Anger Management – Chapter 4

Anastasia

Walking down the streets of New York leading to my hotel, I take delight in the fact that I'm doing just that; walking the streets of New York. I'm home.

Well, not really home as I've never lived in New York. But still…I'm walking on U.S soil. My entire body is bubbling with sheer bliss, I almost feel high. Not that I would have any experience with that feeling, but I can imagine this is how it feels to be high.

For the last four years I've been on the road, travelled from country to country, reporting on world news. To be accurate, I've been on the road for a total of five years, starting with a year of travelling from state to state reporting on Obama's campaign.

I don't regret any of it. On the contrary, I have loved every single second of it. The things I've seen, the things I've experienced.

I've shook hands with the President of the United States! Well, he wasn't president yet when we shook hands, but still…I've shook the Presidents hand. I've seen the sun set and rise in a bundle of countries. I've seen most of the sights I spent my teenage years reading and dreaming about. I've heard so many different languages spoken around me and have picked up a few words in most of them.

It's been exciting, challenging and absolutely wonderful!

"May I ask what made you decide to leave the road, Miss Steele?"

The question I got towards the end of my latest interview suddenly pops back into my head and I sigh, my previous fantastic mood suddenly darkened.

Yeah, what was it that made me decide to leave? I shrug my shoulders as I keep walking. I don't know for sure. I can't explain it.

Maybe it was the way everyone had kept living their lives while I was away. All of the friends I still have contact with back home have moved forward; building homes, careers, families – a life. And what have I done? Collected experiences?

In a way I envy them. Who could have guessed that I, Anastasia I-wanna-see-the-world Steele, would envy those that stayed behind?

It's not that I regret taking the opportunity to see the world. To travel. To go chase the dream I always nourished. I have loved every second of it, I really have.

But still…even though I didn't quite expect the rest of my world to stand still while I was away fulfilling my dreams, I didn't expect it to move quite so fast.

I sigh as I look up and see a couple strolling hand in hand a few steps ahead of me, completely engulfed in each other and oblivious to the world around them.

I want that. Experiences don't keep you warm at night. They don't whisper comforting words and wipe your tears away when you're sad and crying.

I guess I'm finally ready for everything that Logan offered when he proposed after graduation. Although, it still isn't his eyes I see when I dream about my future. The children I imagine having one day doesn't have his blonde hair.

I did the right thing to turn his proposal down, because the eyes I see when I dream about my future aren't blue as the sky – they're gray as steel. I know who they belong to and I also know that they're often accompanied by a smirk that is most definitely irresistible.

I cast one last, longing glance at the couple still strolling hand in hand before I enter the lobby of my hotel.

I guess that's why I e-mailed him, I think to myself as I wait for the elevator to arrive. Because I see him in my dreams and I need to see if my dreams bear any resemblance to reality.

Stepping into the elevator I lean against the wall. I got to thinking about you earlier today, I recall the carefully selected words as I lean against the cold walls. What a big, fat lie. I got to thinking about him months ago, even years maybe.

I smile to myself. I know exactly when it was that he came sneaking back into my mind. It was in Germany a little over a year ago; I was having a few days off and had decided to visit the countryside. As I was walking along a street in a small village – I was a little lost I have to admit – with my nose stuck to a map, trying to figure out where I was and where I was going, I accidentally took a small step onto the street and was almost smashed by a rusty little car speeding by.

The car missed me by a few inches and as I stood there, on the side of the road trying to gather myself from the shock almost being run-over, the man in the passenger seat leaned his head out the window and yelled at me in German. I didn't understand a single word.

And then. Right there on the side of the street, I fell into a fit of giggles as I remembered his words.

You know what? I'll help you practice. We can start tomorrow; you'll stand in the middle of the street and I will drive straight at you, screaming in a foreign language

At that very moment I wanted to pick up the phone and call him. I wanted to tell him about the man that had just drove straight at me and then screamed at me in a foreign language. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized, that wasn't all I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him about everything I'd seen, everything I'd learned and experienced. I wanted to share it with him.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath as the elevator doors open to my floor. A quick glance at my watch confirms that I still have time to take a quick shower and freshen up on my make-up before I need to get going to meet him for coffee.

There are a million butterflies roaming around in my stomach as I think about it. I haven't seen him since…well, since I broke his heart that night about six years ago.

I throw my purse on the bed and head towards the shower, determined not to think about how we left things. How I left things. I don't need to be any more nervous or anxious than I already am. Besides, if he was still angry and upset about that, he wouldn't have agreed to meet me for coffee, right?

To satisfy the pressing need to occupy my hands with something as I sit and wait for him to arrive, I am slowly tearing a napkin into tiny little pieces.

What if he doesn't show up?

I close my eyes and concentrate on inhaling as I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. If he doesn't show up, I think as I slowly exhale and then inhale another deep breath, I'll just forget all about those dark eyes and brown-haired kids from my dreams and move on.

Determined to do just so, I exhale and open my eyes just in time to see him stepping through the door. My heart falters and stops beating for a split of a second.

Oh my. He's looking gorgeous.

Suddenly very self-conscious, I run a hand over my hair to make sure it's in place and take a quick look down at my clothes. I wish I'd worn the pink sweater.

He looks different somehow. More mature, confident…and undeniably sexy. I blush and quickly shift my gaze to the table and the torn napkin in front of me.

When I feel I'm in control of myself and my face-color again, I dare to look up and my eyes meet his as he is walking over with quick, determined steps. There's a look in his eyes that I don't recognize and for some reason it's making me feel even more uncomfortable and nervous.

"Miss Steele" A tiny little smirk creeps onto his lips as he utters the first words we've spoken to each other in six years.