Chapter 35

Max's POV

"The stars are so beautiful," Priscilla said as she sat next to me, the breeze of the beach was so calm, the strong salty air filling my nose. It was not my intention to come here, but Priscilla wanted to tag along, so I changed my mind. Priscilla sat down on the sand, the seawater brushing her feet. I sat beside her, and both of us left our shoes in the car.

"I know why you wanted to come with me," I told her, my eyes never leaving the water.

"Should I tell you a story?" Priscilla asked. I turned and looked at her briefly before focusing on the sea in front of me.

"Sure," I replied.

"Once there lived a very beautiful and gorgeous singer," Priscilla said. I felt pain in her tone, but I listened quietly to her story. "She was so beautiful that every man in the world was head over heels in love with her and her voice. Every man out there yearned to have her. She was like a goddess on earth. All the men from high status wanted her, but she chose a guy she saw on the street. They met and fell in love. It was just a cute and romantic love story. And they were happy together. After they got married, they had a very beautiful baby girl. Their life was so perfect, just like their love. Though the woman was the one providing for the family, they saw everything as perfect. Until one day when their daughter turned 7. Suddenly, everything changed after the birthday party. The once-loving husband and father started drinking. That's when his life changed, and his too. He started shouting at his wife and daughter. His wife turned into his punching bag. He started cheating on his wife, bringing his mistresses into that house. Everything changed. The wife's career was also ruined, they started running out of money, and the husband couldn't do anything because he was addicted to alcohol and drugs. Years went by, and they were now struggling to even pay school fees for their 13-year-old daughter. She ended up dropping out of school and would watch her father beating her mother up. He even tried to molest her but failed. As years went by, four rich men approached him, offering him a lot of money. Under one condition." Priscilla stopped talking, I could see the glimmer of tears in her eyes under the moonlight. I somehow felt like this story was related to her past. The past she is trying to put behind her.

"What was the condition?" I asked. I wanted to know more about this story because I felt like she was opening up to me about her past under the pretext of telling me the story.

"To have their way with his wife and daughter," Priscilla said. She tried to wipe her tears, but she couldn't as more of them flowed out of her eyes. "The husband accepted the money and brought them to their house... The mother felt that something was wrong, so she hid her daughter in the closet. The men who were brought by her husband molested her. She cried and begged her husband to stop them as they took turns on her, but he was too drunk to stop them or change his decision. The girl was already old enough to know that her mother was being raped, not by 1 but 3 men. She started thinking of what to do to save her mother. Luck was on her side; she found a gun in the closet. She jumped out and shot every man who was in the room. They all died, killed by an angry 15-year-old girl. Not wanting her daughter to be caught by the police, the woman took her daughter and ran away. They started living on the run, but that was not all. The woman was diagnosed with HIV/AIDS and blood cancer too." Priscilla finally finished her story, more tears flowed out of her eyes, but she wiped them away.

"Is this a true story?" I asked. Deep down, something was telling me that this was her story.

Priscilla let out a dry laugh. "Of course, it is not a true story. It is a fictional story I read somewhere, a novel," Priscilla said, lying through her teeth.

"But you said you can't read the other day?" I asked her. I knew that she was lying.

She shifted about, chewing her lips, and shaking a little. "I lied to you because I wanted you to give me the money. Forget about the story, let's focus on the moral of the story," Priscilla said, avoiding the topic completely. I didn't want to force her into anything, so I decided to let it go.

"What is the moral of the story?" I asked, my eyes were on her the whole time, she was pale.

"Drowning your sorrows in alcohol turns you into a monster. Using alcohol as a way to escape reality turns you into a heartless man who lives in a fictional world, who instead of seeing someone else cry, sees them laugh. A man who finds joy in beating up his wife, a man who cares about nothing but making sure that he has a bottle of alcohol in his hand without caring about how he got it," Priscilla said.

"Max, I never want to see you turning into that monster. I want you to be a good father to your children and give them the happy life and childhood that they deserve. Your parents have raised you into the man you are right now with love, care, and respect. The reason why you respect women like Nelly, even after all the bad things they have done to you. I want you to be that man for your kids, to make sure they turn into the man you are right now. I would rather have you vent your anger on me, not on alcohol and ruin three lives all at once because of someone who doesn't care. You are a successful businessman, a wise and kind-hearted man. I don't want any woman to bring you down," Priscilla added.

I knew what she was saying was the truth, and I simply can't promise anything because every time I see Nelly, I feel so angry and hurt I can't control myself. I would rather drink my anger and vent my anger on alcohol than cause harm to anyone.

"Do you suddenly care about me now?" I asked, trying to change the topic just like she did.

"Before I met you, I always thought that all men were pieces of trash and that they were all cheaters and cold-hearted. But after meeting you and realizing what Nelly put you through, I started caring about you because I now know that even we women can also be pieces of trash," Priscilla said, her tone filled with sincerity. I felt a heat that radiated through my chest. Only my Grandma cared about me this much. Only she could bring me to the right path. I thought that now that she was no more, I was left with only Liz, which turned out to be wrong. I don't know what is happening in Priscilla's head right now, but I know she genuinely cares about me.

"You are a nice person, Priscilla. I really appreciate you being in my life and caring about me. Your future husband will be lucky to have you," I said. I don't know why I felt a burning sensation in my chest at the thought of Priscilla's future husband, but I quickly brushed it away.

"I don't believe in fairy tales," Priscilla murmured calmly.

I frowned. What does a husband have to do with a fairy tale? This isn't the first time she has said this, if I'm not wrong.

"What does a fairy tale have to do with your future husband?" I couldn't help but ask.

"I mean, love, marriage, perfect husband. It all exists in fairy tales. In real life, there's no happily ever after. Only sorrow ever after. I don't want to get married or be in any relationship. The only goal I have right now is to work on myself. I want to love myself and make myself happy. I never want to rely on someone to make me happy, and I don't want to depend on anyone financially or with anything. I want to rely on and depend on myself. I want to do everything by myself so that my heart will never break. I will be happy ever after, alone," Priscilla said, her tone filled with determination.

I smiled. I love the way Priscilla thinks. I admire the way she thinks; she is just 20 but she thinks bigger than her age.