Prologue
HELLO EVERYONE!
Thank you so much for considering my book. It's a romantic comedy, however let me warn you..
Even though I personally consider it a heart-fluttering escape from reality into a complicated yet really cute world full of rich, sexy men, some believe it's a little bit of a cliche and unrealistic.
So read at your own risk, and if you like it please do let me know, vote, comment and recommend.
Also, please check out my other works! You'll absolutely love them!
Prologue:
Her...
"Put your seat belt on please, ma'am." The flight attendant instructed. I did as I was told and looked out of the window beside my seat. The black sky outside reminded me of Matthew's eyes.
God, I've missed him. It's been a tough week for me and being away from him only adds to my anxiety. My father has been sick. We recently discovered that he has a brain tumor, when one day he just collapsed at dinner. He has been in a coma for a week; however, this morning he finally woke up. The doctors assured us that his condition was finally stable now and that even though the tumor is not malignant, they still needed to surgically remove it.
So after the doctors had scheduled the surgery in thirteen days, and as I finally had my dad pull me in one of his bone-crushing hugs that I was so shamelessly addicted to, I decided to get back home to Matthew, since he couldn't join me in the first place because of work.
Even though my father was finally out of his sudden coma and considerably well, I was still on the verge of crying. I had been holding it in for a week and I was feeling so fed up to the point that I almost bawled my eyes out when that rude guy behind me said, "I'm sorry, but I believe this is my seat."
Yes, it turned out to be his seat and I moved to the one ahead. And no, he wasn't rude at all; in fact he even said that with an apologetic smile. But I still wanted to cry loudly like a three year old. That's the thing I hate about myself the most, I guess, that I'm a crybaby. No matter how hard I try to quit being so, crying is the only way I rinse myself from all the stress.
Okay, Hate is a big word. I just wish I had better control over my emotions and wouldn't let the slightest things give me a stupid meltdown. Speaking of, that is also the main thing that I love about my boyfriend, Matthew. He never, ever gets fed up of me crying or makes me feel like I'm too much to handle. He always wraps his arms around me, and stays absolutely silent until I'm done. He lets me be, and I appreciate that.
Although I'm a big fan of crying, I had promised myself long ago to never cry in front of another human being. Until Matthew and I celebrated our six months of being together, and he asked me to move in with him. That night I cried myself to sleep, actually. So now, I don't cry in front of anyone but Matthew. Not my parents or even my best friend Melinda, no one. Why? Well, I hate looking weak and vulnerable in front of anyone and I don't like to show that side of me.
Besides, my mother always used to accuse me of trusting people too fast, and said that it makes me vulnerable enough for them to deceive me. So I thought that if I can't stop trusting people, then at least I have to stop looking too weak in front of them, except with Matthew, of course. It's not like that with him at all. He would never hurt me. Maybe my mother's right. Maybe I am too trusting of people, but isn't that what all relationships are based on? Trust and respect?
I think Matthew and I are just used to each other by now. I'm blessed that I have a guy like him in my life. He's the absolute boyfriend, believe me. He's everything any girl would ever want. He's affectionate; he's sweet; he's kind; he's very good looking; and he's an excellent listener. But the truth is he's safe. I never question anything around him. I never have any doubts regarding where he stands or where I stand. He's also everything I ever wanted in a man.
You know how when you're fourteen and you make up an image of Mr. Perfect in your head, then you start looking for him in real life? Well, he was my Mr. Perfect. Sometimes I find him too sweet and showing too much affection but I guess he just wants to assure me of how much he loves me. But yes, I admit that sometimes I feel like my life with him is safer than I hoped it would be. Sometimes I catch myself thinking what it would be like if something happened that made my heart race a little bit.
I mean, don't get me wrong, there isn't a better feeling in the world than to sleep knowing that you're safe in the arms of your one true love, but sometimes I feel like it's too safe to be true, like something is missing or something is just not right. Yet I would never dare talk to him about it and stir problems myself. It's just not worth it.
I wanted to surprise him that I was coming home three days earlier than planned, but I decided against it and left him a voicemail before boarding, when I remembered our huge fight last month when I came back early from a reunion that my school friends and I had, and how upset with me he was. He was really mad at me that day and told me that he hated surprises and loved for everything to go as planned.
A little weird, yes, but I just thought it was probably one of his bad mood swings or something, and let it slide. Also, that same day, we had a heavy make out session that was supposed to become more but I kind of stopped it, because I wasn't quite ready yet. So I thought maybe he was still mad at me because of that and decided to drop it. He wasn't really mad; he was just confused as to why after nine months of being together, and three months of sharing the same bed, I still couldn't just do it.
Well, I have kept my legs closed all those years for one reason, and one reason only.
Okay, that's bull. I don't actually have a specific reason at all. I wish I had but I don't. It's just that I still can't figure out how exactly I want it. I mean, sometimes I wish my first time to be really sweet, with rose petals on the bed, candles on the nightstands, music in the background, and lazy sweet kisses that would have me melt softly before my man, before he slowly undresses me and makes sweet love to me.
Other times, I wish it to be totally different, more passionate, unplanned, urgent and just unforgettable. I wish it to be full of passionate, hungry kisses that would blow my mind and have me dying for more; to have my toes curl just by feeling my man's mere touch; to see the heat and hunger in his eyes and feel my knees go weak just from the way he looks at me, to have my heart beating so fast and so loudly that I would be afraid he would hear it. A magical, passionate night that he would never let me forget. But above all, I want it to feel right.
Both scenarios are totally different, I know. But the thing is, not once have I imagined Matthew in either of them. Don't get me wrong, I haven't imagined myself having sex with another man, of course not. Yet, I can't imagine doing it with him either. And I can't figure out why, because I honestly do love him. Yet, every time I think of just doing it with him, it doesn't feel right at all. However, I believe it's just a matter of time.
I hadn't noticed when the plane landed except when all the passengers started standing up and exiting the plane. I followed them and after half an hour I finally got my luggage which was two heavy suitcases filled with nothing but dresses and shoes, since I practically stayed at the hospital the entire week. Maybe I had a couple of pajamas somewhere in there.
Also, this was all a failed attempt to please my mother. You see, my mother is the type of woman who doesn't approve of anything in my life. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Not a damn thing. So I had to pack all my good expensive formal dresses that I thought she would like. And she didn't, by the way.
Finally, I got in a cab and was on my way home, beaming with excitement to see Matthew. Once again, I found myself drifting to my thoughts.
Melinda, my best friend, used to think that I wasn't really in love with Matthew. She used to think that I was somehow deceiving myself. But after a while she came around when I convinced her that there's no reason for me to do that to myself. I mean, I'm not desperate for a boyfriend or marriage or anything. I'm only twenty two years old for God's sake. But Matthew, ever since I met him I knew he was different. He's.. Safe.
Getting out of the cab, I paid the nice driver before he helped me take the suitcases out of the trunk. I walked to the front door of our house and dug through my purse for my keys. I finally found them and when I slightly opened the door I heard a woman's moan. I froze where I was standing and my mind couldn't function properly.
It's the television. Maybe he's just watching porn. That's okay. He's a man after all. Porn is.. healthy, in a way. Of course it's the television, so silly of me to think otherwise.
With a heavy breath, I took my keys out of the lock and just when I was about to step into the house I heard Matthew moaning.
THAT cannot be the television, can it? No.
With my heart drumming painfully against my chest and my palms sweating, I ran to our bedroom, only to find Matthew on top of a woman kissing and licking her breasts. A short breath I was holding slipped through my lips and I couldn't control the hold I had on my purse or the keys. They fell to the floor with a thud loud enough for them to stop what they were doing and look my way. I couldn't move my eyes away from them and when the girl suddenly sat properly I saw who she was. Melinda, my one and only true friend.
They both covered themselves fast and gasped when the heat of the room was suddenly replaced with shock and they were finally able to see me. I looked at them and felt sicker to the stomach than I had ever felt in my entire life. A cold shocking chill ran through my whole body and without warning I found myself running to the front door. I grabbed my suitcases which were still outside of the house and ran away.
I kept running absently, trying to drag my heavy suitcases with me without breaking them on the cement pavement. And not once had I heard my name being called. The only thing I could hear was the sound of my own heels hitting the ground louder and louder and the small wheels of my suitcases being dragged. After a few minutes of running in shock I decided it was time for my brain to start thinking. I started to slow down as I took a look around me in the dark neighborhood and saw a bench. I dragged myself to it and sat down.
Breathe. Just breathe. Matthew wouldn't do this to me. Melinda wouldn't do this to me.
I looked around and found no one in the street or maybe even the whole block. It was quiet and dark and only a pole next to me was lighting the bench I was sitting on. I took off my heels and decided to just let go, because I knew I seriously needed to cry.
He cheated on me. They both did. Matthew and Melinda. The closest people to me. The only two I have in this world, actually. How can they do this to me? Do I mean absolutely nothing to both of them?
Maybe they.. maybe they were.. I don't know, drunk? Desperate? I don't know! I just know that they wouldn't do this. They weren't supposed to do this.
Then came that annoying small voice in the back of my head and said, "You know it's for the best."
I shook my head.
You know it wasn't right. It never felt right, and you know it. This is for the best.
"No!" I cried out loud and for what seemed like an hour or so I just kept crying. I cried and cried then remembered that I needed to calm my breath, so I wiped my tears and breathed as deeply and slowly as I possibly could. Then the image of them one my bed suddenly resurfaced and I started crying again, then once more.
I felt the tears wetting my cheeks like never before. I felt the pain as I tried to calm myself down. I felt confused, asking myself how was I so stupid? I felt scared, having absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do now. I felt lost in my own thoughts.
But mainly, I felt purely and utterly alone. I had no one. I had no one to lend me their shoulder to cry on, no one to wipe my tears off, and no one to hold my hand through this. I had no one to advise me and tell me what to do now, no one to support me and no one to try and cheer me up or take my mind off of the disaster that I had just witnessed. I had no one to check up on me and see if I was alright.
I have no one at all.
And with that realization I cried even harder and harder, till I heard someone suddenly talk beside me.
"Are you okay?" A deep masculine voice made me jump off the bench and take a few steps away.
Careful what you wish for, right?
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This story is not about a broken girl sulking over the guy who crushed her heart or any of that! Don't worry, this is actually a very fun story!
However, beware that it's full of cheesy adorable cliches because that's just how i love'em!
(it's getting re-edited as we speak. :D)
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