APRIL
Pushover.
I hated the word.
Hated it with a passion.
I remember the number of times that I used the word with condescension whenever I talk of a friend who easily gets swayed by a cheating boyfriends excuses or the disdain that I have for an intern that complains to me about being swamped with work when it probably stems from the fact that he got conned to take on the load of another co-intern.
Pushover.
What an apt description to describe someone who's eager to please, spineless and just does whatever someone tells them.
A word that perfectly describes what I was today as I sit quietly at the back of the car that my mother has sent for me.
I remember my confident words of a week ago.
The way that I said that I'd now do whatever I wanted and yet here I am doing my mothers bidding even if it was totally against my wishes.
Yeah, right.
I hate pushovers because I am forever one myself when it comes to my mother.
I can't help but give a sardonic little smile as I think how my words seemed to be all for naught as my mother once again gained the upper hand by withholding the funding for my new trauma center unless i show up tonight and just like always I just accepted defeat and I let her.
I felt a frisson of self loathing and derision overcome myself as I looked at my reflection from the car's rearview mirror.
I was all perfectly decked out in an emerald green silk gown that belonged on the pages of Vogue and my make up was flawless.
I looked radiant and pretty and glowing and if only my stomach was not churning and my heart was not nervously pounding, one would think I was just going to attend an event that others could only dream of being invited to.
A party where I'd rub elbows with the who's who of the medical world.
A gathering where I'd make small talk with celebrities and models and socialites who are the current toast of the town.
An event where I'd fake a laugh or a smile even if the truth remains that being in that affair was the farthest thing from my mind.
After all, how can I think of anything else when I know that somewhere in that huge ballroom, he was there.
Henry Burton.
Rather than not thinking of his name for the past five years, it was more of a conscious effort on my part not to do so.
I have relegated his name and his face and his memories to the back of my mind and sometimes there are even times when I think to myself if he had ever really existed or if the happiness I felt at the time when I was with him was not made up just so we can keep up appearances that we were indeed the happy, flawless, golden couple.
But there was no denying it.
He indeed made me happy and the only time that I ever really felt that I REALLY mattered in all of my whole pathetic poor little rich girl life was during the time that I was with him.
I can still remember the time when I was 12 and I first met Henry.
I recall my mother resting her hand on my shoulder and announcing "that Henry's parents were very important friends".
All I can remember at that time was how I thought of how impressive his parents must be for my mother to even think that they are as important as her when she has this notion that everybody else compared to her would always just be second best.
However, more than that, I was very, very curious about the mystery surrounding this young boy of 13 who looked so somber and barely spoke a word as he stood right before me.
We spent the rest of the afternoon seated together by the swings in our enormous garden.
Him, looking straight ahead and barely throwing me a second glance while I do the exact opposite as I give him curious looks when I thought he was not looking from under my lashes.
The minutes ticked by in utter silence.
I was too shy to really talk to him but I summoned all of my courage to do so as I cleared my throat and broached the first question.
"So, what school do you go to?"
He moved his head to look at me.
His face breaking out into an embarrassed little smile before he looked down again and scuffed his toe against the ground making the swing move a little as he answered my question.
"I- I really don't know yet. I grew up in London and we just came back here."
He told me in the most to die for British accent.
I felt a pleasant tingle run through me.
At that age, I was enamored of Pride and Prejudice and hearing him speak made me imagine myself as an All American version of Elizabeth Bennett and he, the dashing Fitzwilliam Darcy.
'Oh, ummm- I love London."
I said whimsically in my dreamiest voice but it was as if I have told him that I am the Queen herself, because for the first time ever since I met him, his face breaks out into a giant smile as he breathed a sigh of relief and he started babbling a mile a minute.
He reported how they just arrived back in the States about three weeks ago and how his father wanted to move their corporate headquarters from the UK to New York. He talked about how difficult it was adjusting to a culture that is supposed to be his heritage but how frustrating it is that it is totally unfamiliar. He told me about his difficulties in making friends and how he doesn't know if it was because his accent was so thick or because they are intimidated because he's boarding school raised and always surrounded by an army of bodyguards.
As he speaks, I can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of joy at finally finding a kindred spirit who seems to understand how it is to be different.
A person who is living a life just like mine.
Sheltered.
Ostentatious.
Privileged.
One which is far beyond that of what was really considered as being everyday, ordinary or normal just like the lives that are common for the rest.
From that day on we were inseparable.
We went to the same elite prep school where he became wildly popular with the girls and where his name was always written inside hearts on bathroom stalls (a fact that I teased him mercilessly for until the day we parted ways) and afterwards, we both went to Harvard where he lost his english accent to an all american one and where he still remained a heart throb with the girls but where ironically, he also seemed to disapprove of almost every boy whom I date.
We spent almost every waking hour together.
We studied together, played together, went to boring social functions with our parents together.
I don't know when it happened but as we grew older there was just a point in my life when I stopped looking at him as Henry my best bud and when I started seeing him as just Henry.
A man.
Funny how I can't pinpoint the exact moment when it happened and yet in my heart I also remembered when I knew that something between us has changed.
It was the time when he walked in on me in my apartment on a very ordinary Sunday and as I looked at him, I just suddenly had an epiphany that I want him more than a friend and that all along I knew that he was someone special.
How could I have not seen before what the other girls see?
He was dressed down in khakis and a pullover sweater, his normal weekend attire whenever he comes to see me and yet I was breathless when I looked at him.
For the first time ever, it sank in on me how gorgeous he really looked and how he totally appeared as if he belonged in the pages of a glossy.
Suddenly, I was hit by a sense of melancholy as I recalled the number of years that we've spent together and how much I know him and how well he knows me.
I know that he secretly loves the opera and that he cries at Bridges of Madison County. He knows that I am a bad drunk and that I need to be carried (which he's done a number of times) with just one bottle of beer. He's seen me through every bad break up and I've seen him at his cheesiest when he's trying to pick up a girl.
And at that moment I knew that things would never be the same and I was ecstatic to know that he also feels the same when he confessed to me.
To the delight of our parents, Henry and I became a couple and things were perfect.
HE WAS PERFECT.
So perfect in fact, that he was the only person whom I can share my loneliness and deepest insecurities with without fear of being judged or worse being called a loony.
With him, I never have to explain myself or feel shallow when I feel sadness envelope me when normally, other people would dismiss it and tell me "How can you be lonely, when you have everything and are so lucky?"
He knows me.
He can relate with me.
We were two peas in a pod and in a world where people regard us as being enviably fortunate, he was the only one who understood how money does not always necessarily equate to happiness or satisfaction because at the end of it all, it was love that we desire but which we've never truly gotten.
The kind of love that we were deprived of by our parents but which we irrevocably found in each other.
And for the first time in my life I was happy.
Truly happy.
The kind that comes from the core and that tells me that no matter what happens, everything would still be perfect because I have him.
Forever.
Or so I thought.
Until the day of our wedding and things took a turn for the worse.
He didn't show up and everything then just fell apart.
There, amidst the pitying looks of our guests and the barely concealed whispers of people who were supposed to be friends, I told myself that I would never wish for love ever again because it seems like of it, I would never ever be worthy.
"Miss Kepner? We've reached the hotel".
The voice of my driver breaks through my muddled thoughts.
I took a deep steadying breath as I grabbed my purse but still, I remained seated at the back of the car without making a move.
"Are you ready, Miss?"
He asked me with concern.
I know my driver was asking me if something was bothering me and If I was prepared to get down from the car but all I could think about was Henry and my mother and I gave a nervous little laugh because no way in hell was I anywhere near ready.
Far from it.
But despite that, I still gave him a little nod as I closed my eyes and whispered softly
"Yes, I am ready".
And as he opened the door and I got out, I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders to prepare for battle.
A war that I was not prepared for but had to win, no matter the cost, no matter if it kills me
JACKSON
When life gives you lemons, make lemonades.
It was an adage that Jackson Avery greatly believes in and which he repeats to himself whenever times are hard or whenever he feels depressed.
Times that he's had enough of that could last him a lifetime and yet rather than being bitter and grieving over his bad stroke of luck, Jackson remains positive and upbeat that sooner or later, things would turn around and that in time everything will be alright.
Not that it was always easy to keep this kind of optimism especially when life seemed to only deal him with hard blows most of the time.
He can still clearly remember the feeling of isolation that he felt being raised in a foster home with a family that was kind to him at best but who have never really treated him like he was their own.
He can so vividly envision the hard work and effort that he's put in to support himself through high school and to save up for college but it all went to waste because he got his then girlfriend pregnant.
He can distinctly recall the moment when his son was born and how his happiness felt short lived because the doctor told him that he's got a congenital heart disease which can ail him for a lifetime.
Or that moment when his wife told him that she found a lump in her left breast and how her sudden death has left him at a loss as he carried their six month old son and watched her being buried on the ground.
He can recall all of these moments and yet he chose not to dwell on it.
Rather, he chose to remember how he's still got so much to be thankful for.
Like the fact that he's alive and that he has his son - the only source of his happiness and joy even if most of his worries also stem from him sometimes.
Sighing tiredly, Jackson pushed open the door of his cramped, tired looking apartment and was greeted by the sight of Lexie bent over a stove and checking on what she's cooking.
He smiles slightly as he watches her whip around at the sound of the door opening. She raised the ladle threateningly as if she was about to attack him but once it sank in that it was only him standing there and not an intruder, she breaks out into a grin, her cheeks flushed, her eyes twinkling.
"Jackson! You scared me!"
She said in her high pitched girly voice as she tapped her hand repeatedly against her chest as if trying to slow down her heart beat.
"Oh, is that why you were about to beat me to death with a ladle?"
Jackson said as he put his back pack down while teasing her mischievously.
Lexie gave out a high pitched giggle and there was a tenderness in her gaze as he looked at him that didn't go unnoticed by Jackson.
He knows she likes him.
In a way that is more than friends and more than what he's ready to give her.
But no matter how much he wanted to bring himself to return the feelings and to just take her up on what she's readily offering, somehow he just can't bring himself to.
And it was not without lack of trying.
He knows that she is a great girl.
She is caring and sweet and pretty in that simple, all natural kind of way.
She has helped him through so much with Jaden and the household and even if he appreciates her and everything that she's done for him and his son, there is a part of him that knows that she'll never be the right girl.
She doesn't make his heart sing or his heart ache with longing when he sees her.
To him, she was just Lexie.
A good friend and his deceased wife's best friend.
"Have you had dinner?"
Lexie said in an upbeat tone before turning around to stir the pot that was on top of the stove and the smell of her delicious home cooking filled the room.
"Jaden fell asleep just a couple of minutes ago. He was waiting for you but I told him you might be late so I finally convinced him to go to bed".
She talked with her back to him.
Jackson looked towards the closed door of the room where his son was sleeping.
There was an unmistakable tone of worry that crept into his voice as he thought of him and how sick he was when he left him for his convenience store gig very early this morning.
"How is he?"
He asked in a quiet voice.
Sensing the distress in his voice, Lexie turned to face him with a sympathetic look on her face.
"He's better Jackson but I think you still need to have him checked. Ummm- his medicines have also run out and-".
Jackson nodded gravely in understanding before muttering a muffled curse under his breath.
He knows he's doing the best he could but there are times when he wishes that somehow he can do more to be able to provide his son with the best care.
Times like today when he can't find a permanent job and money was scarce and Jaden was once again sick.
Lexie walked over to where he is.
She rubbed his back sympathetically as she talked to him in a soothing voice as if trying to chase all his worries away.
"There you go again. Don't blame yourself. You're doing enough. You wake up at 5 to cashier at the 7-11, you do odd jobs for Mrs. Womack , you deliver parcels part time. Gosh, if you keep at this I'm worried that you'd be the one who'd fall sick. If that happens, what would happen to Jaden? What would happen to me?"
Lexie posed the last question tentatively in an almost whisper. A habit formed perhaps by being rejected by Jackson not one time too many but still, she can't help herself from trying again and again.
Jackson heard the longing in her voice but he chose to disregard it.
Instead, he stood up to ruffle her hair affectionately.
A wide smile that didn't quite reach his eyes now pasted on his face as he forced himself to not show how burdened he feels over the fact that his son was sick once again and at a time when his savings is almost close to being depleted.
"Lexie, you know I need the money".
He said slowly as if he was talking to a child.
Lexie gave a little pout as she looked up at him. There was a frustrated look on her face as she replied to him.
"I know! And I said I have some saved up. Why won't you just use it?"
She replied as if things are just that simple and Jackson just gave her a soft smile.
There was a kindness in his eyes as he spoke to her that was almost enough to overwhelm her.
"Keep it. I know you need it too. I'd find a way. Besides, I got this gig tomorrow at The Century for this exclusive event. It would be enough to tide us over. One of the wait staff fell ill and they were short of a person so Charles recommended me. "
Lexie's eyes widened.
"REALLY? That super exclusive country club where celebrities go and where people dressed in all those luxury brands hang out? WHOA! What if you meet George Clooney?"
And Jackson lets out a loud laugh at that.
Lexie's face immediately brightened.
She loves making him happy.
He very rarely was and she feels that he deserves to be nothing less than that.
"I'd be sure to get an autograph for you"
He said humorously and she looked up at him with such love in her eyes that Jackson felt uncomfortable and he had to look away.
Quickly changing the subject, he walks over to the stove and opens the pot of stew that Lexie was just cooking before turning around to once again face her.
"Thanks for dinner. I can take it from here Lexie. It's late and it's better if you go home. I can just probably drop Jaden at your shop tomorrow so that you can do some work even if he's with you".
For a second, he saw her face fall.
The disappointment clearly evident in her eyes which she tried to hide behind the façade of nonchalance as she nodded and gave him a smile.
"Right. I know you're tired and you need to rest too".
She puts on a forced smile on her face and she reluctantly gathers her things and prepares to leave while Jackson feels totally like a cad as he watches her.
"Lexie-"
It might have been guilt that made him call out to her. He saw her hand freeze on the door handle but she remained with her back turned away from him when he uttered her name.
"Thank You."
He said with much sincerity.
It was the only thing that he can think of to say which encompasses the affection and apology that he feels for her and towards her and the meaning was not lost on Lexie as she finally turned around to face him.
"You know I'd do anything for you Jackson. ANYTHING".
And with one last sad smile at him, she was out the door and was gone. Her words hanging softly in the air as Jackson thought to himself that perhaps, it was foolish to want so much when he can just settle for somebody like Lexie,
Especially when she was just right within his reach.
Especially when she's always been within his grasp.
APRIL+JACKSON
APRIL'S POV
The huge ballroom of The Century looked magnificent with its decorations.
With its glittering crystal chandeliers and high ceilings plus its modern furnitures, one cannot deny that there is a quiet elegance to the whole place that screams of exclusivity and class that seemed to only be reserved for the privileged few.
However, tonight there was an added air of snobbishness that permeated the whole room as I look at the who's who of the New York elite all gathered together in one place.
There were men in black tie and women in fabulous gowns and cocktail dresses.
There were well known surgeons, models, celebrities, politicians and noble businessmen who all smile at me and call out my name like they were my very best friends from the moment I entered even if the truth remains that I don't know who the hell they are or give a damn as to where I've probably met them.
I plastered on what felt like my 103rd fake smile of the night as yet another bimbo waylaid me with questions of who I was wearing (as if people could be worn!) and how I looked "uber fab" with my updo.
I mouthed platitudes and smiled and said all the right things but deep inside I wish that I could just tell her to get lost so that I could just go home and hide there until the party has ended.
I was already thinking of ways on how to do just that amidst her droning of how the new collection of Chanel for this season was just "sooooo divine" and how it was an abomination that she was 92nd in the waitlist for the new Hermes bag when the crowd parted and I saw HIM.
He was wearing a tuxedo that fitted him in all the right places and he was still as good looking as when I last saw him.
He was smiling and relaxed as he talked to a group of people, champagne glass in hand, a far cry from the bundle of nerves that I have suddenly become the moment that I laid my eyes on him.
I watched him as he stood from across me. He was still unaware of my presence as he leaned down to listen to an elderly man who was whispering in his ear and he lets out a loud guffaw after.
I wished I could have seen instead that he was hurting.
That he was remorseful and dejected and miserable the way that I exactly feel at this moment five years after he has left me.
I had imagined this moment many times in my head.
Of the time when we'd come face to face again and he would beg for my forgiveness and I would let him grovel before I turn my back on him and tell him I'd never take him back while he cries at my feet.
I have it all planned out in my head before I went here but nothing had prepared me for this.
For this overwhelming feeling of melancholy and emotion that suddenly engulfed me the moment that I laid my eyes on him.
Just a glimpse and I was back to the bumbling, love struck schoolgirl with a crush who was head over heels for him.
And that was when he turned his head and he saw me.
The smile that he had on was still on his face when our eyes met.
I saw the glint of recognition in his eyes when he looked at me and as we stare at each other from across the room, I saw the bedimpled grin that he had on slowly disappear to be replaced with one of somberness.
What was that on his face?
Was that regret?
Anguish?
Happiness?
I can barely form a coherent thought as my eyes remained glued to his as if I was suddenly rendered powerless even if I wanted to look away.
Time ceased to exist.
It was as if everything just faded into the background.
At that moment there was only him and me and it was as if the years of hurt and pain just resurrected but at the same time it felt as if it also melted away.
Henry.
I imagined the name passing from my lips like a chant or a plea but I also wanted to shout out at him and curse him for ruining our perfectly happy little life and taking my dreams along with him when he left me.
I sensed the people in the ballroom noticing what's happening.
I heard whispers passing on from one person to the next as they witness a scene that would surely be the talk of the town the next day and I can't help but think that the people in our circle might be such big snobs but they are still as much of a gossip like any other commoner.
However, despite the tension rippling around us in the room Henry and I continued to stare at each other.
My eyes curious and inquisitive as I repressed the urge to ask him the question that I have long been wanting to ask ever since he walked away from me.
Why did you leave me?
Do you still think of me as much as I do about you?
And suddenly that's when I felt the hurt and pain come back with a vengeance that it almost threatened to overwhelm me.
I felt tears stinging the back of my eyes as I look at him make his way slowly towards me.
I know I must get out of there.
I had to.
Otherwise, I'd bawl in his arms and sob and cry with all these people watching me and I can't let that happen if I wanted to keep my pride and my sanity.
Giving out the best acting of my life ever, I gave a bedazzling grin to the person I was talking to before making an inane excuse about checking on the food as I turned on my heel to escape via the kitchen.
I can hear him calling out to me.
"April! April, wait!"
But I continued walking.
I pretended that I didn't hearing anything even if my heart was pounding along to the rhythm of his quickening footsteps and in time with his shouts that are quickly becoming closer and sounding a little bit louder.
I pushed open the door towards the service exit.
My head only filled with thoughts of disappearing and how I should get completely far away from him.
I felt the impact of bumping into someone even before I saw him.
I gasped and looked down at my dress in shock as the unmistaken stain of red wine splashed across my chest and all over my skirt before it gradually spread as it seeped in.
"Shi-! Oh Shi-! I didn't mean to. I'm Sorry – Really – Shi-!"
The waiter whom I bumped into held on to his curses as he shouted but he had his head bowed down as he looked at the damage he's caused me.
His tone was frantic and nervous and as I looked at my dress with my mouth wide open in shock, he started swiping at my chest and my belly probably to dry me off or to remove the stain away.
My eyes flashed in annoyance.
My temper rising to the fore at the audacity of this man to touch me in places that not even men whom I've dated once had even dared to touch.
"WHAT THE HELL!"
I took a deep breath to start an all out rant and to put him in his place.
However, the words died out on my mouth as he lifted his head and I saw his face and I was rendered speechless by how gorgeous he is.
Especially those eyes.
God, those eyes.
He was a stranger to me and yet he seemed vaguely familiar.
As if we've met somewhere at some time but even before I can think back of where or how, I accidentally turned my head and saw Henry already pushing the door that separates us apart.
I was consumed with alarm.
My mind working overtime frantically as I thought of ways on how I can get out of this bind as I turned my head from him and then back to the stranger before me.
"I'm really sorry! Please let me pay for the dry cleaning. I really need this -"
I see the strangers lips moving but his words simply washed over me as all I can think about is how to stop Henry in his tracks even before he gets to me.
"April, Please!"
Henry shouted out in annoyance as I watch him take the last 10 steps that were keeping us apart.
Like a deer caught in headlights, I knew I was trapped.
It must have been the adrenaline but the next thing I knew, I was grabbing the guy before me by the collar and as if all my logic and good sense has suddenly flown out the window, I planted my lips on his.
"Christ, APRIL!"
I heard Henry's stern shout from somewhere near me.
However, that was the last coherent thought in my head as after the initial shock of just standing still, wide eyed, after feeling my mouth on his, the stranger in my arms was now responding to my kiss by reciprocating it passionately.
He kissed me thoroughly.
His mouth warm against mine as he lingered on my lips slowly.
His lips moved against mine coaxingly.
Wildly.
As if he was memorizing my feel and remembering every line and contour of my mouth and I felt a fluttering in my stomach as I moaned softly against his lips.
I must have been really into the kiss because I had my eyes closed and from behind them I saw stars.
However, as he slowly broke away from me, I opened my eyes reluctantly and let out a gasp as it slowly sank in on me that it was not stars that I was seeing but rather the flash of cameras that came from the throngs of reporters that were now fanatically surrounding us.
DAMN IT.
When did the paparazzi get here?
I saw Henry's assistants quickly controlling the crowd as much as they could and I watched him being led away to safety by one of them.
I saw him dragging his feet and looking back for me but even before he could get to where I was, he was already pulled away towards the exit and his worried look was the last that I saw before the stranger and I were mobbed.
Microphones were being shoved at our face.
There were incoherent questions that were being thrown at us left and right.
"What is your association with April Kepner?"
"Are you not getting back together with Henry Burton?"
"We heard that you're engaged again?"
"Who is this man and why are you kissing him?"
I was reeling from the maliciousness and prying tone of the questions.
I was stupid and didn't think things through and this is the price I had to pay for acting on impulse.
I felt my heart racing. My mind drawing a blank as panic eats away at me as I looked for the nearest escape route to avoid the harassment that I am currently facing.
"He looks like a waiter. Does your mother know that you are slumming it?"
The question was discriminating and debasing.
Instinctively, I whipped my head to look up at the stranger beside me.
I only had a glimpse of the hard set of his jaw before he grabbed me by the hand and pulled me close to him.
I stood still in surprise as the impact brought me real close to him. My face is now right across his chest and as I tried to move away his hands pressed tenderly against my back and that was where he kept me.
I sensed him using his other free arm to shove reporters away and to shield me from the cameras that were spitefully recording every move we make.
His unexpected move surprised the paparazzis.
They stood still in shock for a moment and it bought Henry's personal assistant some time to contain them so that we had the chance to run away.
I barely even know where we're going.
My feet just following him blindly until finally I couldn't hear another sound and that was when I angrily broke away from him.
"Now, what?"
I said sarcastically as I brushed my hair away from my face as I take in our surroundings.
"Where's your car?"
I asked as it was the only logical question to ask since he has brought us to a fairly secluded parking lot.
He took a deep breath as if he was extremely annoyed by me.
However, he didn't say a word.
He only pointed to a dilapidated looking motorbike and that was when I realized that he was the guy I met a week ago in my office buildings parking lot.
However, damn if I'd let him know that I'd remember a guy like him.
"That's it? That's your game plan? To make me ride-"
I waved my hand around his vehicle as If I was at a loss as to what to call it.
"That piece of junk to get me away from here?"
He must have finally snapped because he looked at me with an obviously exaggerated smile as he leaned close to me and I moved back to get away from him.
"Sorry princess. It was not in my plan to rescue a bitchy damsel tonight so apologies if I didn't bring my carriage".
My cheeks reddened at that.
I gave a haughty toss of my head as he slowly straightened up without another word and walked away from me to get on his bike and to put on his helmet.
"What? Are you getting on or what?"
He shouted at me.
I can feel my blood boiling.
No one has ever dared to talk to me that way in my entire lifetime and my pride was stinging that the first time ever would have to be with a guy like him.
"THANK YOU"
I said with exaggerated politeness.
"But I can just call on my driver and - DAMN!"
I muttered a muffled expletive as I saw the throng of paparazzis once again making its way towards me in a pack as if they were a bunch of rabid hyenas.
He turned his head to look towards the direction of where I'm looking.
He then looked again at me and gave me a smile that even without him saying out loud seems to scream of the words "I told you so" before he drawled back arrogantly at me.
"You were saying?"
"DAMN!"
I lifted my skirts as I straddled the seat behind him.
I thought I saw a glimpse of a genuine smile of amusement on his face as he threw me another helmet and I frantically jammed it on my head so that it would fit my snazzy French twist.
"You ready?"
He asked once I was done and as i shouted yes above the roar of the engine I would never even have imagined that at that moment, I was not only just saying yes to him taking me away from the place of my distress but also to the opportunity to let go of my past so that I can finally move towards a future where I can start all over again with him.
AUTHORS NOTE:
How are you guys liking it so far?
Feeling it yet?
I know the writing style is different as i thought of writing it in the first person for April but personally, i'm excited about it.
Reviews as always are much appreciated.
