still love you, want you, miss you...

The first time it happened she felt the sweetest De Ja Vu. There is no way that she had been here before and yet it was as familiar as breathing. Elliott planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Come back” he whispers.

She looked into his eyes and smiled as a mischievous thought came to her mind.

“What?” He questioned raising his left eyebrow.

Aika giggled then.

The thoughts in her head made her dizzy with silliness.

“I hope it wasn’t disappointing.” she says smiling.

He grins and rolls over, on top of her, pinning her down.

“Now why would it be disappointing Jones” He says.

She smiles, knowing he is purposely referring to her by her maiden name.

“Well... you have waited so long Mr. Pope.” Aiko says running her fingers up and down his forearms.

“The first time we kissed you were just 16 years old. You’re 29 now... that’s a long time.” She says not breaking eye contact.

His face suddenly turns serious.

“I wish I had waited for you, I wish we had both waited. I wish... ” His voice breaks and Aika pulls him to her.

She presses her face against his chest and hopes against hope that he doesn’t expect her to feel the same.

Why are men so? Why must it always be all or nothing?

She didn’t wish that she had waited for him; she didn’t regret her marriage or her children.

“I know you don’t feel the same Aika.” He says into her hair.

She inhales sharply.

How does he still get it right to read her mind?

“I just want you to know that I regret letting you go. I really do.” She looks up from his chest and stares into his eyes. Oh Lord, what have I done? How will I ever fix this? Her soul prayed.

She bit back tears, because she knew that she is not worthy.

The girl who used to cry, the girl who was all about hearts and flowers died the moment she decided to be with Elliott.

This new girl she enjoys, she lives but she does not cry. Not now and not ever again

She kissed him then. Like she was sixteen years old again and allowed herself to forget everything and everyone else. All she had was her body and his and all she had was this moment, this kiss and this love.


The shrilling telephone interrupts her thoughts.

She looks at the screen and smiles.


“Good day Mr. Pope.” She answers.

“What happened? Where did you go? “He asks in a rushed breath.

She should have expected this but she still feels off balance.

She is reminded in this moment of his possessiveness.

Yet another reason why this is a bad idea.

She sighs, “I couldn’t stay Elliott, it wouldn’t be right.” “Right?” He exclaims, “What about this is right? Aren’t you doing it because it’s wrong?” He asks.

She chooses to ignore the fact he was excluding himself from any wrongdoing.

“As Always” she thought wryly.

“We can’t wake up together.” She says slowly and takes a deep breath before saying “You are not my husband.” She closes her eyes as she pictures the hurt look on his face at that comment. She doesn’t want to hurt him but she knows she must.

There simply is no other way.

She starts counting in her head, “1, 2, 3, 4” “I know I am not your bloody husband,” he says through gritted teeth clearly exasperated.

Gosh, she thinks.

His temper hasn’t improved, in fact it is worse. She used to be able to count until 9 at least.

“Good, then stop arguing with me as though I am your wife.” she replies.

She savours the stunned silence on the other end of the line.

“So how are the plans for the Mabeni house going?” She asks.

She could almost see the mental wrestling between his ego and his love for his work. Thankfully his love for architecture wins over and he proceeds to explain in detail how fantastic the latest house he was creating was going to look.

Elliot Pope was an architect and landscaper with a small but very profitable company simply named ELLIOTT P.

Creativity was one of the few things they had in common, she drew paintings and he drew homes. She smiled as he described side doors and balconies, in his element.

She loved him. That she was not too cowardly to admit. She however loved her husband more and in that her dilemma lay...

She pictures a place where there are no dilemmas, no choices between a rock and a hard place.

She pictures herself somewhere peaceful and quiet.

“Aika! Aika!” she hears Elliott’s voice urgently in her ear.

“Oh sorry Ell, what were you saying?” She says hastily.

He is quiet for a minute. “Where do you go?” He asked.

She grimaces but doesn’t answer.

The question of her life,

Where does Aika go when she daydreams?”

She has been asked this question so many times and in so many ways but she cannot answer.

Not because she doesn’t know but because her answer wouldn’t be acceptable much less understood.

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