Chapter 1: Northern Skies
Annabelle Elliot fidgeted in her chair nervously. She felt extremely uncomfortable in the fancy restaurant with its hired piano player and Egyptian-linen tablecloths. Although she used to dine at these kinds of places as if they were fast-food joints, times have changed dramatically for her, and she scolded herself as to why she would even agreed to have dinner here.
"Because she was your best friend," Annabelle thought to herself. "And she seemed really excited to introduce her fiancé to you."
Nonetheless, Annabelle didn't want to sit there by herself. She was surrounded by people who wore a new outfit everyday while she had to dig up a faded, plain black dress. It was one of the few mementos of her heiress past.
"Annabelle?" Annabelle looked up to see someone smiling brightly at her. Lana Musgrove was a beautiful young girl of twenty-five. She had all the upkeeps of a wealthy socialite from the expensive fabrics that clung to her thin body to the professional highlights in her long blonde hair.
Suddenly Annabelle felt shabbier than before compared to her friend but her insecurity turn to curiosity as she watched Lana row her wheelchair toward to the table. Annabelle didn't know what happened and worried for her friend but at the same time she was amazed how beautiful Lana had become over the years even with the wheelchair.
Annabelle bent down awkwardly to give her friend a hug and gave a big smile. "Lana, you look wonderful! How are you? I haven't seen you in forever. We need to catch up right now."
"I agree." Lana and Annabelle looked at each other for a bit before Lana frowned. "You want to know what happened to me, don't you?"
"Yes, I kind of do. But you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Lana reassured her that it was fine but that they should probably wait for Lana's fiancé to arrive first.
"When is he getting here?" Annabelle asked. She always enjoyed meeting people. You never know when you make a new friend.
"Oh, he should be here any minute now." And true enough, a minute later, a man came through the restaurant doors and walked over to Annabelle's table. He was tall and very handsome. His semi-casual clothes that consisted of dark wash jeans and a cashmere sweater didn't work well with the décor of the restaurant but the man's appearance as a whole dripped with loveliness.
Lana grabbed his hand and smiled, "Annabelle, I'd like to introduce you to my fiancé, Frederick Wentworth. Frederick, this is a very good friend of mine, Annabelle Elliot."
Annabelle was all in shock as she looked at the man and he too held the same expression. But Annabelle was quicker to recover. It would've been suspicious if she had kept up with her stare. She stood up, smoothing her slightly wrinkly dress, and stretched out her hand. "Hello, Richard, how do you do?"
Frederick didn't know what else to do but to reach forward also and take her hand. "Good. And you, Ellie?" Annabelle gave a weak smile. But once Annabelle's hand touched Frederick's, a whole flood of images rushed through her head and his: a kiss shared by two people who were both filled with an intense love; a girl draped in a white dress, longing for happiness; a crying girl, depressed with her life; an airplane flying over head; and a car accident that changed the lives of several people forever. They quickly let go as if they were electrocuted and sat down.
Lana was too busy gushing over the details of her upcoming nuptials to notice the over-familiarity of the greetings. In fact, if she had paid any attention at all, Lana would've witnessed a very peculiar spectacle. She was sure that her fiancé and friend had never met each other before. So why were they acting so strange?
But the two supposed strangers sat down quietly, neither looked the other in the eye, and tried to stay as composed as possible with much success. The food was ordered and Annabelle silently listened to Lana's excited plans for her wedding. At one point between talks of bridesmaid dresses and shades of peach for the flower arrangement, Annabelle excused herself from the table, calmly sprinting towards the restroom. There, locked in the luxurious one-person bathroom, she laid her head down on a plush sofa and cried. It had been seven years since she had last seen Frederick Wentworth.
Author's Note: So, after months and months of writer's block, I've decided to write again. I don't know what I'm going to do with "Along the Way" because I just can't sit down and write it. This was just something I sent to a friend and I wanted to see what kind of reception it would get. So, review to let me know what you guys think! And I might just come back for good.