THE MATE

ROWAN.

“Mate?” Lisa asks in confusion. “You are sure that is what she said. Mate?”

“You repeating the word over and over again, is not going to change what I heard,” I drolly reply as I recline on the pillow. “She said mate.”

“And did she say anything else?” she asks as she continues pacing the length of my bedroom.

“No,” I answer as I close my eyes. “And can you stop pacing, you are making me dizzy.”

“I think this is wonderful,” Rina pipes up as she strokes Jhenelle’s hair.

She is sleeping on her lap, as we gathered in my room, our unofficial meeting room as Lisa likes to say.

It is… rustic in a way. Nothing too over the top.

It is a simple, charming room but with a touch of elegance. At one end of the wall, there is a sturdy, dark wood dresser with a mirror above it, reflecting the room back to me. Its surface is neat, with just a few essentials like a hairbrush, some makeup and a small jewelry box.

Directly facing it is the bed whose headboard is a classic piece, with intricate ca