Currently Reading-My Ruthless Prince
Its been ages since I read something romantic but I'm currently reading a new book by the infamous Gaelen Foley -Love her.-
The woman brings to life what women want in a man, and then just throws him into the arms of another woman! -SOB-
Hahahahaha, I'm Just kidding....Sortaa. >:^
Anyway here's a looksee of my favorite lines so far.
He reached for the door handle.
"Um, Drake?"
He paused, glancing back in question.
Emily folded her arms across her chest with an irresistible, teasing smile. "I heard them force you into admitting you love me."
"Hmm," he said, rather on guard. "You heard that?"
She nodded, regarding him in amusement.
He looked at her for a long moment. "What makes you think they forced me?"
The joy that broke across her face was like the sun bursting out from behind the cold, formidable mountains.
Her smile beamed: He sent her a wink from the doorway, then he went out and closed the door behind him.
And this part..
"Emily?" he called after her in a low tone.
She stopped and glanced back.
He stared at her. "You've always had my heart."
Her violet eyes lit up. She ran back to kiss him one more time, throwing her arms around him.
"Go to bed," he scolded in a warm whisper after a moment, smiling. She gave him a final, stubborn kiss on the cheek as he playfully pried her away from him.
"I wish you were coming with me."
"So do I. Someday," he said.
The woman makes me gush, and giggle like a teenager while reading her books. (even though I usually appear composed, bored and adult like)
The book is her latest edition in her Inferno Series, which I'm not totally keen on but this book is the best of the lot in my opinion.
<3
Tuesday 13 March 2012
His Home
The trip back home was a quiet one, no tumbles in the air, the business class part where he stayed did not have any squealing babies, in fact it was not occupied by anyone except for him, and a few of his own teams countrymen.
He listened as they conversed of what they're going to tell they're firms, what they would keep on the report and what would be kept in memory.
He smiled inwardly as he overheard one of them tell the other that he would taunt his envious co workers with this new found accomplishment, another telling the rest that they would keep they're parisian adventure high on they're resumes.
He on the other hand was not excited on the familiar faces he would see, his broad frame filled the spacious seating, the effect of his bored stare out the window set most of the females on board gushing at the beauteous male specimen on board.
He wasn't oblivious to his looks, but he wasn't one to dwell on it much, looks change and he was never vain, though secretly he had relished the way she had eyed him, from under her lashes, the coy way she would search him from his neckline down to the length of his chest, she wasn't like most of those blushing maidens his mother threw his way, she looked at him in a knowing way, as if she could tell the effect she had on him.
She was practiced now, long gone was the secluded girl he knew, now she was a full fledged lady true. She could bring any man to his knees if she tried.
He tossed his silly imaginings away, clamping his jaw tight.
It didn't matter anymore.He slid back into his seat, Soon he will be home.
*********************************************
He woke up once more with a start, a friendly stewardess had patted his arm to rise him for lunch, he rubbed his eyes open and took the humble meal offered.
"Would you care for anything to read, Monsieur?" Asked the attendant, he merely nodded in answer.
She brought it a couple of business magazines and a newspaper, he picked up the later, intending to go through the new happenings of his local territory.
The front pages read of political outrages, civil wars, massacres and the usual going on of the very disturbed region, but to most this was unaffected news, he ran through it all with boredom registering that naught has been done about the many pressing situations, he surprised a yawn struggling to bring all the pages together so he could go on ahead with his meal.
And all of a sudden he saw it.
In memory of Sheik X….
He double checked the name again and again just to make sure he had not mistaken it, it read after that of his sons and where the funeral reception would take place, there was a small column of the passing mans many tributes to society, but other than that he did not care to read on.
His dark eyes shifted to look outside his window in bafflement, questions running through his head, his awestruck gaze taken in the familiar piece of landing below.
Are you back?
***************************************************
It took him a while to find out all the details after that, and they weren't happy ones.
From what he could snatch up from his mothers gossip, it seemed that she had come back, a fallen woman of divorce.
"Poor thing he did not leave her a thing. What a cruel cruel man!" Said his mother, putting down her tea cup, "Such a lovely girl, so young." she said tutting.
"So she came back? She's all alone in that house?" He heard his sister ask, her face sallow.
"I hear some of her relatives asked her to move in with them, but she refused, Though I do not think she will stay there for long, people are talking, and it won't do for a woman to live alone, divorced or not."
"Poor girl." Murmured his sister, younger and way behind in experience to understand the full meaning of their mothers lectures.
He decided to rise, taking up the most natural excuse that he had to leave for a smoke.
"You better stop with that. "Said his mother sternly, "Did you read those journals I left you about the dangers of smoking…Oh you never listen to me! Just go, go!" said his mother at his unflinching back,as usual ignoring her advisory barbs.
Truth be told he was not leaving to smoke, he had crossed the hallways of the newly decorated house, down the gardens to the garage.
He retrieved his SUV and drove off, to an olden place.
The streets here smelled of Jasmines, her old house; a white Andalusian inspired mansion, with peeling walls, he parked his car far from the house, deciding to take a look around with out the added attention of a motor.
His hand touched the gilded fence, Its been years since he had come here last, he had refused to come back.
They're naughty escapades as children always started off here, with her house as they're starting point, as young adults she had looked down on him from her mothers balcony, too pretty for words, seeming to him like a forbidden princess he would have to wait to touch.
But then it had all happened too quickly, he had applied for college knowing full well who his bride would be when he would come out triumphant but he had lost her, In an instant.
And now, it seemed that he might gain her back in that same amount of time.
God, You never quit! You pin for her even though she treated you like a dog!
His mind seemed to say, but he ignored it, always the rebel, his eyes watchful behind the aviator sunglasses, it was already dusk but he hadn't bothered taking them off just yet.
Do I dare?
He asked himself, a devilish smile already on his lips as he held on the railing, stepped up the fence, and hung on to ledge, tossing himself on to the other side, down to the familiar berry bushes.
*******************************************
Okay loves, I almost did not post this today, but I went to bed with a churning mind, had to get up and finish to post.
Damn, isn't the He delish? A friend of mine read the posts and was like "OMG, You created the perfect clinging man!" LOL, do you think the male character of this is clingy?
I personally think he's a helpless romantic with a dark side to him, but here's to you…love to know what you think. :)
Friday 9 March 2012
The dream (His/Her)
It was almost noon, his final meeting was adjourned, and he was set to review his work while he was in they're midsts, the effect of they're gazes, some was judgmental others simply contemplative of his work.
He was not a pro, well not in the eyes of these artistic architects of the real world, he was a man with a vision, yes. But his vision was somewhat limited.
He had learned a lot within these few months, it layered him in every aspect of his being, the way he looked at the possibilities was more optimistic now, he smiled more, and found that life was not such a bad place to be.
His eyes roamed over his colleagues, his supervisors, and otherworldly geniuses among his team of revolutionary minds.
He enjoyed every moment, every sweat it had taken for him to produce, the effect of piles of work done, the sense of pride he had with every pat on the back, every congratulating smile.
He had made it here somehow.
And that was something.
She didn't come in his thoughts then, did not intoxicate him with her eyes, and voice.
No, he was still and focused at the task at hand, the world looking only to him, reporters filming in the background as he finally went on to his unveiling.
As he pronounced his accomplishments, the world around him beamed, and glittered, the masses at his feet began to clap, and at the end cheers of hail come to voice at the foreign man before them.
"Bravo, Bravo!" said one, another clapped him on the back and an older french woman tried agilely to kiss him flat.
He was brought up laughing and the camera's told of how he looked, the way he beamed at the international array of faces, forgotten a dream in his head.
Yes, how long has he come to forget.
And here, it had happened.
Her face became lost in the masses that surrounded him, and he finally forgot.
At least for that moment.
*************************************************
She finally entered her old chambers, the white of her walls turned yellow, her bed spread smelled of dust, her father's old room she did not dare enter, she had designed it in her head that it would stay just the way he had left it, an old portrait of her mother by the lampshade, his own picture from his army days tucked into the wood framed mirror of his dresser, the scent of his old spicy cologne still clinging on his grey sheets.
How she missed him.
His smile, the fabled pat on her shoulder when her head was looking downwards, tears lurking in her eyes, he was always optimistic about the world, like it would one day rain flowers.
She did not know how he could do it, he had lost so much before her eyes, everything around them seemed to shrink and disappear, his own career, his early retirement, his business falling into crumbs and all he was left with was debts, and more debts at her lavish education.
Her mother gave up her luxurious life style, of shopping and relying on the help, instead they had let go most of they're servants, they're expensive european cars to used asian ones, she was riding a benz to school when so abruptly she had switched to riding the bus instead.
Her mother gripped at the changed life poverty had introduced, but she wasn't one accustomed to strain.
She had left them when she was thirteen.
Of course being her father's daughter she never once looked back on her, her mother was half french and had taken flight to her family in Nice, she had tried to contact her several times but to no avail. -That was how she had come to speak french like a native, though very few people knew of how she had obtained it.-
She was not one to be discarded then picked up again, she would never take such a person back.
She had decided to keep true to her father's memory, and leave things exactly the way he had left them.
Well, atleast what she could keep the same.
Her marriage was over, and so was her deliance in paris.
The thoughts she had built on they're meetings, what a fool she was.
To think that she could take back the things she had left and just simply start over.
The world was not a white page, and she certainly did not have the means to change it.
Memories, words, and actions took to come where she was now, she had dug herself an exit and she was yet to go through it.
Where would she go from here?
So there she sat on her old bed, a lone lamp open in the darkened house, the walls seemed to hum at her presence, and she tried to ignore the normal fear of anyone who was alone in an old house.
She picked up a pen, an old note book, and began to scribble.
"The world around me has changed, I no longer see the ghosts I fear, the words in my head encourage me to step forward, and the corridors of life seems to light at my every step.
My world has changed, papa.
I am no longer a little girl in need of your embrace, I've grown, I miss you terribly, yes. But I know that our times will all come to an end someday, now, for no reason at all, I live on. I regret not having you feel pride for me, the way you'd look at my failures sympathetically and continue to cheer me on, I never looked upon you that way when you most needed it, papa. I only wished for the things I could not have. I complained about wanting my own car, when yours barely got you to work, I imagined journeys to foreign worlds, when you barely could pay my school bills, I never cared one whit about your composure, the way you looked on to me and smiled, shaking your head at the ideals of a dreamer although promising you'd get me all that I wanted and more. Papa, why do I ache? Why do I fall every time I look up? Why am I lost now? How did you peruse through those dark moments when no one was there?
I have so many questions, yet. The answers I seek are buried with you. I cannot face the world yet, Papa. I will stay here, in the place where you breathed your last breath.
I love you,
Your daughter~
She looked upon the sheet of paper, her eyes blurry, and she blinked the blur away, only to find that her words became wet, and her breath was stolen in a moan.
She brought her knees together and wept, she let her pain seep through her tears, in the private place that was completely hers, she cried.
For her past, the chance at a dream, and her loneliness.
**********************************************************
I Just wanted to comment that this post really made me tear while writing it, I hope my thoughts in words actually succeeded in showing those characters true emotions, please keep in mind that I do not edit. This is a very raw draft, I hope you enjoy reading the His/Her posts as much as I enjoy writing them.
Those characters unnamed as they are seem to really grow on me, and some of you might wonder why I choose to leave them unnamed, well; I don't know. I like the concept of keeping that way though. :P
Oh! Commet please. :)
Until next time,
Adieu . :**
He was not a pro, well not in the eyes of these artistic architects of the real world, he was a man with a vision, yes. But his vision was somewhat limited.
He had learned a lot within these few months, it layered him in every aspect of his being, the way he looked at the possibilities was more optimistic now, he smiled more, and found that life was not such a bad place to be.
His eyes roamed over his colleagues, his supervisors, and otherworldly geniuses among his team of revolutionary minds.
He enjoyed every moment, every sweat it had taken for him to produce, the effect of piles of work done, the sense of pride he had with every pat on the back, every congratulating smile.
He had made it here somehow.
And that was something.
She didn't come in his thoughts then, did not intoxicate him with her eyes, and voice.
No, he was still and focused at the task at hand, the world looking only to him, reporters filming in the background as he finally went on to his unveiling.
As he pronounced his accomplishments, the world around him beamed, and glittered, the masses at his feet began to clap, and at the end cheers of hail come to voice at the foreign man before them.
"Bravo, Bravo!" said one, another clapped him on the back and an older french woman tried agilely to kiss him flat.
He was brought up laughing and the camera's told of how he looked, the way he beamed at the international array of faces, forgotten a dream in his head.
Yes, how long has he come to forget.
And here, it had happened.
Her face became lost in the masses that surrounded him, and he finally forgot.
At least for that moment.
*************************************************
She finally entered her old chambers, the white of her walls turned yellow, her bed spread smelled of dust, her father's old room she did not dare enter, she had designed it in her head that it would stay just the way he had left it, an old portrait of her mother by the lampshade, his own picture from his army days tucked into the wood framed mirror of his dresser, the scent of his old spicy cologne still clinging on his grey sheets.
How she missed him.
His smile, the fabled pat on her shoulder when her head was looking downwards, tears lurking in her eyes, he was always optimistic about the world, like it would one day rain flowers.
She did not know how he could do it, he had lost so much before her eyes, everything around them seemed to shrink and disappear, his own career, his early retirement, his business falling into crumbs and all he was left with was debts, and more debts at her lavish education.
Her mother gave up her luxurious life style, of shopping and relying on the help, instead they had let go most of they're servants, they're expensive european cars to used asian ones, she was riding a benz to school when so abruptly she had switched to riding the bus instead.
Her mother gripped at the changed life poverty had introduced, but she wasn't one accustomed to strain.
She had left them when she was thirteen.
Of course being her father's daughter she never once looked back on her, her mother was half french and had taken flight to her family in Nice, she had tried to contact her several times but to no avail. -That was how she had come to speak french like a native, though very few people knew of how she had obtained it.-
She was not one to be discarded then picked up again, she would never take such a person back.
She had decided to keep true to her father's memory, and leave things exactly the way he had left them.
Well, atleast what she could keep the same.
Her marriage was over, and so was her deliance in paris.
The thoughts she had built on they're meetings, what a fool she was.
To think that she could take back the things she had left and just simply start over.
The world was not a white page, and she certainly did not have the means to change it.
Memories, words, and actions took to come where she was now, she had dug herself an exit and she was yet to go through it.
Where would she go from here?
So there she sat on her old bed, a lone lamp open in the darkened house, the walls seemed to hum at her presence, and she tried to ignore the normal fear of anyone who was alone in an old house.
She picked up a pen, an old note book, and began to scribble.
"The world around me has changed, I no longer see the ghosts I fear, the words in my head encourage me to step forward, and the corridors of life seems to light at my every step.
My world has changed, papa.
I am no longer a little girl in need of your embrace, I've grown, I miss you terribly, yes. But I know that our times will all come to an end someday, now, for no reason at all, I live on. I regret not having you feel pride for me, the way you'd look at my failures sympathetically and continue to cheer me on, I never looked upon you that way when you most needed it, papa. I only wished for the things I could not have. I complained about wanting my own car, when yours barely got you to work, I imagined journeys to foreign worlds, when you barely could pay my school bills, I never cared one whit about your composure, the way you looked on to me and smiled, shaking your head at the ideals of a dreamer although promising you'd get me all that I wanted and more. Papa, why do I ache? Why do I fall every time I look up? Why am I lost now? How did you peruse through those dark moments when no one was there?
I have so many questions, yet. The answers I seek are buried with you. I cannot face the world yet, Papa. I will stay here, in the place where you breathed your last breath.
I love you,
Your daughter~
She looked upon the sheet of paper, her eyes blurry, and she blinked the blur away, only to find that her words became wet, and her breath was stolen in a moan.
She brought her knees together and wept, she let her pain seep through her tears, in the private place that was completely hers, she cried.
For her past, the chance at a dream, and her loneliness.
**********************************************************
I Just wanted to comment that this post really made me tear while writing it, I hope my thoughts in words actually succeeded in showing those characters true emotions, please keep in mind that I do not edit. This is a very raw draft, I hope you enjoy reading the His/Her posts as much as I enjoy writing them.
Those characters unnamed as they are seem to really grow on me, and some of you might wonder why I choose to leave them unnamed, well; I don't know. I like the concept of keeping that way though. :P
Oh! Commet please. :)
Until next time,
Adieu . :**
Sunday 4 March 2012
The singalong song
So the other day I was jamming with my baby sister to this really old song...
To my english speaking friends I'll write you the translation, Don't want to leave my lovelies out of this. <3
If you ask the ground about the taste of rain, it will swear it did not quench its thurst.
If you ask the wind, about the road to travel, it will reply He went on to travel.
Repeat x3
If you ask the night about the moonlight، with the ages it has lost its glow.
My love I cannot look, for in your eyes I see our beginnings drowning.
Repeat x2
Chorus:
If you ask the ground about the taste of rain, it will swear it did not quench its thurst.
If you ask the wind, about the road to travel, it will reply He went on to travel.
Orchestra...
The voice of fate made us retreat on our love, every easiness is swamped with perils.
if we drink patience, we reach disappointment, and if we seek glory we are brought down to defeat with the truth.
Repeat All.
If we forget time, wakefulness will remind us, and if we wish for pride, minutes will disappoint.
My luck is fallen, and your luck has followed the same fate, and now a lover mourns his love.
I just love this song, its so beautifully worded though it might sound a bit corny translated...I just wanted to share. :)
Saturday 3 March 2012
Italy-Paris/ The turning point
His mind had been racing, the effects of her note had driven him for long nights of wakefulness and a somber mood, his coworkers had commented that he was not himself ever since he had set foot in the city of lights; but they did not know his true reason.
This trip had brought out the child, boy and man in him, it had been fun working on such an exclusive project but his worries had turned from professional to extreme personal, it all happened when he saw her…
Of all the people he had to run into it…it was her.
He was always told that god worked in mysterious ways but this was a cruel joke.
His first love thrown into the streets of paris just in time for his arrival,
Ever since then, his dreams would be about her, the mysterious softness of her, eluding him like always even in his own slumber…
Not this time. His mind reasoned, this time she'd come back to him, riches or not, she would be truly his.
The inside pocket of his suit carried a small black box, in the crimson interior of it, laid a rock that might seal his future forever.
If only she'd come back sooner though, it was almost a week since her departure, and he had this itch in his spine something was not right..
****************************************
"So you dare come here?!" Spoke the graceful woman rising in a growing tantrum of her daring to interfere with they're family matter, sons and daughters stood around her like a military force ready to attack with just a word from they're hysterical mother, blocking away the white bed behind them from view.
"It could not be helped, he is my husband too." Replied the younger lady, words of ice against her oppositions screams of fire.
"Not for long, you idiot!" Said the first wife, "You were hoping for the inheritance yes? You little slut, my husband had supplied investigators after you…it seems you were canoodling with that man, I even received pictures of your affair, It only became more apparent when my love came to tell me of your request for a divorce…you want to go back and join with that man is that it?"
"I was raised to be a lady ma'am, and I ask you not to use such language when addressing me, and I care not for an inheritance, you said yourself I had asked for a divorce, but I do not think my marriage with the Sheik is that to be forgotten, I've never wished him anything but happiness and health, will you please move aside and let me see him."
"Mother these kind of discussions cannot be good for father, Let her see him for a moment and be gone." Said the elder son, a man in his thirties about ten years her senior, she gave him a polite nod of recognition, his mother stepped aside at the sense he voiced.
Beyond them, sat her recovering spouse, covered in white sheets, his eyes open looking upwards, "I apologize for not coming sooner, I was only told about your situation an hour ago…how are you feeling?" She said softly taking his hand between her own.
"I'm dying." He said in a croak, his hand cold in her own warmer ones, "I should have known…"he murmured, barely audible, "You never were content."
She almost sobbed into the sheets, her guilt escalating with the effect of his words carried in the weakest of whispers, "I don't want to see you."
"I know, but I couldn't not come."She whispered kissing his palm, "You were my savior in my time of need, I shall never forget that."
"I have spoken to my pilot to take you back home, Your belongings will reach you there."
"As you wish." She said, her voice meek infront of his hardness, she couldn't argue now, not anymore, she was a used and tossed woman.
Good for you.
Her mind jeered, if she had kept shut about her deliance in Paris and regarded it as one all this would never have happened, such dishonor has fallen over her, she couldn't lift her head anymore now.
Forgive me, father.
She then excused herself, a few cruel chuckles of her step daughters echoed behind her, whispers containing the world Slut wafted to her ears, but she ignored it.
But it was then she realized how far down she had went; it seemed to her that it was that moment of confrontation that had made her use that trait she had never used before.
Guts.
;Guts to speak out against a room full of enemies and come out, alive yet frail and defeated, she deserved it though, she knew.
Later that day she boarded the private Jet she had been so accustomed to using, the lush seats, the delicious array of trays she had always preferred, but this time it was served with catlike glances at her from the crew, they're taunting quips of "Until next time." and "See you again, Ma'am." It made her turn her iciest, sitting straight and bold through out the six hour flight home.
That was the end of her marriage.
*****************************************************************
It had been almost two months of no answered calls, or messages, he was still in Paris swamped with work, his superiors rushing him with projects and drawings, blueprints that needed his approval, his assistants working day and night to finally get it done.
He had felt selfish at the time for discarding such a turning point of his career for a chance with a dream.
His one true dream girl had eluded him once again, she had tricked him into waiting for her while she went cruising to Italy to her beloved husband, He concluded that he must have been nice company for a bored rich man's wife.
He imagined asking her,
Would anyone have sufficed for you?
His mind warred with his heart to give up the erotic thoughts of having her beside him, perhaps even more than a lover, he had wanted to take her back home as his, and proclaim it to his family.
But Alas that was never to be.
His phone rang then, "Monsieur Architect." His superior's voice joked, "Zer is one last project you must finish to return home, I already sent zee documents to your assistant, will expect your reply at the end of zis week." Said the snob frenchman.
"Oui, Monsieur Jaques, Just leave it to me." He replied in a humble tone, never one to cross down a job.
I just want to go home.
it was a silent wish, one he did not reveal to anyone but himself.
**********************************************
To be continued….
Thank you all for reading this, please leave your comments and thoughts, would love to know what you think.
I know its a bit slower than my last posts, but this is such a turning point for our characters…
Fingers crossed!! <3
This trip had brought out the child, boy and man in him, it had been fun working on such an exclusive project but his worries had turned from professional to extreme personal, it all happened when he saw her…
Of all the people he had to run into it…it was her.
He was always told that god worked in mysterious ways but this was a cruel joke.
His first love thrown into the streets of paris just in time for his arrival,
Ever since then, his dreams would be about her, the mysterious softness of her, eluding him like always even in his own slumber…
Not this time. His mind reasoned, this time she'd come back to him, riches or not, she would be truly his.
The inside pocket of his suit carried a small black box, in the crimson interior of it, laid a rock that might seal his future forever.
If only she'd come back sooner though, it was almost a week since her departure, and he had this itch in his spine something was not right..
****************************************
"So you dare come here?!" Spoke the graceful woman rising in a growing tantrum of her daring to interfere with they're family matter, sons and daughters stood around her like a military force ready to attack with just a word from they're hysterical mother, blocking away the white bed behind them from view.
"It could not be helped, he is my husband too." Replied the younger lady, words of ice against her oppositions screams of fire.
"Not for long, you idiot!" Said the first wife, "You were hoping for the inheritance yes? You little slut, my husband had supplied investigators after you…it seems you were canoodling with that man, I even received pictures of your affair, It only became more apparent when my love came to tell me of your request for a divorce…you want to go back and join with that man is that it?"
"I was raised to be a lady ma'am, and I ask you not to use such language when addressing me, and I care not for an inheritance, you said yourself I had asked for a divorce, but I do not think my marriage with the Sheik is that to be forgotten, I've never wished him anything but happiness and health, will you please move aside and let me see him."
"Mother these kind of discussions cannot be good for father, Let her see him for a moment and be gone." Said the elder son, a man in his thirties about ten years her senior, she gave him a polite nod of recognition, his mother stepped aside at the sense he voiced.
Beyond them, sat her recovering spouse, covered in white sheets, his eyes open looking upwards, "I apologize for not coming sooner, I was only told about your situation an hour ago…how are you feeling?" She said softly taking his hand between her own.
"I'm dying." He said in a croak, his hand cold in her own warmer ones, "I should have known…"he murmured, barely audible, "You never were content."
She almost sobbed into the sheets, her guilt escalating with the effect of his words carried in the weakest of whispers, "I don't want to see you."
"I know, but I couldn't not come."She whispered kissing his palm, "You were my savior in my time of need, I shall never forget that."
"I have spoken to my pilot to take you back home, Your belongings will reach you there."
"As you wish." She said, her voice meek infront of his hardness, she couldn't argue now, not anymore, she was a used and tossed woman.
Good for you.
Her mind jeered, if she had kept shut about her deliance in Paris and regarded it as one all this would never have happened, such dishonor has fallen over her, she couldn't lift her head anymore now.
Forgive me, father.
She then excused herself, a few cruel chuckles of her step daughters echoed behind her, whispers containing the world Slut wafted to her ears, but she ignored it.
But it was then she realized how far down she had went; it seemed to her that it was that moment of confrontation that had made her use that trait she had never used before.
Guts.
;Guts to speak out against a room full of enemies and come out, alive yet frail and defeated, she deserved it though, she knew.
Later that day she boarded the private Jet she had been so accustomed to using, the lush seats, the delicious array of trays she had always preferred, but this time it was served with catlike glances at her from the crew, they're taunting quips of "Until next time." and "See you again, Ma'am." It made her turn her iciest, sitting straight and bold through out the six hour flight home.
That was the end of her marriage.
*****************************************************************
It had been almost two months of no answered calls, or messages, he was still in Paris swamped with work, his superiors rushing him with projects and drawings, blueprints that needed his approval, his assistants working day and night to finally get it done.
He had felt selfish at the time for discarding such a turning point of his career for a chance with a dream.
His one true dream girl had eluded him once again, she had tricked him into waiting for her while she went cruising to Italy to her beloved husband, He concluded that he must have been nice company for a bored rich man's wife.
He imagined asking her,
Would anyone have sufficed for you?
His mind warred with his heart to give up the erotic thoughts of having her beside him, perhaps even more than a lover, he had wanted to take her back home as his, and proclaim it to his family.
But Alas that was never to be.
His phone rang then, "Monsieur Architect." His superior's voice joked, "Zer is one last project you must finish to return home, I already sent zee documents to your assistant, will expect your reply at the end of zis week." Said the snob frenchman.
"Oui, Monsieur Jaques, Just leave it to me." He replied in a humble tone, never one to cross down a job.
I just want to go home.
it was a silent wish, one he did not reveal to anyone but himself.
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To be continued….
Thank you all for reading this, please leave your comments and thoughts, would love to know what you think.
I know its a bit slower than my last posts, but this is such a turning point for our characters…
Fingers crossed!! <3
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