Wladimir's point of view:
Dear Adaline,
I strike out the words with my fountain pen. They sound wrong. The black ink stares back at me. I screw the piece of paper with my left hand before throwing the ball into the pin.
Mоя любовь,
That is more fitting, I decide before I continue with my letter.
Adaline's point of view:
The next couple of days, weeks and months are a total mess. I cry myself to sleep, I have no energy for anything and I work as much as possible. I bury my head in work and my study. It's the only time I almost don't think of him. It's the only time his eyes don't flash up in front of my inner eye. I however only operate non-risky patients, because I don't trust myself anymore. If I caused myself so much pain by ending my relationship with Wlad, then maybe I can hurt other people, too. So I operate on people with standard issues, I stopped taking patients with certain risks such as diabetes or high blood pressure or any other pre-existing illness. Because I don't trust my 200 million pound worth hands. Not anymore.
"Clamp," I say and feel the instrument a second later in my hand. I clamp a blood vessel just as this sour smell fills my nostrils again. I gulp, I've been smelling that subtle sour smell for three weeks now and I know exactly what it means. And who it is.
I look up from the open torso in front of me and see my two interns standing across me. A tall blonde and a bulky ginger head. I don't know their names. I call them one and two. "You," I say, causing them both to wince. "Get over here, both of you." I say causing them both to nearly fall over their feet when they walk over to me. I rarely let interns do anything in my OR because I tend to have the most risky patients laying open in front of me. But those times have changed - and the whole hospital has noticed that.
"Hold that." I tell the blonde, pointing at the clamp that Rose was holding. She's my favourite surgical nurse.
Rose frowns at me, "Dr. Bolton,"
I let the scalpel that I was holding fall into a stainless steel plate, "I need to talk to you for a moment."
"Now?" She asks me confused.
Yes now, otherwise I might throw up in my own OR. "Yes." I say and Rose lets number one hold the clamp.
I walk over to the exit, the furthest point away from all the other nurses and anaesthetist, who looks up from his word puzzle for a second as we move. I watch Rose walking over to me. "You need to switch up your vitamins. Those you are taking are not working. You need a higher dosage of fish oil and iron." I tell her in a whisper. She's clearly not consuming enough by herself. She might hurt her embryo if she doesn't change her diet.
"Vitamins?" She asks me confused, shaking her head.
Shit, she doesn't want the others to know. Well, they can't hear us due to Beethoven's sounds anyway. "Your pregnancy vitamins are not working for you, Rose. You need to find different once or take extra fish oil and iron."
"What?!" She asks me confused, her hazel eyes are wide.
"You smell sour. It's... subtle, don't worry. No one smells that but me. Your body chemistry has changed, the hormones are to blame. You smell different. You've been smelling this way for three weeks." I say into her welled up eyes.
"I'm pregnant?" She whispers back.
She didn't know?! "About three weeks. Congratulations." I say before turning around to give my patient the attention he deserves. I said what I needed to say and I sincerely hope she's going to change her diet. Otherwise I might have to kick her out of my OR and that would be a shame, because this women is a dream to work with.
I wrap my hand around the mahogany locker door as I feel my heavy heart beating in my chest. How could she not know? How could Rose not notice the changes in her body? I noticed when my period didn't come right away. My body is like a clockwork. I'm always on time. I nearly died when my period didn't start punctual.
Flashback:
My heart is pumping in my chest so heavily. I don't know how this could happen. I am always on time. My period never comes late. Never!
I stop in front of the black granite L-shaped countertops as he cooks breakfast for us. Porridge with homemade compote.
"What's wrong?" Wlad asks me.
He picks my moods up faster than I can react to them. "I'm late."
"Then you should better get dressed. You don't want to be more late than you already are."
"No, I'm late." I say, meeting his grey orbs. "As in late. My period didn't come."
He stops stirring the porridge in the pot, "What?"
"Five days. My period should have started five days ago."
"Well maybe that's false alarm. Has it ever been late?"
"No, my period is like a clockwork."
"Not once?"
"Not once."
"Alright." He turns off the stove before walking over to me. "Then I guess one of us has to go shopping and it can't be you."
I gulp. It would be a disaster if anyone saw me buying a pregnancy test. The news would reach my father faster than a wildfire.
He places his hands on my shoulders, "I'll go."
"Do you know which kind to get?"
"There's more than one?" He asks me back confused.
I nod, "There are traditional ones and digital ones. There are early pregnancy tests and normal pregnancy tests."
"Which one do you want me to buy?"
"I don't know."
I am a total wreck as I wait for him to return. My hands are shaking without even taking the test. I can't be pregnant. I'm only nineteen! I can't have a baby, not when I want to heal Parkinson's. Not when I want to win a Nobel prize. This can't be happening. It just can't.
The doors glide open and I see Wlad walking in with a plastic bag that's full. Without a word he walks over to me and pours the content onto the glass coffee table that's between the beige couch on which I'm sitting and the two navy armchairs.
"How many did you get?! The whole store?!" I ask him shocked. There are twelve tests laying on the coffee table. Twelve!
"One of each. I thought maybe one could be wrong. I mean they all say 99% correct. But 1% could be false."
I bury my hands in my scalp, "Maybe I should just have a lab work done at the hospital."
"So you sent me out for nothing?! Do you know how the cashier looked at me? She gave me a knowing grin. You are doing these tests now."
"Okay, but I'll need a plastic cup first."
He frowns at me, "Why would you need that?"
"I won't pee on all twelve sticks! I'll pee into a cup and we stick them in there."
"Right."
We sit with our backs pressed against the free standing tub in his white marbled bathroom. All twelve pregnancy tests are laying on the sink as we wait for them to develop. Gosh, this is a disaster.
"What are you thinking?" Wlad asks me. We haven't talked about children. I mean we did, but in the far far future. Not now. Not with nineteen!
I look at him and see his grey eyes focused on me. "I can't be pregnant, Wlad. I know you want children, but not like this. Not by accident. Not when I'm nineteen. I have my whole life-" I stop as he embraces me tightly. It is only then that I notice the tears that are running down my cheeks.
"It's okay."
"No, it's not. What if I'm pregnant? I can't be pregnant."
"So, then what?" He asks me softly, loosening the embrace around me.
"If I am, then I'll remove it."
He lets go of my body, "What?"
"I'll have an abortion. This is too soon. We are not ready for kids." I look at him. I know I sound selfish, but I can't have kids before I healed Parkinson's. I want to be remembered. Not just by the name Bolton or pretty photos, but by something significant. Like healing Parkinson's.
He licks his lips, "Okay."
"Okay?" I ask him surprised. This is against his belief. Against his deepest feelings. I know he wants children and he'd love to be a father right now, but... not like this. I am not ready.
"Yes. We'll get it removed if you are pregnant. I'm going to stay with you every step of the way."
He's always with me. "Wlad,"
"Yes?"
"Thank you." I whisper before kissing him softly. We break apart as the timer goes off. Time for the truth.
He rises from the floor first before offering me his hand. I take it and he pulls me up with ease. My whole body started shaking again. I can't be pregnant. I can't.
Because I don't know if I could really kill our baby.
He wraps his arm around me as we walk over to the sink, right to the twelve pregnancy tests. "It's going to be okay." He whispers to me.
No it's not. Not when I really am pregnant. I bite my lip and turn around, hiding my face in his hard chest. "I can't look at them." I whisper. I am a coward, I know. But this is the hardest thing I've ever done. "You look." I tell him as I feel his arm embracing me, holding me tight to his chest.
"Negative." He breathes out and I swear I hear his heart cracking.
I turn around and look at the twelve tests. All negative. Negative. It was false alarm. I'm not pregnant. I'm not pregnant! I grin, thank god! I didn't know what I'd do if I were. But I'm not.
I look over at Wlad and see a kind of sadness in his eyes I've never seen before. He wanted them to be positive. He wanted me to be pregnant. He wants a baby.
He gulps, "Well, I guess now you don't have to worry anymore." He says before shoving the pregnancy tests into the wooden bin with one swipe movement. I watch the pregnancy tests falling into the bin. They saved my life.
But I feel like they shattered Wlad's.
End of Flashback
"Adaline,"
I turn around at the sound of my name and see Sophie standing next to me.
"Are you alright? I've been calling you for the last five minutes." Her blue eyes are worried.
I smile at her, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just lost a patient today." I lie with a shrug.
She licks her lips, "Good thing we're going to workout now. You need endorphins in your body after a night like this." She says to me.
I close my locker and lock it with my thumb before following her out of the changing room.
"Rose is pregnant. She told me to tell you." Sophie says as we walk down the hallway.
"I know."
"She told the whole hospital that you knew before she knew herself. Her husband and she were trying for three years. They had already given up hope... and then you came with your fine nose." Sophie chuckles, "You have a new nickname."
"Really?" I ask as we walk out of the hospital. It's an early spring day, the remnants of the hard winter are still there, but the sun is boxing through it. I love days like these!
"Baby-whisperer."
"More like pregnancy-oracle." I counter.
She grins at me, "Oh, that's good! I'll tell that Rose the next time I see her. Trust me, you'll have clients in no time!"
I force myself to smile because what she said was actually funny. "I thought we could try something new today."
"You want to betray Max? That man won't be happy about it."
I don't give a fuck about Max. "Krav Maga. Ever heard of it?"
"Saw it in a movie." Sophie says. I have no idea who is but I think my Mom once worked with a woman that called herself that way. I'm not sure, I don't really pay attention to who my mom works with. They are too many. "That's heavy stuff. Even more intense than Cross fit. You sure you want to do that?" Sophie asks me as we reach the car.
"I thought I'd give it a chance." Now that Dean is watching me, I feel less safe. I grab Sophie's gym bag and unlock the car. She gets into the passenger's seat while I open the trunk. I walk around the car and stop at the open trunk. I let go of our gym bags and hear them falling to the floor with a dull sound. There are leather travel bags in my trunk. Many leather travel bags in different sizes and colours. Black, cognac, beige, dark brown... I feel my legs starting to shake. My stuff. He gave me my stuff back.
I fall down to my knees like the last three months of recovery didn't happen at all. Tears start streaming down my face like the night when I ended things with him.
"Hey, you know maybe our new trainer is going to be even hotter than Max. Not that this is possible." Sophie's voice fills my ears but my sobbing is too strong to respond to her. "Della?" She asks me as I don't respond.
I hear her opening the door of the passenger seat before suddenly her slim arms embrace me. "Della..." she whispers, kneeing next to me. She rubs my back, trying to calm me but no gesture can ease the heartache. "Sh, I know it hurts..."
She has no idea how much. This is like nothing I ever felt before. Every time I think I took a step forward something reminds me of him and I fall backwards. It feels like I will never heal. I feel like this pain will forever remain.
I inhale deeply, I have to get the control back over my life. I can't break out in tears whenever something reminds me of him. I can't. I have to focus. I have an aim. I will heal Parkinson's. I will!
I slowly lift myself up and stare at all the leather bags.
"I assume he put them in there?" Sophie's sweet voice asks me.
I nod, "My stuff." I bite on my lower lip as it starts to shake again.
"He's three months late."
No, it just took him three months to find the strength to let me go. But he did. And he wants me to know that. He wants me to know I can move on.
Like I would ever move on from him. I will never find someone else. I will never love anyone else. Not like him.
Sophie picks our gym bags from the floor and throws them into the trunk, onto the many leather travel bags. "I'll drive." She says holding out her hand.
It's probably for the best. I hand her the key and watch her close the trunk. I didn't even realise that I had so much stuff at his place.
She gets into the driver's seat while I remain rooted, my eyes still on the trunk. He knew I'd see that the morning after my night shift. He was here. But nothing smells of him. I miss him. I miss him badly.
"Come on, get in." Sophie says and I get into my car. I've never let anyone else drive my car. Except for Wlad.
Another wave of pain rushes through my system as Sophie drives out of the parking lot. I feel her left hand reaching out for mine as she navigates through the early London traffic with ease.
"It'll get better." She promises me, squeezing my hand.
"When?" I ask her back, hearing my weak voice.
"I don't know. One day."
One day. It feels like one day will never come. It's been three months and it hurts like it happened yesterday.
Wladimir's point of view:
I meet the ground for the third time in the last ninety minutes. It's the third time a woman has brought me to the training mat. But that's okay because it's Gabriella Bolton. The only woman I'd allow to. Nevertheless, she's had it easy with me over the last few weeks because I was unconcentrated.
I'm still heartbroken.
"Hey, are you alright?" Gabriella asks me after I've risen to my feet again. "This is the third time I knocked you over. I mean, I'm happy about it but I'd be more happy about it if I knew I earned it."
I walk over to the left corner of the boxing ring and pick up a towel that I throw into her direction. My best friend catches it with ease. "I'm fine."
She wipes off the sweat that has collected over the last hour and a half as she walks over to me. "You sure? Troy said you'd be the same with him and I know you're taking him harder than me... So, what's wrong?" She stops across me.
"Nothing." I pick up the water bottle and nearly empty the one litre bottle in one go.
"Wlad, you can talk to me. I'm your best friend."
What am I suppose to say? Your daughter broke my heart three months ago? This morning I dropped her stuff off to give her the illusion that I let her go? I can't let her go. I will never let her go. She's my soulmate. Adaline Bolton is my soulmate - and her parents have no idea. "Ella," I sigh. I can't talk about her. It'll only break my heart even more, if that's possible.
"It's been going on for a while. I won't drop this."
My best friend reminds me of the love of my life. Of course she does, she's her mother after all. But I can't tell her that.
"Okay, how about we meet after the shower for dinner? We can go to the pub you like so much." She suggests.
"Ella, you have children that wait for you at home."
She waves with her hand, "They have a father. They'll be fine without me for a few hours. So, what do you say? A burger and chips with a nice cold beer?"
How can I say no to the gaze that she has given my soulmate? How can I say no to the woman that has brought her into this world? That's right, I can't. "Alright. In five minutes at the entrance."
She smiles at me. Even her smile reminds me of Adaline. "Make that ten. I have to wash my hair as well. Those strands take forever to dry."
I nod. Della's hair took forever to dry as well.
"Great." With that she turns around and walks away from me. I watch her move, not because I feel attracted to my best friend, but she looks just like her daughter when she moves.
Adaline's point of view:
My iPhone beeps in the middle of the night and I look at the screen. It's an address in East Putney. I feel the adrenaline rising in my veins. Another race.
I can't say no to them. The adrenaline keeps me going. It makes me forget. About my problems. About my life. About Wlad. It makes me normal. For that minute, sometimes two, I feel normal. I have to go.
I quickly get changed into a leather outfit before rushing out of my room. I don't care if I get caught or in how much trouble I'm going to get. I have to go. There's no other way.
It's half past midnight, so everyone is fast asleep in the Bolton household. I rush into the kitchen and open the first drawer next to the light switch. It reveals all the keys to the cars that are parked in our underground parking lot. I pick out the white Ferrari without hesitating. That car always makes me win. Always.
I rush down the hallway before walking downstairs. I pass our cinema, gaming room and wine cellar before walking into the underground garage. I switch on the lights and get greeted by thirty five luxurious cars. My father has an addiction - that I share. I walk past cars by Bugatti, Maserati, Porsche, Ferrari, Tesla, Lamborghini, Mercedes, Audi, Bentley and Rolls Royce before finally stopping at the Ferrari section. Five different Italian beauties are standing in front of me. One day I'm going to take the Ferrari GTO 250 out. My Dad bought this beauty a few weeks ago for 43 million pounds. It's an actual race car that was used in the sixties. He fell in love with her when he saw her getting auctioned in LA. It was a total coincidence that he was there, but man my father doesn't let go of something he wants. He had his grip around my mother for twenty one years now.
I unlock the white Ferrari convertible and get into it. I don't even have to adjust anything as I share my father's height. I start the car and the beauty comes alive with a loud growl. My fingers wrap around the wheel. I love that car!
Wladimir's point of view:
I watch her cheek flush in a pink as the alcohol starts to show an effect on her. She's on her third glass of Chardonnay. I have managed to keep my mouth shut over dinner as much as possible. We're in one of my favourite pubs in whole London that's right at the Thames. The river boat is a nice place to enjoy the sunset at and chat away the night. As always when we're here, Ella and I sit on the second floor, outside on the balcony with the river Thames right across us.
I always wanted to be here with Adaline.
But that never happened.
"Okay, spill. What's going on with you?" Gabriella asks, taking another sip of her white wine. "Because if I drink any more I will be too drunk to remember anything you ever said."
I look away from her smirk and at the river across us. There are people sitting on benches below us. Some even took photos of us and probably uploaded it on social media with the hashtag crisis or affaire or whatever else they think of. Over the years the media has constructed thousands of affaire theories between Gabriella and me, because we go to pubs together more often than with Troy. The media tried to rip them apart for the last two decades, but they have nothing on them. Troy and Gabriella's love is too great to be ripped apart by anyone.
I used to think the same way about Adaline's and mine love. But I was taught otherwise.
By the fucker that killed my mother. Parkinson's.
"Wlad,"
I swing my head back at the sound of my name and meet Gabriella's chocolate brown orbs. I can't lie to those orbs. I never could. "Alright, I'm going through some stuff right now."
She leans back, "It took you three glasses of wine, a burger and a pound of sweet potato chips to admit that." She points out.
"And one beer." I add with a smirk.
She returns my smirk, "What kind of stuff are we talking about? And don't put this on work. Work has nothing to do with this."
I taught her well, she knows how to read me. "I... I was in a relationship and now I'm no longer in a relationship."
Her eyes soften at my words before they fall into sadness. "You're heartbroken."
I gulp, "Yes." I admit. I never wanted to talk about this relationship in the first place because it was so fragile and now I'm doing it anyway. Damn Bolton charm.
"You loved her."
"I did." Still do.
She leans forward and grabs my left hand that's resting on the oak table. "I'm so sorry." She squeezes my hand with her left hand and my eyes stare at her wedding bands. She's wearing a thin diamond band that's wrapped between two rows of sapphires as her wedding ring. I remember how Troy told me she had designed it herself. It fits her engagement ring. The oval sapphire which is surrounded by a halo of diamonds on a platinum band. Her engagement ring... Adaline would have loved it. She would have felt honoured to wear this, proud in a way only she and her mother could fully understand. But I knew this would never happen. And now it won't.
"Yeah, well I am, too." I say before taking another sip of my cold beer.
"If it's meant to be, you'll get back together."
It is meant to be. It can't not be meant to be. "I guess only time will tell."
"You won't talk to her again?"
I shake my head, "It hurts too much. I can't bare looking at her right now."
"When did you break up?"
"Three months ago." But it feels like yesterday.
She nods with a sad smile on her lips, "It'll take some time but you'll get over her. Your heart will heal and you'll find someone that you'll love even more. Sometimes love only from one party is not enough."
"Love was not our issue." I mumble without thinking. I love her move than she'll ever know. And she loves me, too. I know she does. I saw it. I felt it. A love like ours doesn't exist another time.
"What was your issue?"
I shrug, "Everything else."
Her lips form a thin line, "You're not really giving me much to work with."
"It's over now anyway." I tell her.
Adaline's point of view:
I stop the car next to a black Lamborghini and roll down my window, "Got space for another car?"
The African man grins at me, "Bolton, I almost thought you wouldn't make it."
I return his grin, "I have to kick your ass." There are four other participants: A green Bugatti, a yellow Maserati, a black Bentley and a red Audi.
"You mean kiss it when I win this time."
"In your dreams!" I say before a short bulky blonde man appears in front of my window.
"Same as always." He informs me. Half a million plus the car I'm driving. It's always the same. For round one.
I nod. "I'm in."
"We start in two minutes." With that the short bulky man disappears. He didn't even give me his name. It's never the same man anyway.
Suddenly a black Porsche Boxster stops next to me in my white Ferrari. It's a convertible just like mine. I frown as I notice the ginger head.
"Dean?" I ask him shocked. What is he doing here?! Has Wlad send him?
He slowly turns his head and looks at me with his green eyes, "Bolton."
He's here for the street race, not for me. We all have our baggage after all.
Suddenly a flashlight appears and I nearly miss hitting the gas pedal on time. I get pressed into my seat as this white beauty takes off, nearly flying over the asphalt.
I take a quick glance into the review mirror, the black Porsche, the green Bugatti, the yellow Maserati and the black Bentley are all behind me. In front of me is the black Lamborghini as well as the red Audi. Next to me is Dean in his black Porsche. I can't believe how well of a racer he is!
I turn left with the curve, but instead of lowering my speed, I push the gas pedal through. The motor starts howling and I rush by the black Porsche because Dean made the foolish mistake to push the brakes. I can see smoke in the review mirror as the adrenaline spikes up in my veins. In the last two minutes and forty five seconds I haven't spend a thought on Wlad - and it feels so good that I actually smiled. I haven't smiled in forever.
I pick up the speed and take over the green Bugatti, yellow Maserati and black Bentley. I usually give the cars that I win to people who need the money and I intend to do the same tonight as well. I have done that the last twenty times. But first, I have to win over the black Lamborghini.
We're nearly there, I can already see the finish line at the horizon. I have to win this race. My Dad will kill me if I loose his white Ferrari - it's his favourite car and mine as well.
There's one last curve before we finish and I push the speed paddle so hard that I almost hit the cement wall to my right, but that's a risk I calculated. The black Lamborghini hits the brakes and I rush past it. A few seconds later I drive over the finish line. I won!
Suddenly, I hear sirens. Shit.
Scotland Yard.
Wladimir's point of view:
I empty the bourbon in my glass, needing to feel that burn in my throats before being able to call it a night. I stare out of the glass front in my living area, having glittering London beneath me. But that view means nothing without her next to me. Sometimes I can still feel her presence, hear her laugh or smell her smell. The memories of her walking around, cooking in the kitchen, laying on the couch in front of the open fireplace... the memories are too much. This heartache is too much.
I don't know how to carry on.
Adaline's point of view:
"Have you understood your rights, Miss Bolton?" The officer asks me. These motherfuckers called Scotland Yard because they knew I'd win again. All the other cars drove away but I couldn't react fast enough. Because the police car was right in front of my nose.
"Yes. But I get to make a call. I want to make that now." I demand although I have no idea who I should call. I obviously can't call my father and my mother, Ana can't do much from Oxford and neither can my aunts and uncles. In fact they would inform my parents before using their own brains. I would call Dean, but he is clearly no option now as well.
That leaves me only one person.
Shit I never wanted him to see me like this.
"Yeah, sure. Follow me." The big black haired officer gets up and I follow him through the police station in Putney. I pass several empty desks full of paper work until I reach an old telephone.
"One call, if the person doesn't pick up you don't get another chance."
I nod before picking up the phone. I type in his number and hear the line ring. After all that happened between us I have no idea if he's going to pick up. But I'm calling from a different number, so maybe he will.
Just when I think his phone will go to voicemail, he picks up.
"Hi," I breathe out, "uhm... I'm-"
"Already on my way. I've got you." His deep scratchy voice sends tingles down my spine and the hairs in my neck stand up.
He ends the call before I can say another word. Not even thank you.
"That's your group cell until someone comes to pick you up and pays the bail, Bolton." The police officer opens the cell and I walk inside. There's a drunk man sleeping in the left corner and an overweight scary looking woman is sitting on the floor across me.
"Hi." I greet her.
She only glances at me with her black eyes. Her arms are full of tattoos. The only ink free space on her skin is her face. But I'm sure that's next on her list.
The police officer closes the cell and locks it with a key. It smells like pee and vomit in here, really badly. I sit down on the floor right next to the door.
"What are you in here for?" The woman suddenly asks me.
I wince from her deep voice. "Street race."
She eyeballs me, "Got into an accident?"
"No, I was stupid enough to win the race." I explain with a shrug.
"You won, princess?"
Princess. I decide to let that go. "Yes." I turn around to fully look at her. "Why are you here?"
"Got into a fight in front of a pub."
That's all? She's no murderer? Somehow, I find that calming.
"What's your name?"
"Bolton. Yours?"
"Taylor." She answers with her last name as well. "What do you do when you're not racing? Go to college?"
"I'm a doctor."
She starts laughing, "Yeah and I'm the queen of England!"
I lick my lips, of course she would react this way. They all do. "I'm serious. I have an IQ of 200. I work at the Lindo Wing at St. Mary's."
"That's private care." She says, stopping the laughter.
"Yeah, I know. I'm a surgeon there. Cardiology, neurology and reconstructive."
"You operate on people?"
I nod and holds up my hands, "Those hands are worth 200 million pounds."
"Bloody hell!" She breathes out shocked. "You're not joking me?"
I shake my head, "No, definitely not."
"Well, if that's the case I have something I'd like you to see." She lifts her shirt and I stare at a nasty tattoo infection.
"Keep it clean and dry." I tell her and Taylor nods.
"Bolton, your bail has been paid. You're free to leave." The officer from earlier opens the door again.
"Change the bandage daily." I say to Taylor before walking out of the cell. Somehow Taylor distracted me from the fear of seeing Wlad again after three months. I still can't believe I got caught. The last twenty times I was fine! I cleaned and disinfected Taylor's nasty infection, taking care the best I could in a prison cell. I still can't believe that I spend half my night in a prison cell.
I collect my stuff at the reception desk before walking out of the police station. The sun is rising, coating the parking lot in pastel colours. I scan the parking lot for the similar silver pickup truck, but it's not there. Didn't Wlad pay my bail after all?
Suddenly the hairs in my neck start rising, my spine starts tingling and my heart starts racing. His smell fills my nostrils. A fresh ocean breeze. I close my eyes and inhale deeply. I missed his smell. I missed it badly.
"Thank you." I breathe out, feeling his body heat radiating behind me. "I'll pay you back."
I can feel his breath in my neck, but he doesn't say a word.
Wladimir's point of view:
I wanted to kill her, snap her in half for what she did. Street Racing! How dare she bring herself in so much danger! How fucking dare she gamble with her life like that!
She stopped loosing Dean, I know that because in the last three months the reports were fine. She didn't even drive above the speed limit. And then I found out she was street racing! Fucking street racing!
Not only that, but she pulled Dean into this. As a former poker addict, this was the perfect new drug for him. She made him race with her.
Just as I stop watching her she pulls a stunt like this! I nearly got a heart attack when my alarm on my phone went off, telling me she's in jail! In fucking jail!
But now that she's standing in front of me, all I want to do is hold her, kiss her, cherish her body and soul.
The need is so strong that my hands start shaking. I haven't touched her in three months. I haven't felt that smooth skin, kissed those plump lips and heard that stunning voice in three months. She only said hi in the phone and I was already under her spell again. She's under my skin, she has her hands wrapped around my heart so tightly that with every passing second I fear she'd break it again. But I'd rather have a broken heart than share a smile with another woman.
I inhale deeply, trying to stop the shaking. I have to keep my body under control. We broke up. She ended this between us. We're over.
She turns around.
And suddenly we're not over at all.
Adaline's point of view:
His lips seal over mine before I can react in any way. My body hums to life, my heart starts racing with the same speed as I drove through Putney. The need to have him overcomes me, so I wrap my arms around him and pull him closer to me until our bodies are melted into one. I can feel his erection in my stomach, the thick pulsing cock is too big to ignore. Our tongues entwine as I return his kiss, giving him more of me. I want to have all of him. All the time. Every day. Every minute, second that passes by. I need him, there was never a doubt in my mind that I didn't. I need him to breathe, to function... to be alive.
I bury my fingers into his hair as the fireworks explode inside of me. Gosh, only he can make me feel this way. Only him.
I can feel the shining sun warming my back, but the wildfire in front of me is much hotter. How did I survive the last months without him? How did I do that? How?
Suddenly, he pulls away. His grey orbs stare into mine, pain is written in them so visibly that I can feel it too. He suffered not less than as did. He still is. Just like me.
He lets go of my body and takes a step back. I miss the heat right away. I miss his smell, his lips... I miss everything.
He turns around and rushes away from me, running down the steps to the parking lot in front of the police station.
I watch him go.
Just like he watched me go when I broke us up.
Thank you all for the lovely reviews on the last chapter! The breakup was hard for both of them and moving on seems quite hard, if not impossible. The next chapters will show how both of them move on in ways neither expect. I think most of you guessed the reason for Adaline's need for adrenaline and why she's street racing. The stimulus makes her forget about Wlad, even if it's just for a few minutes.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. In about two chapters the story will have caught up with the first chapter of A Million Times More.
The letter Wlad wrote in the beginning of the chapter will be received by Adaline soon. What do you think it says?
Also, didn't you expect the false pregnancy alarm? What do you think of their reactions?
Translations: Моя любовь - My love
Please review.
In gratitude,
Nicole
