This novel is limited to 100 free copies due to its part in Inkitt’s Novel Contest.
I didn’t think I’d ever do this. That I’d ever go and see him. A part of me still questions whether it’s a good idea. It would always be risky, but isn’t everything? I could just go by thinking everything is what it is. That I don’t need this break from reality. But, I know him. I know he’s incredibly good to me. There was a time when I took too many risks. Now, I’m sat in front of Chris and telling him I’ll be fine, that I’ll be careful.
“Can’t I just come with you?” he questions me, his cup of tea almost shaking out from his grasp. His blue eyes, the worlds I fell in love with six years ago, stare down at the boiling hot liquid, precarious that it should spill in his fragile hands.
“How can you come with me and look after your patients?” I tilt my head to the side. “Don’t worry, I’ve known him for years. He’s a good friend. He even sorted out my flight; paid for everything. Don’t worry about me.” His face seems to drop with every word I utter. I bite my lip and take his cup from his hands, placing it on the table. Then, grabbing his wrists, I hold them tightly, leaning forward, crouched, to look straight at him. I lift his chin with a single hand. “Darling, look at me.” Placing it back on his arm, built to my ideal perfection, I look into his eyes and continue, “I’m going to really miss you baby. It’s only for a few months. I’ll be right back home and spending time with you as soon as my writing picks up.”
His eyes begin to water slightly and his lips part almost by instinct. I close my eyes as I lean forward and he places a kiss upon my lips. His left hand travels up my arm and over my shoulder, brushing across my shoulder blade to divert and manoeuvre to the back of my neck. I continue to kiss him as I slowly move to sit next to him on the sofa he occupies.
As his teeth gently pierce my bottom lip, a conservative moan escapes through the sound of my breath. I hold his jaw in place and push my lips back against his, tilting my head to the opposing side. His hand runs over my inner thigh, caressing my soft skin. Before long, he pulls away and my eyes open to see his face once again.
I want him back again, leaving me wanting more and more every time. I want his sweet lips back with me so I can taste their soft touch and the breath that warms my skin. My stomach receives a burst of a sensational feeling as he looks at me, head tilted down at slight angle, to analyse my slight sadness in his absence.
He grasps me tight, smiles and then pulls me into him. My head falls onto his chest, my hand slipping under his shirt to feel the lightly chiselled abdomen that I know I will miss. I feel his arm wrapped around me, his hand merely inches away from my posterior. A shiver runs down my spine and my eyes close momentarily, the final feeling of being in his comfort and feeling his love, consuming my every being.
Smiling, I look up at him, wondering what he gazes at. He looks upon me and, when our eyes meet, we smile in unison. He hums nothingness as he strokes my hair into place, as though to make me fall asleep. If only I had the time.
I’d be happy not to go. I would happily stay home and fall asleep in his arms, fall into his grasp every moment for a matter of days on end. Except, time still passes. The time we have is limited before he drives me to the airport for a journey of seven painful hours. But, I need to go for reasons more than one. I need to do this, if not for me, then for him.
“I’ll call you every night.” I smile, tracing my fingers over the creases in his torso.
“I’ll be waiting for you, every minute of the day.” He smiles again, a little chuckle, as though seemingly pleased. “I love you.” He whispers.
As the thin band of silver on my finger glistens under the small light, I smile and reply, “I love you too.” The diamond has one thousand colours, the shining light almost blinding my own eyes if I stare for too long. I bite my lip as I recall the day I often call the best day of my life.
I remember how the veil fell over my face as my dear best friends carried the colourful blossoming bunches in their hands. How he met me at the end of the long wooden floor, which was scattered with petals of many beautiful colour. How the audience sighed in careful awe when my dad left my side and how Chris’ eyes fell upon me as he lifted the veil. His grey suit tailored well to match the pastel yellow of his tie. His blue eyes sparkled under the gleaming light as he gazed into mine. A strand of my hair fell and I smiled with nervous laugh as everything was almost silent with my hands in his grasp. Then that very ring, one of the few things he chose, was slipped upon my finger and then was never removed. His ring was so much less, but still beautiful to me, a date engraved inside with a small message for him. The words read ‘Forever & Always’. Like the words from our blissful voices.
It’s going to be hard - being away from him when I love him so much. Being with someone that loved me many years ago; someone that I almost found myself falling head over heels for. We crave the impossible. So, because he’s so different, because he was so in love with me, it would have been so easy to fall into his grasp and never turn back.
But, I didn’t fall for him. I fell for who is now my dear sweet husband and now I struggle to wait for the family I have always dreamt of having. I’ll have to forgive myself for stepping away; for the greater good of our future. It’s only a few months. It’s going to be hard on the both of us; more so him. But, he’ll be busy and he’ll find a way to pass the time - we managed years ago; we can now.
I waved him off at the airport, my dear Christopher left alone in the country of England. I miss him instantly, my conscience felt guilty momentarily as I took my last steps through the airport. I asked him to look after my family; my dad and my sister and look after himself for I can’t do it so many miles away. Then, a prolonged kiss was all we had remaining to say to each other. Tears escaped our eyes before distance began to overtake our minds again and prevent our presence in one another’s time.
All stereotypes flood to mind as I wonder what in heavens name would be considered of myself by the Americans. Well, what do I think of them? I would say I have a stereotype in mind but, I don’t believe I do. I don’t expect all people that walk the streets to be like Ezra; tall, handsome men with sincere and kind intentions. Nor do I expect them to be the obese population everyone seems to think they are. They could be anything or anyone. People are such complex creatures, it’s illusory to identify them as just one thing. But, one can always be curious.
“Welcome to New York...” The intercom begins, causing me to jolt in my seat, jumping and almost causing great fright to the young woman that sits next to me. I quickly apologise and continue to listen to the monotonous tone. Wiping my eyes with both hands, I then scratch my head and run my fingers through my hair, acting as the bristles of a brush. We wait a few moments, seat belts still attached across our stomach, as the plane slowly travels to a slow. People automatically rise from their seats or speak to a relation of theirs as the pilot turns off the signs that kept us seated.
I wait until the passenger next to me has gathered her things and exited the cabin with her family before I stand and accumulate all of my belongings back into my possession. I slip various things; headphones, books, notebook and pen, into my handbag before checking the seat to be sure I haven’t left anything of my own.
By this time, most people have left the plane and I’m one of the last few to walk down the aisle to the exit. Thanking the kind ginger haired man at the door, dressed smartly in uniform, I smile and pull my handbag onto my shoulder. I exhale a shaky breath as I grow nervous by instinct.
Trekking through the airport to eventually find the security point, I hear accents mainly of an American origin. They make me smile as I remember my unique quality in this country that is suddenly so much more different to me. The weather is already better, the summer warmth heating the airport just as much as I imagine it would outside.
The queue soon dies and I walk towards the desk where a large woman sits, looking through a glass protective screen. She tells me to look at a camera, asks for my fingerprint and requests my desired location. I’m incredibly nervous she’ll turn me away but, I’m relieved and feel I can breathe regularly as she passes me my passport and wishes me a nice time in America.
I don’t have to wait long to collect my suitcase either, the black and white cumbersome portmanteau one of the few remaining on the conveyor belt. I pull it from the rotating mechanism and make my way to the exit. I’m unsure what to expect as Ezra never gave me any instruction of how I’d arrive at Mandarin Oriental Hotel. Exiting the airport a man with a red bow tie holds a white card. In black marker, the text reads ‘My Princess’, and, in slightly smaller text, ‘- Ezra’.
Smiling, I make my way towards the suited man, pulling my suitcase behind me. My eyes squint as I step into the sun and I almost stumble. The kind man, his grey hair shining a little in the light, catches me and smiles. “I was starting to think Ezra didn’t make the name obvious enough. Is this your suitcase?”
I nod and smile at the ease I could have had in confusion. He opens a door, gesturing with a leather gloved hand for me to step inside the vehicle. I get in with great smile on my face as I notice the dark luxurious interior I have been treated to.
As I enter Mandarin Oriental Hotel, my jaw instantly drops in awe. The golden flecks on the walls and the marble finish of every surface in the reception makes the entire building already seem huge. Each section of the building is polished to a fine art finish. As I make my way to my room, I marvel at every corridor and each decoration element that lightens the atmosphere.
My tiredness takes over before long and I decide that my exploring for the day is at an end. I find my room before long and, when I open the door, the lights automatically turn on at a dim setting. Windows opposite me showcase the lights of New York City, illuminating the Hudson River View Suite. I drag my suitcase into the room with me, closing the door before noticing a small trail of pink rose petals. My eyebrows crease as I wonder why they are apparent in my room.
Following the trail, I find the bedroom, which also overlooks the city. I close the curtains to block out any light from the outside and to keep myself in privacy as I sleep. Turning to the bed, petals are scattered over the sheets, a note written amongst them:
Welcome to the Big Apple Angel! I hope your journey was a safe one. I’ll pick you up first thing tomorrow. Sleep well.
Love, Ezra xx
I smile to myself. ‘Princess’ and ‘Angel’. Both in one day. Two nicknames I don’t get called often, not even by Chris. I bite my lip and look at the time on my phone. 18:26. I flick through my applications and find Skype, where I tap the call button. Leaving a voice message, I tell him I arrived safely and I’ll call him tomorrow, just like I promised.
Then, falling back onto the sheets, my eyes close and my body grows heavy as sleep takes over my every being.
Carolyn Hahn-Re: I really liked this story! The writing was well done, and the plot was suspenseful. I couldn't stop reading chapter after chapter, on the edge of my seat! The characters were well developed, and true to form. Thank you so much for this wonderful read.
ernbelle: When I first started this story I was a little unsettled by all of the information that appears in the prologue, and wasn't sure if I would continue. However, I am very glad I did. The plot was very well thought out and really interesting. There were not any page breaks or markers to acknowledge ...
MavisMcQueen: "To Live Again" is a well crafted, highly engaging, heart vibrating tale surrounding our favorite Elven King. The author will keep you engrossed until the very end and by that time you will feel so strongly for Clara and the other characters that you will never want it to end...like ever. Thrandu...
Animeviewer: It is one of the best stories I've ever read. This story will have you riding a roller coaster of emotions and nearly dying to know what happens next.You will get very attached to the characters and in my case I relate well with some of their very traumatic or emotional experiences, Just Juliet f...
Jordan Young: *ALERT FOR POSSIBLE SPOILERS* Where to start? I don't know how to sum up this review, this story was absolutely sensational. Brilliant. Flawless. I loved every single bit of this story, it is truly amazing. I read this story in fifteen hours, it is magnificent. I loved everything about it, the p...
Alex Rushmer: Although I don't know the story of the Phantom of the Opera, I really enjoyed this story. The writing was very evocative, and it really put a picture of time and setting in my mind. The voice of the story really added to the character development. The idea of the time travelling -- or whatever re...
Toria Danielle: I must congratulate Erin Swan on completing such a beautiful work. The Rising Sun is well rounded and leaves nothing to be wanted. ALL of the characters and their development are beautifully written. The plot is extremely well thought out. Creating a whole different type of universe is difficult ...
FreakyPoet: "you made me laugh, made me cry, both are hard to do. I spent most of the night reading your story, captivated. This is why you get full stars from me. Thanks for the great story!"
Sara Joy Bailey: "Full of depth and life. The plot was thrilling. The author's style flows naturally and the reader can easily slip into the pages of the story. Very well done."