Chapter 37: The Biggest Secret

"Are you hungry? Shall we have something?" I asked Jonathan.

"Good idea!" he said. I stood up, when I looked down at him, he was rubbing his arm.

He took me to a cake shop and bought a good chunk of cream cake for us. When we had finished the dessert, he asked me, "Why do you like such awful stuff?"

"I hate it, but you prepare it every day!" I finally told him. Then, we looked at each other with a smile, pushing the leftover cake aside.

He wiped the cream off my lips with his fingers, as he used to do. In the past, I felt nothing. Today, suddenly I felt my lips throbbing but recovered after I used my hands to massage my lips for some time.

What's your favorite food?" he asked.

"I... "After I drank a mouthful of peach juice, I answered, "I like the pasta you cook for me!"

"Good!" He couldn't wait to take me home, and he went down to the kitchen and cooked a bowl of delicious pasta for me.

That's the most delicious thing I've ever eaten, and I finished it off. He sat next to me and watched me finish it, then asked, "Is it delicious?"

"The best I've ever tasted! I can't believe you can cook," I told him.

"When I was young, my father always gambled, and my mother had to work in the workshop very early, she had no time to attend to me, so I am used to cooking," I said.

"This is the only thing I can cook. If you like, I'll make it for you every day," he said.

"No!" I licked the fork clean and told him that once was enough.

"Well... " He held me in his arms and whispered close to my ear, "When will you allow me to enjoy a wonderful thing?"

"What do you want?" I asked.

"What do you say?" He stroked my body, his hands sliding from my shoulder to my thigh slowly. "Let me have a try, I have been waiting for this day for a long time."

As his fingers rubbed against my legs, my knees began to soften, and my body became so weak. "There are still a few days left before your eighteenth birthday. Would you like the most unforgettable birthday, let me celebrate it to show that you have grown up?"

"Grown-up," I said. He stressed it so hard that I knew the meaning, as innocent as I was.

Though I was expecting something, I said, "No." Although I had little expectation in heart, I pushed him away and refused it shyly, "No."

"When a woman refuses, it has the opposite meaning, in fact," Jonathan said.

Then I pushed him away and ran upstairs. Lying in bed to recollect the day, I felt delighted, smiling secretly. What was love? People who hadn't experienced it would not understand the infatuated feelings.

On my 18th birthday, he did give me the most unforgettable birthday. It was a beautiful day, with white clouds and blue sky. He took me to the piano teacher's door and hugged me and kissed me. "I'm going to be late, " I said.

"Then go upstairs and I'll go to the office. Call me when you're done, I'll take you to a special place to celebrate your adulthood," he said.

I smiled shyly, "Well!"

When I was about to get out of the car, he took me by the hand again with a wicked smile. "I have a white silk scarf for you," he said.

A white, silk scarf. I curled up in his chest, I drew a circle with my fingers. "Do you intend to tie me down?" I asked

"As you like," he replied.

"Really?" I smiled and kissed his face. Imitating his tone, I whispered in his ear: "It must be extremely exciting binding you to the bed and watching you beg me!"

He shivered and held my body with his arms, "Don't play the piano. Let's go now."

He was about to speak when his cell phone suddenly rang. "Where are you?" Troy's voice was a little anxious.

"At the piano studio with Desiree, what's the matter?" he wanted to know.

" It is very crucial, we must meet and talk!" Troy insisted.

"Where are you?" Jonathan asked him.

"At your house, " Troy said.

I got off the bus, a little disappointed. The car started, and he waved at me through the window. When I waved my hands, I grinned. I was completely absent-minded, not knowing what I was doing in the piano class.

After playing a song, I peeked at the teacher, waiting for criticism. "Well done! Your melody is filled with sweetness and anticipation, and passion," she said. After the praise, my teacher showed a slight concern, "Desiree, are you in love?"

There was no way to hide emotions in music. I nodded honestly.

"You are still young, don't expect too much from love," she said.

"Oh!" I knew what she meant. She had been alone, in her fifties. Her music was always sentimental, and she must have experienced a failed relationship.

She sighed and patted me on the shoulder, sitting in the chair next to me, "I had a student once, who was as innocent as you, expecting poetic and pure love. She always said that if her lover could take her to see the sea of blood-red flowers, she would die for him!

The sea of blood-red flowers! Yes, fantastic flowers!

"By coincidence, she has the same name as you, but her last name is Smith, Desiree Smith," she said. I froze. Desiree Smith was a poetic girl, who could play the piano.

"She was very talented, and I had great expectations that she would…Unfortunately, she committed suicide for the man, only twenty years old. Therefore, you'd better…"

Her name was buzzing in my mind. I suddenly remembered the last letter! That girl wanted to hear the words, I love you! She yearned for a romantic date, a movie, a sea of bright, red flowers, and hoped that he would remember her birthday and her name.

It was the reason that he gave me her name. He took good care of me and caressed me so tenderly. He wanted me to develop my piano skills when I was nine years old. It turned out that he had always seen me as her, and I was just a substitute. He made all her wishes come true through me. "No! No!" I shouted and ran down the stairs despite the loud call from my teacher.