The agonies of curiosity languished Jacob, Ed, Thui, and Tim. Jacob's hands fell loose on each side of his body, as though he was to be put in death at any moment. He knew that he had told the truth. It was Tim, who got up, hugged Rosa, and made her to sit next to him. Her face, like her name, was rosy color. Nothing can be read in her dreamy eyes.
"Are you okay? Did you talk to your mother?" Tim quizzed her.
"I'm fine. And yes, I did talk to my mother." Her voice was harsh and shaky.
Diana sank into the armchair, holding her head with her hands. Jacob wanted to go to her, to kneel in front of her, and to beg her for normality. But he continued sitting on his chair.
"What did your mother say?" Thui was dying to know the story.
"She unveiled twenty seven years of lies. Jacob's story is absolutely correct. My mother has lied to me all my life. To night I lost my mother to gain a father; but I am not sure if I can forgive him for abandoning me!"
"But you heard the story. Your mother left him no choice," Ed said, as though involuntarily, as though talking to himself.
"You're all fool. Some of you are fool with heart and no mind, and some of you are fool with mind and no heart. Jacob is a fool, too. He is a fool with heart and no mind. What he did to me, his own child, and then to his wife, by not telling her, is not acceptable. Now all of us are unhappy, all of us suffer." Rosa concluded abruptly. She blushed as if suddenly realizing of the kind of people she was speaking to.
Jacob thought that now both women are against her, even though his story turned out to be true.
"Listen, Rosa, I've never forgiven myself for this. Both of us have been the victim of Ellen's vendetta against men. I should have searched more, I admit to that." Jacob said with reluctance.
Rosa was thinking deep. Diana was so quiet that one might think that she was even dead. The entire room was filled with an unbelievable hush. The breeze that came through the open window did not sooth the aching skin of these weary people. Jacob was beginning to feel this intense love for this young woman. He had this urge, need, even the urgency to hug this beautiful woman to eternity; and somehow to make up for the lost times. However, he was not sure how she would react; and he was not certain if she should show this sudden affection to his daughter in Diana's presence.
"Can you guys just make up. I think what happened tonight requires celebration. Let's forget about who did what, let's start afresh." Ed Said with an unusual animation. His eyes flashing. What a simpleton he was?
An incredible inner light suddenly overwhelmed Jacob's soul. He, who a minute ago was physically and emotionally worn out, depresses, and shattered, unexpectedly was enchanted by Rosa's angelic face. He looked at her illusory eyes, those delicate eyes that no one could determine the color of them, noticeably shivering with enthusiasm and fervor, and at her face which glowed with inspiration. "No, I can't let go of this again." He thought to himself. His face was pale, twitching slightly. It seemed as though something was bewitching him.
"Why don't you all make up. This has been an interesting evening!" Tim's face wreathed in smile; nonetheless, he spoke as he thought. He truly wanted a good and happy ending to all these even if it was for only a short while.
The tender smile of Rosa's face, however, did not suit her at that moment. It seemed as if that smile had become unattached and unsecured; and she could not fasten it together as hard as she tried.
"Rosa," Jacob paused, as though was not sure how to continue. What he wanted to say was:
Rosa, I've never forgotten about you. I've always carried you in my heart. You read "TWILIGHT", that book was for you. I secretly dedicated that book to you." He said all these in his speaking mind, almost to himself, as if replying to some internal urge, or mysterious thought of his own.
"I can't distinguish your love from hatred." Rosa said in half whisper. "Tonight I ruined your tranquil life, marriage, and you must hate me now."
Jacob finally got up, paced the room for awhile, and then did what he was yearning to do. He sat on the floor, right in front of Rosa and hugged her legs. Then he put his head on her lap and sobbed. It was a thrilling scene. Men were holding their tears while The three women cried openly and loud. Women had always known how to show their emotions.
Rosa was trembling. Tim was holding her shoulder to stop her from that, while Jacob's head was still on her lap, and he was crying hard and loud. Involuntarily, her hand touched Jacob's head and then slowly she ran it through his hair and neck. He raised his head and their eyes met. She eased down from her sofa to the floor, and there, for the first time, the father and daughter embraced each other.
"Allow me to love you." Jacob murmured, his head was hidden on her shoulder.
"I can't love you if there is no hope!" She reflected.
"Right now, you've given me a glimpse of a real life, something I agonized for twenty seven years; and then you tell me to go on living in a false life. No one can endure this..." Jacob appealed. He was watching every transient change on Rosa's expression now that they were looking at each other, holding hands.
"I am enduring it." She retorted.
"I know you have every right to detest me. Perhaps you have pity on me; and I am certain that your pity is more powerful than your love." He got up and went back to his chair.
Rosa sank back into her seat, reflecting. She seemed wanting to say more but stuttered in a forlorn and futile gloominess.
"Come on you guys, let's move on." Ed interfered with others' thoughts.
"I don't know what to make of all these! what should I call you now, dad, Jacob, or...?" Rosa said, as if talking to herself.
"Call me anything you want. Just let me have a relation with you now that I found you. You were robbed from me by your mother, so I couldn't be your dad, let me be your friend now." Jacob pleaded both with his words and his eyes. His gaze was exceptionally unusual. He seemed to look at Rosa as he was looking at a thing too far away from him, or at a picture of her, a picture that he had created in his heart for all these years. That image of his lost daughter that he had actualized in his heart had filled him all these years with the agony of spare; he had pitied himself all these years.
To Be continued
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