The City Life Meets Her Calm

I have been worried for a long time about how good I am for someone I want to be with. Would I be enough for him, my mind would ask, and would he accept me for who I am?

I had realised that no one would want me, so I shunned everyone, feeling like Ebenezer Scrooge every day.

I dedicated all my time to working, and when I am not working, I am home, alone in my bed, occupying myself.

Not only that, but I had a failed engagement, and I knew it was a mistake to be engaged to a man whom I did not find attractive. I did it out of security. Ultimately, it was not what he wanted, and he spoke up first. I stood quietly watching him talk, knowing I should have said something to make him stay, but selfishly, I knew I did not want him to stay. He was unhappy, and I tolerated him. We both worked, but we wanted different things. Our tastes were completely out of sync, even though we lived together. We rarely spent time together, and when we did, work always took precedence over conversation.

The moment he told me we needed to talk, I knew this was the end. He couldn't handle it anymore, and I was ready to let him be happy.

“Elena, you're beautiful and empowering, but you're too occupied in your head to see what's around you. I love you, but I can't go through with marrying you. I am sorry.”

I stood there momentarily to process what I would say to him. Although I was ready to let him go, I was still hurt. I hadn't realised the tears were falling until he wiped them away. The most I could have done for him was look him in the face. It was something painful I had to do, I realised.

“Patrick, I got engaged to you because I was scared I was never going to find someone to love me, but I was selfish because I did not love you to begin with. I am terrible for saying such a thing, but I regarded you more like a protector than a lover, or a husband. I am selfish to have held on to you for so long. Please forgive me.”

“Oh Elena, you're hurting so much inside, wondering if you were good enough for me, and I tried to show you how much I appreciate you, but you only saw pity. You have so much love to give, and I hope you find someone who you can love like I once did.”

“God, Pat, I wasn't supposed to cry. I guess with all that's happened, I am emotionally drained. Forget this, and get on that plane and do your best at your promotion. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, love. I'll miss you.”

“Good, 'cause I'll miss you too.”

I eventually moved back to my hometown, a small place in Alabama, to find what I truly wanted for myself. Elena Wilson, a renowned lawyer and a terrible relationship keeper—what a title to rest aside my name.

After neglecting my parents for almost three years and telling them about my broken engagement, to say they were disappointed was an understatement.

After an earful, my father asked me what I wanted, and his shaking head showed that my answer disappointed him even more.

My mother was silent, but she pulled me aside and asked what was wrong later on. I told her everything, but she understood my decision and told me to find a place to start working. Their house was small, with one bedroom for me, but not many workspaces for my equipment and computer. I had to get a place for that in town.

When I pulled into the café's car park, I bumped someone with my door as I was about to open it. I heard the groan and then swearing. My nose scrunched up at the whispered swearing, but I tried to hide it by sniffing.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry, mister. Are you alright?” I asked the man with his back to me. His shoulders were broad, his dark hair covered his neck thickly, and he was hunched over, probably holding his arm.

“Who're you calling, mister, lady?” said a strained voice, and then the person turned around. His face was not an older man, which I had expected. He looked younger, handsome, and familiar. Damn, who could this be, my mind buzzed with interest. Staring at him too long had him furrowing his eyebrows, and with a twisted mouth, he looked displeased with my lack of an immediate answer.

I snapped at him quickly, watching his face contort into something I couldn't quite place. “I don't intend to call you boy. What's your deal, anyway?”

He smacked his lips and licked them thoughtfully, then said, gritting out his words, “My deal is that you hit me with your door. Apologize.”

This guy seriously had to be pulling my strings.

“Are you doing this? I already apologized,” I said, stomping my foot to get something off it. The sand and dirt were doing hell to my shoes right now. They are never going to be the same.

He looked at me up and down twice, then finally, when I lowered my gaze from the heating sun, I saw him crouching down to see my face. He paused momentarily and straightened up from my face, saying, “You look familiar. Do I know you?”

I pulled a face, rolled my eyes, and folded my arms. Bracing myself for some elaborate story, which I am sure he will get wrong, I waited to rub it in his face.

“You're Wilson's daughter, aren't you? Yeah, I remember you. You're all grown up.”

I didn't like the way he said that. He smirked, knowing very well what I was thinking, and I wanted to burst his little cocky bubble.

“I'm sorry. I don't know you.”

Looking around, I tried moving around him to go into the café. The sun was killer on the eyes, and the handsome man who triggered a nerve in me wasn't helping. I might as well combust. This man is infuriating.

“You wouldn't remember, but your sassy attitude didn't leave you. I'm Michael Forrester. We went to high school together.”

At this, I walked away from my car, leaving him standing there. If he were the Michael Forrester I remembered from high school, I would be doing the right thing by walking away. He was nothing but trouble back then, and I won't put it past him right now.

“See you around, Elena Wilson,” came a distant shout behind me.

Ignoring him, I headed straight to the café's manager to discuss what I had come here for: office space for rent.

Mr. Carson was polite, and he remembered me and said I looked pretty, but the office space was occupied by someone already. He told me there was a fixer-upper who fixed up a modern place and would be suitable for me to rent there, seeing I had a lot of stuff coming in.

Thanking him, I got out, scanning to see the devil again. He disappeared, which I thanked God for, and walked over to the place. It was big, looked reasonably furnished from the outside, and newer than I thought. I smiled, knowing it would do quite well since I was already itching to get to work. I went up and knocked on the closed door, hoping someone would be inside to show me around.

After sticking around for two minutes with no response, I headed back to the café. I ordered something to go and drove back home.

“Hi, Dad. Where are you going with that?” I saw Dad was moving some tools around, shovels, trowels, and a hose.

“I was thinking of getting the garden going. Are you going to help me?”

“Okay, let me change, and I will be right down.”

“Take your time, the sun is turning,” he shouted before I got to the front door.

I got changed, and as I was about to go down, I heard Mom and Dad talking.

“I don't want you to tell her anything. She is hurting, and you can't be hard on her right now.”

I knew Mom was grilling Dad about the way he talked to me, but it wasn't so bad. It was one of the reasons I was such a hard ass.

“Mom, it's fine. I have lived with it most of my life. I'll be outside bringing out the fertilizer. Dad, do you want the trowels?”

“Honey, you don't have to do that,” Mom called out, “You only came back today. You should be resting.”

“Don't worry. A little hard work won't hurt me. Besides, the place is getting cool, it might rain tonight.” I said, looking at Dad, seeing his proud self hiding behind his hard eyes.

“So, city life didn't water your country down, I see,” he replied gruffly, clearing his throat.

“I had a garden going back in the city, Dad. I love taking care of them. When I am not working, I am elbows deep in the dirt.”

“Then you're doing it wrong. You're supposed to be wearing gloves.”

I watched his straight face, and then he cracked a smile, and I couldn't hold it in any longer.

We got the beds going in no time, and as I suspected, thunder clapped as we cleared things up, cleaned the tools, and washed up.

I thought to myself, this was going to be a peaceful night. Yet, while I lay in bed, someone came through my mind like a lightning bolt. Michael Forrester.