Good day! So this would be the second story I'm publishing here. I wrote the prologue a while ago. (Yes, the story does indeed have more than one chapter.)
This is the kind of little romance-meeting-again-after-half-a-decade stories I just love to read over and over again. It's boring and sappy, but I just wanted to write something like that, too, just once.
I'm not happy with the prologue, though, as I'm never happy with my work, it sure isn't perfect with me not even being a native speaker, but hey, I'm doing this for fun. I would, however, be thankful for any thoughts you can offer. (Means: Give me reviews, please! Please! I love reviews!)
I'm publishing now, by the way, because I can't have Everwood dying here when I'm just starting to write. Everwood for ever!
I hope you'll enjoy the story!
One thing I guess I have to say: I don't own anything at all, except the storyline maybe.
Turning Back Time
Prologue
The December morning in the year of 2011 that she found herself
walking the streets of Everwood again after two years of absence was
snowy and so cold that the air pricked her skin like needles where
ever reachable. She still remembered the days well when she, as a
girl, had been playing in that snow in her thick skiing clothes. It
was long ago: In her black coat and the red scarf there wasn't much
left to see of that girl. Only her brother's old cap with that too
big bobble on top gave her away a little, not fitting that ladylike
style. The cap was old, he'd worn it as a child, but searching the
closets it had been the only one she'd been able to find in her
hurry. It did have it's charm, and certainly held some good memories
of snowball fights and sledding races.
She shoved her red-gloved hands deep into her coat pockets. The
soft, finely spun and woven wool rubbed lightly against her palms.
Everwood's main street was frozen over and once in a while a car
would slither by not much faster than she was herself. She'd been
walking all the way from the house she'd grown up in to that only
main street her little town had ever known. Everwood felt good, felt
right. Felt cold, but home. It was her home, she felt that more than
ever, seeing it again. Remembering. The snow on the sidewalk, though
plowed several times a day on the main street, was old and hard and
icy. An Everwoodian at heart she should've known better than to
wear her high-heeled boots, but lost in thoughts she hadn't even
noticed until she'd landed on her bottom ten minutes from home. And
she hadn't wanted to go back, to that beloved place she'd fled
from, though it wasn't really the place she was trying to
avoid.
The streets were still empty that Wednesday morning at seven
thirty and only dimly one could guess where the sun was going to
rise. Still a warm light illuminated that little town. Christmas
decoration, oh, how she loved that holiday. Surprisingly enough, she
still felt her toes as she passed by an unfamiliar building, a
supermarket. Odd, it seemed, in a town that never changed. The
town that time forgot, an old, long-lost friend had once called
it and that quote burnt in her chest. She took a pace backwards and
lingered for a while admiring the Christmas decoration in the
shop-window. It was silent for the birds hush at cold winter
mornings. Deciding to give her cold feet a rest, she entered. A bell
jingled with the opening of the door and the cashier looked up, a
teenager with the darkest circles under his eyes. She gave him a
smile and moved her mouth in attempt to say "hi" but she'd
lost her voice somewhere on that icy sidewalk. He weakly smiled back.
"'Lo." The light in the market was cold and white, not
very Chrismassy, but the room was nice and warm. The market was big
and in some corners, heads down she spotted a few other early risers
behind the shelves. She walked on, deeply inside the store,
disappearing herself between the rows of shelves.
Absent-mindedly eyeing things she'd never buy she slowly moved
deeper inside. Life was odd these days as she thought about her life
more closely than she ever had. It no longer felt right and happy and
she missed her life back in Everwood. Life was odd these days and she
didn't know why.
As she looked up from the bottle she was holding she saw, vision
blurred, brown hair on a bent down head on the opposite side of the
shelf. Slowly she focussed and recognizing, a long lost glow and a
surprised smile spread widely across her face. "Ephram."
The young man jerked backwards with a start, looked up with those
piercing blue eyes painfully. "Amy?" Her eyes moved from
left to right a little, thinking. She nodded never ceasing to smile
so brightly and her eyes fixed on him again, "yeah, it's me.
Oh, it's so good to see you. It's been ages, hasn't it?"
He nodded and looked down, so troubled, "five years." He
was struggling for breath, she knew she'd caught him off guard. He
hadn't changed much in those years. His hair was the same length as
the day he left shortly before his nineteenth birthday. And he still
wore a black coat. Yet he looked exhausted and utterly tired with
those rings around his eyes. He was probably working too hard, she
remembered how ambitious he could get. His skin was pale, but his
cheeks were red, almost blue. From wandering the freezing streets of
Everwood, she figured. She probably looked alike. "Home for the
holidays?", she asked him waiting for him to look back up, which
he did bringing her heart to a stop for only one second. "Yeah,
I... I. Eventually. Delia begged me to. She has a new boyfriend she
wanted to introduce to me and I, I managed to get a few free days
into my schedule." She kept on smiling, couldn't help it.
"I don't remember you as an early bird," he commented.
"Well... I just... had to get out of the house a little. Get my
mind off of things." – "Family can be a real pain, huh?",
he shrugged, tried to smile, but it looked rather crooked. "It's
not that..." She wanted to tell him, wanted to talk to him. She
missed him so much. "Oh..." but he didn't ask. And he was
right not to, their relationship was not that kind anymore. "So
when did you arrive?", he asked. She snapped out of her
melancholic trance and looking back at him, her smile returned,
"yesterday. Late. About eleven PM. You?" His smile gained
honesty, "yesterday. Early. About eleven AM." He looked at
the bottle she was holding in her clenched hands right beneath her
chin and reluctantly grinned. "You going bald?" – "Huh?",
she looked at the bottle and almost dropped it in surprise. "N-no..."
she quickly placed it back on the shelf, "I was just...
looking." To prove it to him she pulled off the cap and blushed.
In five years, she hadn't changed her hair either, the blonde
curls, gorgeous as ever, curled down to her shoulders shining in the
white light like liquid gold, a little fuzzy now, after being stuck
under a cap of scratchy old wool. "You know you've got that
bald spot right on top of your head, don't ya?", he joked and
she was glad to feel that bond returning lightly. "Jerk."
"Thanks." She smiled brightly, "you're welcome...
So. How have you been doing? I didn't hear much about you." He
shrugged his shoulders with a smile, "that's probably because
there isn't much to hear about me." – "Oh, come on, I'm
sure there is," she nudged him, "you have your bachelor's
degree since last year, they say." He nodded, "and now I'm
doing my master's." Her eyes widened, "really?" –
"Yeah," he smiled. "Oh Ephram, I'm so proud of you.
I knew you'd make it!" He laughed, "wait. I don't have
it yet!" She almost started bobbing up and down. "I have
always believed in you, you know?" With another smile he nodded.
"I'm sorry for the way we left things," she confessed
suddenly sad, reminded of their past and the closeness they used to
share. "What way is that?", he looked pleading and
confused, as though he only knew what she meant deep down inside. "So
cold and so... broken." The words sunk in.
"It wasn't cold," he replied and shook his head
slowly, "not on my part. I cried as we said goodbye."
Thinking about it. "Me too. I cried for us. I cried because we
were barely friends anymore and I knew I wouldn't see you again. I
never wanted us to end that way, Ephram, I swear." She swallowed
the lump in her throat holding back the tears at the memory of losing
him for good. She had chased him away; she knew it and he knew it,
too. So just a long gazing at each other remained of the
conversation, until he finally croaked an "I know" looking
down. "Changes nothing..."
He had loved her, he had really loved her. She remembered that
one-night stand six years earlier. "Amy..." he had
looked so helpless and scared, yet hopeful sitting on the floor and
she, so powerfully, above him, "I still love you." But
she hadn't been able to and hadn't wanted to. He had been too
late.
"Anyway," he tried to go back to casual, "you know,
I've been hearing a lot about you, Amy," he said her name
slowly, his voice sounding so wistful and delicate, "Everwood
loves to gossip about it's favorite couple. My father's now one
of them... quite apart from my sister." He gave her a weary
smile, she made a sorry attempt to smile back. "What did you
hear?", she asked softly. "Well, you guys got married."
She nodded. "You graduated." She nodded again. "You
moved to California." She shook her head, "no, we... we
thought about it, but... we live in Oregon. Near Mount Hood." He
nodded, scrutinized her face carefully, thinking. "They are also
saying that you are trying to have a baby but it doesn't work,"
he said looking down sadly. She looked at him in shock, "they
are? I-I... I mean... wh-why would they say that?" He shrugged
though, "I don't know. So it's not true?" Oh, but he cared.
He cared! She loved the thought, despite knowing she shouldn't.
She couldn't speak for some seconds, returning to the actual
topic: How would they know? It stung deeply, that the most intimate
details of her life had been discussed in public, had reached Ephram.
That was something she had always hated about Everwood. Privacy did
not exist. "N-no... no! It's... it's not entirely true."
He stuck his hands into his pockets, shrugged and looked at her with
concern. And hurt. "Then what's true about it?"
"Colin... wants a baby. I don't. He's been trying to
sweet-talk me into it for a year now." He looked rather
satisfied with that information, looked even triumphant, but Amy
barely noticed. "Looks like he's not going to succeed."
She confirmed that conclusion with a nod, "definitely. Not till
I'm thirty anyway. I mean, what's he thinking? I'm only
twenty-four!"
Ephram looked at her for a while, seemingly blank, "maybe
he's just in love." True, he certainly was. She locked eyes
with the young man in front of her, "is that what men want when
they're in love?" He broke the eye contact within the
following seconds, eyes moving, looking at everything but her.
"I-I..." he stuttered, blushing, giving a short laugh, "I
could i-imagine it. Lively, even. If... if I were in love wi-with...
a woman. If I were in love with a woman." He paused and
carefully looked up, then locked eyes again, head still bent, humbly.
"Isn't it... isn't it the most beautiful way to express...
live my love to someone... I mean... to create something so...
incredible and beautiful and unique, something that has our blood
running through it's veins... with you. Her, I-- I mean. Not you, I
didn't mean to say you. We were just talking about you and Colin
and me and somebody I'd love," he rambled, "I. I just...
mixed it all up." She laughed about his cuteness happily, smiled
brightly, "it's okay, Ephram." She couldn't help but sing
his name, surprised herself by the feeling that seeing him again was
the highlight of her year.
Colin Hart sure loved his wife more than anything. They'd gone
through the worst and the best times together, they had been
separated, but eventually, like in the fairytales, had always found
back together, leaving up to a few weeks earlier no doubt in his mind
that they were meant to be. He still believed in their love, it had
suffered so many times, but it had always ended up much stronger than
it had been before. In the end not even Ephram had been able to tear
them apart. Amy was his now and he hoped nobody could change that,
she'd chosen him, even over Ephram and that had been the ultimate
proof to him. Back then.
Standing at the window in the Abbott's living room, he was
gazing out of the window, wondering where she was, so early. He'd
woken up at seven, bed empty, the clothes she'd placed on a chair
the evening before gone. Ever since, he was looking, staring,
watching every movement outside. Everything outside had been dyed in
dark blue first so he hadn't seen much, but soon enough daylight
had come, leaving the blue in the snow light and in pastels. Cold in
color as in reality. Cold as in his heart. Colin had been addled for
a while as a young man, but aside from that had never been stupid, he
sensed Amy wasn't feeling well lately, the way she avoided him, the
way she turned her back on him in her sleep. It used to be different.
Now she made him feel cold. In walking away from him in the middle of
the night as though she could no longer bear to share a bed with him.
He raised his eyebrows as a dark green SUV stopped at the side of the
street and watched carefully. Amy got out, saying some last words to
the driver, slamming the door and then, smiling more widely than he'd
seen in a while, walked up the driveway.
The car remained till he heard the keys in the lock of the door,
then left. He heard how the door got opened slowly. Amy was careful
not to wake anyone up. He heard her happy sigh, heard her coat
slipping off her shoulders. "Whose car was that?", he asked
trying to sound friendly and walked up to her out of the living-room.
Still she flinched away from him, gave him a scared look, coat in her
hands. "Dr. Brown's. Ephram drove me," then, changing the
subject, "you scared me. I thought everyone was still asleep."
He nodded, jaw tightening, "Ephram." Jealousy was a feeling
only that one man could give him, his only weak spot. "I didn't
know you were still in contact with him." She narrowed her eyes,
placed her coat on a hook, "this doesn't suit you, Colin. I'm
tired of these discussions, just forget it, will you?" He felt
the anger, tried to hold it back, "you cheated on me with him. I
can't just forget that! I never wanted to think of him again
and now I find out you're still seeing him and I should just..
smile about it? Sorry, Amy, I can't do that." Amy sighed, got
out of her boots not saying anything and then walked into the
living-room. "I'm not seeing him. I just met
him, at a store, when I went for a walk. He's been mybest friend, not to mention pretty much my only friend
at the worst times of my life. Should I have just ignored him?"
Colin came to a standing in front of her, "why not, Amy? He
almost ruined our life." He heard it when she mumbled, "not
quite sure 'bout that," looking down. "What's that
supposed to mean?!", he almost yelled at her. "Be quiet,
Colin, my family's still asleep! We're guests in this house."
He sighed, "Amy. Is it really too much to ask you to keep away
from him? After all that happened between you two?" He pleaded
with her. "Yes, Colin, it is!", she replied determined, "it
is if I want to see him. I'm not yours, I'm just your wife. I
know what we did wasn't right and we hurt you incredibly much, but
Ephram and I... we've been through too much to just ignore him at a
store. Please understand... we're just friends. I married you,
remember? If I wanted to be with him, I would've married him,
wouldn't I?" He reluctantly nodded. Even if he wouldn't have
been able to point his finger at it, something about the look in her
eyes when she said that bothered him. For a second he thought he'd
seen regret, but it was gone before he'd been able to give a closer
look. He was paranoid concerning Ephram, he had probably just
imagined it.
In his head, though, he saw them together. Amy running up to her
secret lover, hugging and kissing him, telling him she'd missed him
so much. He saw them in bed together, having rough and passionate
sex, while he barely remembered what her naked body looked like. "I
still don't like it," he whispered shrugging, looking down. He
loved the way she laughed, when she thought something was sweet, the
way she did right then. "I know." Slowly she moved a hand
through his hair. He wanted to purr like a kitten at her gentle
touch. He was like putty in her hands, felt guilty for having
believed, that she would go and break his heart just like that. She
had loved Ephram. She had truly and dearly loved Ephram, but they all
knew it was over. It had ended with the one time she slept with him
in college, she'd told him. She had needed this ending for what had
been between her and Ephram. They had deserved an ending. "I
love you, Colin," she whispered swallowing, in reply he just
hugged her. Good to know.
Exhausted, Ephram entered his father's house with a loud and
desperate sigh, he got rid of the packet of cornflakes he'd bought
on the shelf under the mirror at one of the walls in the entrance
hall right next to the door and first of all grabbed his chin between
index finger and thumb, loosening his jaw in shaking it a little. Oh,
God hated him. Amy Abbott... or Amy Hart, of all people! He'd
clenched his teeth so tightly his jaw now hurt. So nervous he had
been, so stressed, just because she'd been there. He pushed off his
coat and hung it up, sighed again shaking his head to get rid of the
cold and the thoughts. He formed fists with his hands, then spread
his fingers again. He was stiff. Then, kicking off his shoes he
grabbed the cornflakes and plodded into the kitchen. His eyelids
hung, he had to yawn, his mind was operating on low energy, now that
full concentration had overtaxed him talking to Amy so early that
morning.
He spotted the milk outside the refrigerator, right where he'd
left it. "Damn it." He threw the packet of cornflakes
knocking, lucky as he was, down a glass into the sink. The noise was
unbearable to his tired ears, while another sound, a thud, from the
living-room slowly entered his mind. Sam. He silently cursed himself
and slowly turned to look at the tired fourteen-year-old, who came
from the living-room rubbing the back of his head. "What the
heck?", he asked in a croaky voice, "it's, like, five in
the morning or something, why are you so noisy. I'm trying to sleep
here."
"Sorry," Ephram replied with a sigh, rubbing his eyes,
"didn't mean to wake you." – "Hell, I'm awake
anyway." Sam obviously didn't like to be woken up early in the
morning. The blonde teen sat down at the kitchen island. "What
the f... what are you doing anyways?!" Had he been such an
annoying teenager aswell? He grimaced, definitely. "Just trying
to eat cornflakes." Sam raised an eyebrow and nodded, "I
see." The boy cocked his head to the side a little and looked at
the sink scenario, "you're not being aggressive or anything?"
He followed Sam's look with his own eyes and nodded, "I just
met an old friend I'd rather not wanted to meet." Sam gave him
a questioning look, "I used to think people like to meet old
friends." – "Well, normal friends, maybe," Ephram
replied, "but she's the ex." He flopped down next to Sam.
Sam's eyes widened, "the ex?"
"No, the other one." In Ephram's life there had only
been two important girlfriends, two women he'd loved, two women
he'd been hurt by so badly. Madison and Amy. While he always just
called Madison "the ex" for giving away his son, which he'd
never forgive, Amy had only been a repressed memory to that day,
because he couldn't even bear to hear her name.
"That Amy girl, huh?" Amy was a legend in the Brown's
house. The only girl that ever really understood Ephram, she'd been
ready to do so much for him. The only person who had ever made Ephram
truly happy. The first girl he ever truly loved, probably the only
one as well. Not to mention that he had been her one and only. For
one year they had left no doubt in that they were meant to be, that
they would get married one day and have many little Ephrams and Amys.
Had a true love story if there ever was one. And especially, she was
the most interesting subject, because, for some mysterious reason,
Ephram refused to talk about her. "Yeah. That Amy girl."
"Wow," was all the comment Sam gave him, he knew how
much love Ephram had felt for that particular girl, and that girl
only in his entire life. Ephram, at a loss for words aswell, returned
Sam's stare blankly nodding. "Yeah... wow." Sam
also nodded, slowly, feeling utterly uncomfortable in that
conversation. It wasn't like he had much in common with Ephram
Brown, the perfect prodigious son, his step-father's whole pride
and joy. He wasn't jealous, he didn't mind, but he was fourteen
and Ephram twenty-four – he barely knew that man. "And now?
What d'ya think?", was the safest thing to ask, after all he
was interested in Ephram, who still was sort of his big brother, who
he kind of liked judging by all the stories he'd heard of him.
"What do I think?", Ephram repeated still staring
blankly, slowly digesting the words, realizing that telling Sam what
he was thinking required thinking at all, so he slowly
tried to recover from that Amy-shock. "I think..." he
pondered looking over to the exits of the room, preferring anything
to having to talk about her, "I think I'm gonna be sick."
His eyes returned to a Sam raising his eyebrows at him. "That
wasn't a joke. I'd run if I were you." But Sam did the
opposite resting his head on his arms on the counter, looking up at
him tiredly, "did anyone ever tell you that you're really
strange?" Ephram shrugged not bothering to cover his mouth as he
yawned loudly, "they didn't have to. But I was told I was
different once." It hurt him to be reminded of her all over
again, but she would never leave his head. His head, his daydreams,
his nights, his life. She and her words and the things she'd done.
He was tormenting himself each and every day of his life. He couldn't
let go. "Ah... okay." He realized Sam could not understand
that one, he felt he had to defend her, "she meant it nice... I
think. At least she said it when she was trying to apologize."
The memory made him smile as he slipped into it more, "I wanted
to leave, go back to New York, we were only fifteen and just friends,
but she didn't want me to leave. She was so sweet, she was spinning
on that stool, y'know, a swivel chair, she spun herself and then
looked at me, so... I don't know. Somehow nervous, but not really
nervous and started talking so fast... she often does when she's
nervous. I always thought it was cute. I told her, by
the way, that she was strange." The memory excited him, the
memories of her always did. "You mean Amy?", Sam tried to
make sure. "Huh? ... Yeah. Yeah, Amy." The name, then
again, hurt. He sunk to the same position as Sam and looked straight
forward, unconsciously biting his sleeve.
