The Day She Fell in Love~ Part 4

Miranda wasn’t one of those “tie me down” type of girls. Although the next few months with Rich was a whirlwind, she still had her own life that took the forefront of her thoughts. She’d awake in the morning having coffee with her mom before flying in to work. She worked hard each day at a resort she had worked at since she was fourteen. She bounced between being a housekeeper and a kitchen aide. Working harder than anyone in the establishment, eager to gain the title of full time housekeeper that would give her a nine dollar an hour pay.

Anytime anyone called in sick, they would call Miranda first to cover their shift. She was always willing to. Always ready to ensure what needed done was done. After work Miranda would hang out with friends, help her mom around the house. Most nights she was up far later than she should have been, either waiting for her mom to call needing a ride home from the bar or waiting to pick up Rich after his shift ended. Rich stayed many nights with Miranda. She would leave late at night, driving to his dad’s house to retrieve him. As the sun dawned the next morning she’d be dropping him off at his work site.

The lack of sleep never bothered Miranda. It never even crossed her mind all that she was sacrificing for others; for her mom, her boss, Rich. That was just who she was, what she did.

Rich told her once that she was amazing for picking him up so late at night just to take him to work a few hours later, but Miranda thought his compliment was undeserving. It was like thanking someone for breathing. What else was she supposed to do? Not have the feelings that embraced her when he was around, not breathe? And Rich was so good to her. He brought her a dozen roses that decorated her dresser for over a month as she waited for the very last pedal to fall to the floor before throwing them away. He took her out to dinner, in real restaurants. None of the McDonald’s establishments that John had taken her to.

Before long Rich’s work moved him out of town and Miranda was left with only the weekends to spend with him.  He had quickly given Miranda keys to his home, to water his plants while he was out of town. Little did Rich know that she killed his plants every week. She would water them with all of her love, and they would wither and die. Giving up, she would put them outside on his back deck and by the time Rich came home on the weekend they were blooming beautifully again.

It took Miranda over two months to take up Rich’s invitation to move in with him. It was a beautiful home, she couldn’t deny that. But homes were not what she was after, nor was she after his car or his money. It’s not that she didn’t want to live with Rich, there just wasn’t much reason to. His house was far away from her home, her friends, her life. She had a bed to lay in at night and was perfectly happy where she was. She admired him for having the things in life that he did, but those things weren’t what Miranda wanted. Although she didn’t know it, Miranda just wanted him.

As relationships usually go, she reached the point where she wanted to be closer to him. Besides, as he said, it would save so much gas having to water those plants of his. So she moved away from her mom, and her friends, and her home. She moved away from her life, and began one with Rich.

Within moments, Rich was whispering in her ear about his grandmothers ring. Before she knew it the ring was on her finger, she was his for the world to know. But the rumors had already made their way back to Miranda by then. The ex girlfriend that cried how she had stolen him from her. The history of cocaine use. The playboy record he held.

The first weekend living in Rich’s home, Miranda sat in his lazy boy as his ex girlfriend retrieved the rest of her belongings. As Miranda sat, noticing how Rich had conveniently shut all the blinds before her arrival, never allowing her to come in the home, she wondered if they had in fact been dating the weekend of that football game so many months before. If she had stolen Rich from her, how easily could someone else steal Rich again, without ever knowing he was taken. She wondered how many other girls wore his grandmothers ring on their fingers. Did they all have to have it resized?

Miranda professed these fears to Rich, of course not in a very mature way, she was only nineteen. He assured her again and again that his ex was just a crazy bitch, and for a moment, Miranda was appeased. But the distance between Miranda and Rich grew further and further apart. Within months Rich’s eyes didn’t turn that warm, deep, green any more when he looked at her. He would push her away in favor of a television show, go to the bar or his dad’s or his friends in favor of being with her. All week Miranda would sit home in Rich’s house while he was out of town, missing him. She would endlessly clean and mow his grass and do anything to distract herself from the ache she felt when he was not around.

But before long, she began to feel that same ache when he was there.

Miranda didn’t know what to do. She had never felt this way about anyone before. She never feared they were cheating on her, never worried they didn’t want to be with her, never knew that they were moving on without her. She didn’t care before. John had left her all the time with other girls and it never bothered her, she just didn’t care. But with Rich, with Rich it was so much different. The more he distanced himself, the more it destroyed Miranda.

She did everything she could think to do. She flung herself at him in the skimpiest lingerie she had. She slaved over delicious meals. Meals that were long since burned by the time Rich would come home from wherever he had roamed. Finally, she got desperate. Things were going in the wrong direction and she needed to change them. She would do everything to change them. Anything to change them.

One fateful weekend everything between Miranda and Rich did change, for so much longer than she ever wanted….



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