I'm back! i'm so sorry for disappearing for a month. But i'm back! AN below. =)
reminders:
1. take note of the time stamps , so that you don't get lost.
2. italics are for thoughts or flashbacks =)
We are now on book 2, won't keep you waiting any longer.
Enjoy!
disclaimer: i don't own anything.
Chapter 12
New York, February 2014
"Honey, I'm ho—What the fuck!"
"Shit!—ow!" Paul scrambled to get off of the couch he was currently sprawled on, his current flavor of the weekend thrown over the arm, his pants pulled down his legs hindering him from running. Tripping over the mahogany coffee table, Paul pulled himself up and his shorts together to face evil incarnate, "Alex, I didn't know you'd be home early." Rubbing the back of his neck at the embarrassment of getting caught in the act.
"Neither did I. Who is this?" Gesturing to the man who's now standing, both of his hands covering his junk with his pants still pooled at his ankles.
"Who are YOU?" Switching his attention between Alex then to Paul, "I thought you said you were gay?!"
"I am!", inhaling to keep his irritation down, "Alex, this is Dan. Dan, meet Alex—my flatmate."
"Oh! Nice to meet you—" extending his left towards Alex, his right hand still covering his genitals.
"Get out." Leveling the man with her unamused stare.
"Okay." Awkwardly pulling his pants up, not wanting to give Alex another view of his goods. Looking around trying to spot his shirt on the floor by the breakfast nook. Moving towards the main door were both Paul and Alex was standing, "um, I—it was nice to meet you."
"Out." Alex growled, slamming the door on the man's face. "Dammit Paul. I thought you were gonna stop with sleeping around." Exasperation in her tone as she regarded her friend, who was making his way towards the coffee maker, "I mean, what happened to Nicolai? I thought you guys were going great."
"I thought too. But he disappeared off the face of the planet." Paul grumbled, unceremoniously placing a mug down, placing a splash of half and half while he waited for the coffee to get ready. Rubbing his tired eyes and leaning forward in his arms over the counter.
"Shit." Alex mumbled, her earlier anger evaporated at the sight if her broken friend. They both were really are alike.
"What happened with your mother?" Gesturing to Alex's long black silk gown. Diverting the conversation towards his best friend who obviously had a disastrous evening, if one would take in her sour mood and sudden desire to return home. "That bad huh?" Watching his best friend as she plopped herself down on the nearest bar stool. She looked exhausted and pissed off.
Making a quick escape to the top shelf to her right, Alex grabbed the whiskey bottle that was eyeing her. Pouring a generous amount to her empty mug and taking a long swing from it before speaking. "What's new with her right?" Shrugging her shoulders and toeing her stilettos off. "It's not like she has ever approved of my choices."
"Sweetheart," Paul bent forward, grabbing his friend's hand from across the counter. "You are not a disappointment." Understanding swimming in his eyes, before his amusement replaced them, "We both are." Giggling at the mock offended expression on Alex's face.
"You bitch." Alex laughed along with her friend, her earlier mood forgotten and her problems with her mother all pushed at the back of her mind.
"You love me." Winking at Alex, forgoing the steaming concoction and taking a huge gulp from his mug. "Yeah, I do." Alex muttered, eyeing her half naked friend across from her. The silenced that engulfed the pair was comfortable, no explanations, no reprimands, just drinking in silence was what both of them needed.
"Come on, there's still time." Glancing at his watch, Paul gulped down the last of his coffee,
"Time for what?"
"It's your birthday tomorrow. I'm not letting it go to waste." Paul explained, already walking purposefully towards his room situated on the opposite side of the flat.
The huge floor to ceiling windows decorated one side of the apartment, the place was one big vacant space when they moved in, which they both quickly fell in love with. Kitchen and living room shared the open space while both their bedrooms where situated on opposite ends of the apartment offering them much needed privacy—not like Alex needed hers—but Paul needed his.
"Ugh, Paul. I'm really not up for celebrating. I have spending proposal to complete and Mark will have my neck if he finds out I haven't finished it."
"Sometimes I wonder why you punish yourself. You don't even like your job." Standing by the hallway leading to his bedroom, "I mean, you love to draw. I have friends in art galleries who would have put up with whatever you present in a heartbeat."
"I don't paint anymore. Or draw or color or anything." Aggravated that her one true love has now been casted away by her mother too. "Pizza and beer?" Alex offered, trying to lighten the mood.
"I don't do moping around, sweet heart." Paul laughed, moving to enter his room and rummaging through his clothes, "We are going out. We are not putting that nice silk dress of yours to waste." Paul's voice echoed out his room to where Alex was perched on a barstool by the kitchen.
"And what do you know? Maybe we'll find a guy for you." Paul emerged from his room looking totally fresh. Black leather pants and a white button down shirt with a few undone buttons.
"Alright. Let's do this." Alex gave in, feeling the effects of the alcohol in her system start to flow in her veins.
"That's the spirit!"
0-0-0
The bass of the club was loud and the tempo raising Alex's already anxious heart together with its tempo. The club they had entered was exotic to say the least. The line outside the long, Thank God for Paul who got them in, otherwise Alex would have immediately bolted for the nearest wine bar. Clubs were not really her thing, but since tonight was one of those rare occasion were she was feeling a little more rebellious—than the regular—in regards to what her mom thought of her life, she felt adrenaline course through her system at the possibility of the unknown.
People were packed inside, the blue neon lights making the place even more other worldly. The crowd in itself was of a different breed. This club does cater to the elite. Alex spied two floors, each with its own bar, the second floor obviously catered to the VIP and had glass barrier overlooking the entire lower half of the club.
Alex let Paul drag her toward the grand staircase located at the right side, spiraling behind the DJ booth.
"Where are we going?" Alex whispered, inching closer to Paul who continued to wave and greet people as they passed by.
"Relax. I know some people in the VIP."
Continuing their mighty trek up the grand staircase, Alex found herself in a different world—pun intended.
The music was muted, the vibe was much more relax unlike the animal party that is going on downstairs. She was then bombarded with new faces, all knew she was celebrating her birthday and continued to greet her on her special day. Way for Paul to really go all out.
Alex chose wine for herself, seeing as the number of shots Paul has pushed back, it seems she would be the designated 'mother' tonight. But Alex could not bring herself to care. For the first time in years, Alex felt like having fun and being adventurous. Spying her now empty glass, she proceeded to stand and head to the bar.
"Where are you going?" Paul asked grabbing onto her wrist,
"Just gonna get a refill." Waving her glass for evidence, Paul nodded and let her go. Nodding to the rest of nameless faces she was currently sitting with. Despite not having known these people, she was actually having fun. They were a funny bunch.
Climbing on the lone barstool, placing her empty glass on the counter. The bartender was immediately on her, asking what she wanted. Feeling a little brave and wanting to loosen up a little she opted for a , "Sazerac." Smiling sweetly at the bartender who nodded at her request.
Sputtering beside her was a man she did not recognize, turning her shocked and concerned gaze over him she spotted his hand covering his mouth as he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. Are you alright?"
"Whiskey AND absinthe?" The guy managed to ask, this time turning to face her, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to eavesdrop, its just..I figured you for a martini or cosmo kind of girl." The guy smiled sheepishly feeling embarrassed at having admitted to listening to her conservation with the bartender.
Alex felt her heart stop, whatever snarky remark she was about to retort died in her lips as she gazed at the sputtering man beside her. His eyes a startling amber framed with thick long lashes, his auburn brown hair cropped short on the sides but was maintained thick, long and wavy at the top. His jaw was sharp with a delicious sprinkle of a five o'clock shadow, his cheekbones sleek, His black shirt with the sleeves was folded halfway up showcasing his forearms. He was obviously standing beside her, and even so, he stood a foot tall from her.
Shaking her head to rid of the fog, she was still staring as she slowly watched a smirk play across his pink lips. "I..um..I'm sorry?.. I mean, what kind of a girl do you think I am?"
The guy let out a nervous laugh. Running his hand over his already tousled hair, he answered, "One of a kind."
Alex could not help the laugh that bubbled out of her, "Does it really work?"
"I know, that was pretty cheesy." The hot guy immediately blushed at his faux pas.
"Bad. Pretty bad." Alex continued on laughing, as the guy looked over at her and laughed at himself too. They were both still laughing when the bartender returned with her drink.
"Tom." The guy offered his hand, long, slender fingers— for a handshake.
Alex studied his offered hand, a barrage of excitement mixed with trepidation at her current predicament. Throwing caution to the wind and a thought of, 'What the hell'— "Alex." Placing her hand on his own and immediately feeling warmth engulf her small hand.
"So, Alex," Tom smiled, feeling at least triumphant at finally getting to know her name. He had spotted her as soon as she arrived. Striking emerald eyes and long dark wavy hair framed her face. Her creamy skin teasing in her black silk gown. He was observing her all night, seeing her laugh and have fun with her friends. He was entranced. "What brings you here?"
"Oh, um, I'm with friends." Alex answered, internally scolding herself for offering such a lame answer. Avoiding from making more of an idiot of herself, she took a long sip of her cocktail.
"Okay." Tom followed, his eyes darting between her eyes and his drink, his mind blank at what to say next, how to keep the ball rolling. He was internally cursing himself for being such a complete idiot!
"I'm so sorry. I'm really bad at this." Alex tried to apologize feeling the awkward tension fill the air between them,
"Yeah..I mean NO! I mean, you're not awkward—I am! I suck at this." Tom offered trying to make her at ease, his panic rising at the thought that at any moment she might decide to return to her friends and his window of opportunity might close.
Unprepared for his panicked tirade mixed in with the spur-of-the-moment drink she opted to have, and her attempt at trying to counter his self deprecating, Alex sputtered. The liquid going down the wrong pipe. Now it was her turn to cough and sputter.
Tom, in panic, grab the nearest napkin and patted her back to ease her discomfort. As her coughing fit died down, "I guess where even now, are we?"
They both laughed at what a total geek they were.
"So, what do you do?" Tom asked, the crowd had already dwindled down, leaving the barstool next to her free.
"I'm a corporate research analyst."
"Wow. What does that mean?" Smiling at the blush that crept up her cheeks from the alcohol and the interrogation.
"Nobody knows what it means, that's why I get to charge so much." Alex laughed at the bewildered expression on Tom's face.
"I was just messing with you," Tom chuckled, "Quantitative, Analytical, logical, number and data managing, interpretation and presentation—that's impressive. What department?"
"Operations."
"What field?"
"Aviation."
"No shit." Taking a long sip of his beer glancing back at her, "I feel so inadequate right now." Beauty and brains, lethal combination. "But, impressive." His smirk in place as he regarded her, his eyes kind.
The conversation continued on for most of the night, with Paul interrupting with a missing Nicolai in his arms. Alex's face bellied her surprise at seeing her friend looking obviously tipsy with all the alcohol and forgot that he was suppose to put Nicolai on a springer from disappearing on him without a trace.
Alex is very much familiar with attraction. At the age of twenty eight, it was not new to her how the world works. Men go after what they want, and why should women be any different—right?
Looking over Paul and his obvious connection with the dashing russian—Nicolai, and sliding her gaze over at Tom whose attention was at Paul and his antics, Alex thought that maybe things are finally turning up for once in her bleak, sad life.
Imagination had been one of her strongest suits growing up. Maybe too much imagination was bad, considering the nightmare of a puberty she had, but not even the best writers could have come up with a plot line so convoluted as when she walked into work a week after her supposed birthday celebration.
Aviation industry is cutthroat, brutal and often times fast paced. The influx of flights, the variables of comparing guest satisfaction and demand for exotic destinations and frequency of flights for bustling cities and business capitals, factoring in aircraft maintenance, personnel qualification and fleet expansion have all become one blurred panoramic view of the life Alex had as she plowed her way through the corporate side of running the operations of an elusive five star airline.
It was at her early Monday meeting, a week after her supposed birthday celebration—where they would most rip each departments to shreds—that her world decided to tip upside down.
It was during her halcyon diatribes of costs and profits, her rapt attention on the slides at the far end of the room, presenting the variables of costs at expanding the fleet along with modernization and expansion of their engineering department—that Tom walked in, in all his polished navy blue suit glory.
"Mr. Cross." Elaine, Vice President for Flight operations greeted, her arm extended as she shook hands with the Chief Financial Officer for Garcia Summit, the corporate body that runs the largest aviation business in the Northwest.
"Elaine, nice to see you again." Tom nodded, his eyes sweeping at the parade of department heads seated around, his eye falling on a familiar brunette staring at him with wide eyes.
"This is Thomas Cross. CFO for the board at Garcia Summit." Without missing a beat, Elaine went on to introduce Tom to the rest of the core team.
An amused smile graced Tom's sharp features as he faced and greeted everyone, "I thought you looked familiar."
Smirking and turning to hide her surprise at finding him at one of her core meetings, "You're not stalking me, are you?"
A laugh bubbled out of Tom and quickly shook his head, "If I recall, I never asked what airline you were working for." Looking at her and at the presentation flashed on the white screen, Tom added, "But now I see why this airline grew to be the best."
"You two know each other?" Was Elaine's bewildered question, her eyes moving from Tom to Alex.
"Alexandria Townsende."offering her hand and shaking Tom's, "Nice to meet you Mr. Cross."
"How's Paul?" Tom's could not hide his smirk at Alex's surprised expression at the mention of her friend, but suddenly a knowing smirk graced her own. "He's okay."
Turning to compose herself and pull her hand from his hold, she turned her attention to the white screen, her back becoming ramrod straight, her eyes scanning the room, "Shall we continue?"
Pulling Alex to the side as soon as they got out of the glass doors of the conference room, Elaine went in for the obvious question, "How do you know Tom?"
"I just met him a weeks ago." Pre occupied with stuffing her messenger bag with stacks of paper and her laptop. "Why?"
"N..nothing." composing herself and giving Alex sidelong glance, "I was just…I.. you guys looked like you knew each other for much longer than that." Elaine commented, dragging a rather bustling Alex to the nearest elevator. "Did you know that he's Viggo's son?"
"Viggo Garcia?" That information halted Alex's movements, staring at Elaine and shifting her gaze to Tom who was engaged in a conversation with he head of the people department.
"Yeah. The one and only Viggo Garcia. Heard he had to pull his son out of another corporation handling the Arabian oil company. Don't know why though."
"So what's up with the last name?"
"Not so much of a happily ever after with the parents. Viggo Garcia remains unmarried, but talks were circulating that he had a son, which turned out to be true—"
"But he would not take his father's name. Got it." Not knowing what to do with that little piece of information, Alex's attention turned to her bag trying to find her phone as the elevator doors dinged signaling its arrival on their floor.
Pulling Alex along with her, Elaine cramped themselves inside the square lead contraption, the doors almost closing before an arm shot out the sliding doors, "Sorry! I made it." Tom announced, his kind smile sweeping the cramped space, his amber eyes locking in on Alex's dark head buried deep in her bag.
"Shit. El, I'll catch up. I think I left my phone under the desk."
"Oh…okay."
Running out the elevator, Alex barely registered Tom's voice as he sped past the steel doors leaving Elaine perplexed with the sudden development.
Reaching her hand under the desk she was earlier assigned, she tired to pad around until she felt for the telltale cord and followed it until spotting the unmistakeable rectangular aluminum invention, snatching it and turning it on, she spotted several missed calls from her mother, and one from Paul.
Walking while reading thru several emails and listening a few voicemails left by her mother about another charity gala where she'd try her luck at matchmaking again, Alex rolled her eyes at the absurdity of what her mother was trying to accomplish. Entering the elevator and pressing for the ground floor, "That bad huh?" A squeak escaped her and had to hold her hand above her chest to steady her heart. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Tom smiled,
"You know, for a member of the board, you apologize a lot." Alex commented turning her attention to the slowly descending numbers across the black display.
"You're familiar with board members?"
"Nope." Popping the 'p', "but I'm sure they don't apologize to their subordinates. Especially ones who are demanding improvement in production while lowering costs and increasing profit."
An impressed smile spread across Tom's face, "You got what I was trying to say."
"I understood it, but I don't know if we'll be able to pull it off."
"I'm sure we'll find a way." Casting a tentative glance at the gorgeous man beside her, Alex could not help but smirk at the giddiness radiating off of him in waves at the prospect of shaking things up at Grand Air. Her internal musings were interrupted when Tom suddenly turned to her, his earlier confidence gone, replaced with uncertainty but his smile was still there, "So, lunch?"
-New York, May 2016-
Love according to Merriam-Webster, if used as a noun; is a strong affection for another; attraction based on sexual desire or an affection based on admiration or common interest.
Looking across the man she had been dating for almost two years now, how does one tick off the desired box? Was there a checklist? If so, was there a sort of requirement to meet before one transcends the said relationship to the next level? Should it transcend to the next level? Is there a need for it to transcend in the first place?
The attraction was evident from the beginning. But was it enough?
A soft ding of her phone interrupted Alex as she studied her boyfriend snoring softly from the other side of her king sized bed. They had not seen each other for almost six months, their schedules are hectic and their workload demanding at most. It was not easy trying to run an airline, much less trying to appease the board and balancing, cost and demand. Tom was always flying out somewhere and she too. It was a constant stream of calls and meetings. Data analysis and interpretation—her everyday work was a logistical nightmare. Even now as she afforded herself a few minutes to be languid, life could not seem to allow her some quiet time.
*coffee? -P
Reading Paul's text as she silently move about her room, pulling the nearest shirt and pajama she could find, quickly typing out a response on her phone while picking up and folding the discarded clothes scattered on the floor from their previous hurried activities last night.
Her best friend is going to have some questions. And he is not going to hold back.
Two years of dating, the subject of moving in together had been brought up countless times but it has always been placed on the back burner, for reasons unknown Alex was always relieved when the discussion was always put on hold or forgotten. Happy to accept that their jobs took priority.
Last night was all about physical connection. Immediate physical connection. Even Alex could identify the scalding need just to be next to another person. Sex was almost always the precipice of what they were planning, whether it was a date night or just hanging out in her apartment or his.
She was shocked to find Tom waiting for her in her lobby when she strolled in last night, having had a late night meeting with Elaine and the legal department about the subject on the threat of flight crew union and their demands on employee benefits, duty hours and rest periods. It was a bleeder. The last thing she needed was to have to explain to Tom why she had not returned his calls all day. She was pissed off, stressed and stretched too thin with this fight with the union, not to mention the shit storm that will soon erupt once their demands are made known to the board, much less the threat the union members are making to have their grievances aired in public through the media. It was instant need that propelled her to throw herself in his arms bury herself in his kisses as she allowed herself to forget all about the outside world.
And he read her mind.
Alex never cared much about the propriety, damn the society for thinking whatever they want to think. As soon as she was old enough to go to college, she lost her virginity to the first faceless college boy she met. Not to say that she slept around, but to her what was the point of waiting? Was there a point to all the expectations? It's the twenty first century, it is safe to establish that sex is a basic need. No strings, no confusion, no hurt feelings.
Taking a furtive glance behind her, as her hand grasp the brass door knob to her bedroom door, watching the rise and fall of Tom's chest while still in deep sleep, Alex felt the telltale sign of guilt creeping up her bones. Trying to shake her head to rid of her thoughts and anything that might trigger painful memories that were once thought to have dissipated, she wrenched her door and stepped out silently into her large apartment in search of the coffee that has the scent assaulted her nose.
Entering the quaint little Italian restaurant that night at one-twenty nine Macdougal, New York, boasts of home grown Italian fine dining with soft jazz music in the background.
Straightening her spine and easing out any creases on her knee length khaki skirt, Alex made a beeline for the receptionist. "Table for how many?"
"Oh..um.. I have a reservation. Cross." Recognition dawned in the hostess face, and her smile got impossibly sinister as she tried to subtly look Alex up and down, "This way miss. They have been expecting you."
They?
Passing among the the throng of tables littered with romantic dates and families of four, Alex was led on the farthest side by the sliding glass door into the crisp New York air, their table was situated at the corner, a dim golden glow illuminated the place. But her gaze locked on the single person she wasn't expecting to see tonight, "What are you doing here?"
"Really Alex, is that a proper way to greet your mother?"
"I invited her." Tom interjected, his smile blinding as he moved to stand to pull Alex's chair for her. Meanwhile, Alex's smile remained plastered to her face, the eery familiar feeling of being a lamb walking into a den of wolves descended as goosebumps start to erupt along her pale, toned arms.
"Welcome to La Laterna di Vittorio. May I interest you in some wine to start your evening?" A tall male server interrupted them, his professional but kind smile moving about the three occupants of the table covered in deep burgundy cloth, a single rose adorned the center of the round table.
"Yes." Tom exclaimed, folding his hands calm on the table before him,
"No." Alex answered at the same time,
"Yes, please." Elizabeth answered after an awkward minute of silence while the server's patient gaze swept through the three of them.
The server nodded his head and turned swiftly, to return with a bottle of red wine. "May I offer our, Domaine Leroy Richebourge Grand Cru, 1949." Alex welcomed the server's intrusion with open arms, her eyes moving between Tom who was an epitome of angelic calmness and her mother who was an exact opposite. "The estate produces excellent Pinot Noir using the biodynamic production method spearheaded by its owner, Madame Leroy. Richebourg is regarded for its full-bodied, muscular Pinot Noir and can be cellared for years. They make excellent collection, only 700 bottles per year, tops, are made." The server finished, popping the cork of excellently and during a generous amount of the red concoction into each of their glasses, "I'll give you time to peruse our menu and I will be back to take your orders." before turning around a leaving the still silent trio to their demise.
"So," Tom started but was quickly cut off by Elizabeth.
"Yes, so.."giddy with excitement and having already finished half of her glass, Elizabeth exclaimed happily, "I got married!"
Tom's smile remained frozen in place, the only sign of shock was the slight widening of his eyes. While Alex could not contain her astonishment over the news, the wine going down the wrong pipe, "What? When? To who?" All the while, while trying to clear her throat and dab the tears that form on her eyes at the burning sensation.
"Congratulations." Tom ejected, his hand going under the table to grip Alex's silently urging her to calm down.
"Thank you dear. Really Alex, the least you could do is congratulate your mother. It's not exactly been easy raising you alone." Without missing a heartbeat, Alex took a huge gulp of the probably expensive drink. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm all grown up now. I've been grown up for years."
"I'd be convinced and even be proud if you'd actually take the time to embrace your name." Rubbing her temple at the oncoming migraine Alex could feel brewing under the surface, she made another pass at her quickly emptying wine glass.
"It is just a name, mother." Alex muttered under the her flute,
"And there you go again with that tone with me. Do you have any idea the sacrifices I've made for you?" Tom watched the slowly rising argument between mother and daughter and his fear of this night turning into a disaster of quickly becoming a reality, extending his neck and moving to wave their server back, hersignaled for another round of the same wine.
"May I take your orders?" The server cut through the heated discussion,
"I"ll have the Mesclun Salad and Lasagna Al Pesto." Elizabeth rattled off with out so much as a second glance on her menu,
"Um..I—"
"We'll be having the Caprese and Salmon Affumicato." Tom ordered for the both of them, not wanting anything Alex will say to trigger her mother into another of her tirades.
"Thank God you let Tom order for you, or we'll have to roll you out of here. When was the last time you burned calories off?" The snide remark burning more than Alex let on,
Finishing the last of her second glass in now sweep, she waved her glass in the air for the server, "More wine." Moving to her side of the table to pour there'd liquid, not even bothering to swirl and taking a sniff of the aromatic poison, Alex moved to snag the bottle from the server's hold, "Leave the bottle."
"Jesus, Alex. Just tell me when to bring you back to Springdale and I'll be happy to oblige." Elizabeth was on a roll, not even bothering to hold back and pretend for one night that this was her daughter's night.
"Back?" A perplexed expression crossing Tom's. Had he heard her right?
"So, what's the occasion?" Squashing the panic that rose quickly at the mention of the wretched place. Tom had no idea. Over the course of their two year relationship, Alex had no plans of ever divulging that little tidbit of information. It does not matter, she tried to convince herself. Look forward, no reason to look back and that was what she has been doing for the past almost fifteen years.
"Well, I thought it'd be nice to have dinner with two lovely ladies." Tom could charm any panties off, but the compliment flew past her ears as she watched horrified as her mother tried to flirt with her boyfriend, a blush forming along Elizabeth's cheeks, a giggle escaping past her ruby lips.
"Tom, stop. I'm married."
Needing a distraction at once, Alex tried to feign interest, "What's your new husband like?" Successfully maneuvering the discussion to more light matters. Alex carefully moving her mother's glass farther and farther away from Elizabeth's reach. The dinner flowed smoothly after that, the conversation mostly took after the whirlwind romance Elizabeth had with a real estate mogul she met at one of her charity galas, last year. The quiet and intimate wedding only took place six months ago. Henry Statham was the same age as her mother, but an active spirit. He was into boating and fishing, but the occasional charity gala and social butterfly was he in often cases. Anything to keep him young, and a round of laughter from her mother as she regaled another story of Henry trying to learn archery as his recent interest. He had set up shop in her mother's estate, the old courtyard just outside her study had now been transformed into one of Robinhood's wet dream.
"May I interest you in some dessert?" The server was back and Alex had to stop herself from jumping out of her seat and giving the server a hug at the perfect timing.
"I'll have the tiramisu and some coffee please."
"Right away, madame." Opting to stuff her face than talk any further, Alex turned to face the dreamy creation of coffee and cream in front of her without noticing that Tom had moved his chair closer to hers.
"Alex,"
Startled to find Tom close, she eyed him, his expression nervous but hopeful. Sweeping her face to her mother, she was also intently studying her, Elizabeth's face contorted in gleaming expectancy. A foreboding feeling suddenly crept up her spine, her love triangle with the tiramisu forgotten as she straightened her back and faced her boyfriend, like a panther being backed into a corner, her claws are ready for a fight, "What's going on…"
"We've been together for two years now, and you are the love of my life." Grasping her hand and refusing to let go, Tom moved his chair back as he positioned himself to bend in one knee,
"Oh God…" unable to form any words, Alex watched the scene unfold before her. Like an out of body experience, she could picture herself, standing on the corner while watching a doppleganger get cajoled into something she knew deep down she did not want, or will ever want—again.
"Yes, oh god." Trying to cover his nervous laugh with a cough Tom continued, "Well the thing is, I don't want to wait. I mean I know we've talked about moving in together and all that, but the subject was just getting pushed around a lot, and I thought why not take the whole dive, right?"
"Oh God…" feeling the room closing in and the effects of the wine running through her blood stream, Alex's mind froze in surprise and….guilt?
"Alex, will you marry me?" Just like in the movies that Alex avoided, Tom opened the deep blue velvet box that held the ring. The dim lighting of the caffe giving it an even more magical glow, as the diamond glimmered all the while it stared cold into Alex's emerald eyes.
NO!
NO!
I am sorry, but the answer is no.
Her mind was screaming, but the words would not come out. NO? Why? Tom made her happy, right? What more could she ask for? Her heart is screaming something else too, but for the life of her she could not decipher until what her mind and heart were trying to say all became one blurred screaming inside her. Alex did not even realize that she was crying as she felt Tom's thumb brush softly across the apple of cheeks. Alex tried to offered a smile, hoping that it did not came out as a grimace—
"Yes!" As applause exploded all around them, making the chaos inside her even more louder, to her horror Alex glanced at her mother who was wearing a shit eating grin, clapping her hands and kissing Tom's face as she congratulated him, all the while ignoring her daughter accusatory glare as she moved to squeeze Alex. "Yes! I am so happy for the both of you!" Elizabeth's high pitched vice drowned out all the others.
Moving to remove the ring from its velvety contraption, Tom placed the ring onto Alex's hand,"I love you sweetheart! You make me the happiest man alive!" Pulling her to a warm embrace, the usual feeling of calmness that she always got from hugging him gone, and in its place a cold feeling settled in her bones, a feeling of freezing, black bars closing in on her.
Everything moved in two times speed from that moment on, the surreal feeling of being the center of everything and being an outcast at the same time. The conversation around her became an inescapable white noise that she was sure would follow her until her wedding day,
"This is going to be the wedding of the decade!" Elizabeth excitedly announced, "I mean we don't need to wait, we can have the wedding in six months." Pulling out her planner and jotting down God knows what into her scheming little leather bound notebook.
As if being slapped back into reality, Alex whipped her head, like that girl from the exorcism movie, her eyes panicked and wide as she scold her mother in to some semblance of descent behavior not liking the giddy school girl Elizabeth had transformed into. "Mother!"
The celebration hadn't died down around her as their table was still getting celebratory hugs and pat on the back from complete strangers for the surprise proposal. The server decided it was time to intervene with another bottle of red wine only saved for special occasions, with a grin towards Alex like he knew what she was feeling. That feeling of being sucked into a blackhole or quick sand, refusing to let go of the vice like grip it has on her.
How many surprise proposals had he witnessed? How many break ups and deluded individuals did he witness being subjected into this unforgiving form of torture masked as a celebration?
With practiced grace earned from years of service, he maneuvered his way around the tables, quickly approaching his target, he offered the opened bottle, "On the house."
-New York, September 2016-
The jingling of keys pulled Alex from her lone stupor. She was crouched down on the floor of her bedroom, the door to her room wide open as she spied Paul walk through holding two bags of groceries in one hand.
I hope he's alone, she silently prayed in her head.
"Honey, I'm home!" He yelled, his eyes landing on her slumped form with a half a bottle of tequila, her skirt pulled almost to her hips exposing her long legs, her eyes red rimmed and her nose pink from all the rubbing from the littered tissue all around her. "Are you drunk?" He slowly spoke, as he gently laid the paper bags on the coffee table, pulling his bag over his head, dumping the keys on the nearest ceramic bowl, padding his way across the expanse of the apartment and slowly sliding down by her door to slump onto the wooden floor.
"Nope," Popping the 'p', lifting the bottle pouring a hefty amount into the singular shot glass, handing it to Paul and lifting the bottle to her lips and taking a large gulp, savoring the burning sensation as the golden liquid slide down her throat. Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, "But I'm getting there."
"Are you okay, Lex?" Paul timidly asked, his own brow crinkling with concern. Studying his friend again, watching in rapt attention mixed with confusion as tears pooled and slowly made their trek down the apple of her slowly reddening cheeks. "Your not having second thoughts about the engagement, are you?"
Sniffing and trying to stop the flow of tears, Alex could not voice out her confusion. How can she word out what she's feeling, when she herself does not even understand what is going on with her. "I love him, Paul." Sniffing again and turning to reach for the bottle with the golden concoction, "Or at least I know I love him." Her eyes watered again, her sniffles echoing across the silent room.
Would it come as a surprise to him, that Paul did not even feel an ounce of astonishment over Alex's statement? Grabbing the bottle himself and pouring another shot into his now empty shot glass and swinging it back, "Loving someone and trying to convince yourself you love them is entirely two different things, Lex." Paul spoke softly.
Alex nodded, hearing Paul clearly while tears continued to flow. Eyeing her ring finger where her engagement ring sat, studying it on the dim light, watching the light dance across the cut. Her mother was proud of her, for the first time in her life, her mother was actually proud of her.
Or as proud as she could be that her daughter is marrying an eligible bachelor that was at par with her standards.
Palming her chest at the sudden ache that had started to throb, Alex felt her chest tighten again, her breathing getting ragged. Ever since the engagement four months ago, Alex had had this chest pains that she could not quite pinpoint the cause.
Maybe it was anxiety, or fear that was causing it or maybe just the thought of falling short of people's expectations—again. She was not new to that.
"Lex, your engagement's party is in a week and your wedding in less than a month. Are you…" trailing off and exhaling loudly and steeling himself to say the obvious, "If you're not sure about getting married then you have to say something, sweetheart." Paul tried to look at Alex, but her eyes were locked on her ring. Trying to search for whatever reason Alex was suddenly feeling so down.
It had been an endless four months of preparation. Unknown to both of them why the wedding was rushed, but Alex's mother would not have it either way and Tom just went with it. Four months of planning, fittings and organizing. All the while, while Alex tried to juggle it with her busy schedule. It was not easy having the work that she does, it was time consuming and required most of her attention.
Her mother did not make things easy either. Alex was never fit enough or slim enough for her gowns. Alex's choice of flowers was not extravagant enough. Her choice of guests were lacking , the cake was not extraordinary. The church not ostentatious, the reception was not excellent, the catering not world class.
Every minute detail was picked apart and deliberated much but the matriarch of the bride's family's and every single snarky remark and side comment had made Alex shrink even more to herself.
'I don't know how what he sees in you, Alexandria, honestly." As her mother sipped the expensive chardonnay from her crystal glass while they sat at a well embroidered and upholstered soft pink cushion in one of her fittings that was hosted by her mother in her estate. Snorting unladylike into her wine glass at the absurdity of Alex's chosen gown.
Paul on the other hand was trying hard not to pull his hair out at the absurdity of it all.
On the eighth gown Alex tried— while she successfully tried to suck it up and went along with what her mother wanted, a beautiful soft white ball gown, with gold beads scattered throughout, a bare back but was compensated with long sheer sleeves—did Elizabeth exclaimed that that was the dress.
It was gorgeous, Paul thought. But he also thought Alex was drowning in the copious amount of yards of fabric that engulfed the ball skirt that trailed off into a long train at the back.
The bridesmaids were not helping either, they were gushing and screaming their ears off about how Alex looked beautiful in it and how Tom would not be able tot take his eyes off from her all evening. In the midst of the gushing and fawning over, Elizabeth's voice drowned out the rest with one single comment: "My, my, don't you look like a princess!" Clapping her hands together and nodding her head along with the rest of bride's entourage who were present.
Alex's eyes went wide, beads of sweat started to form on her forehead. Paul scrambled to push the other ladies out of the way but to no avail. Paul knew what that word would trigger in his best friend.
The laughter and raucous was suddenly interrupted by a glass breaking, a loud hiss cutting through the air and embedding itself on the three way mirror Alex was staring at, her gaze locked on the lone arrow staring blatantly back at her, taunting her with memories.
"I told those boys to keep away from the house!" Elizabeth exclaimed, running towards the French doors, with one frame cracked with an obvious hole from where the arrow went through, "Sorry!" A male voice interrupted through the French glass doors that lead to the gardens. It was Alex's step father, Henry, with a couple of his friends. Archery had been their most current past time. Golf was always a gentleman's game, but apparently with age, comes with mid life crisis and her step father unfortunately wasn't spared the nuisance. Archery provided Henry with a past time that made him feel vigorous, dangerous and adventurous at the same time.
Oblivious to her daughter's current state and the shocked but amused state of the rest of the entourage, Alex's gaze was still completely locked on the lone arrow. The black and brown feathers that make up the fletching staring at her mockingly.
All of a sudden, her memories were bombarded with a series of images, flashes of blonde hair, icy blue eyes. Her ear tingling at almost hearing his velvet smooth voice, speaking a language that only she—in that cramped up room—seemed to understand.
Paul scrambled, this time more determined than ever, as he reached his friend just in time to catch her as she fainted to the shock of her mother and the rest of the bridesmaids in the room.
"Alex?" Moving his gaze to his friend who was still slumped on the floor, his eyes raking over her pitiful form as realization slowly hit him. "It's 'him' is it? The arrow? It brought your memories of him is it?"
Both their memories taking them to the same incident that occurred two weeks ago.
Alex did not move for a second, the only telltale sign that she heard him was the slight tilting of her head. She had not thought about 'him' for years, why now? After all this time, after all the therapy and medications, why now?
After almost a full minute of silence, Alex turned her head, her eyes blank, devoid of emotion and tears. "Its pathetic, I know." Rubbing her chest as another pain yet again began to surge, "I'm pathetic. How can I still be haunted by memories of someone who was not real?" Frustration lacing her tone.
"Sweetheart," crawling the short distance between them, Paul moved his arm around Alex's frame and tuck her head under his chin, "I believe you, you know that right?" Feeling Alex nod, he continued, "And obviously you still have not moved on from this. Are you sure you want to go through with the wedding?"
Alex remained silent. It did not help matters, that her mother had demanded that wedding take place in Italy and what a prefect coincidence that the engagement party be held at Alex's grandmother's estate in Fontanellato.
"Alex? What do you want?" Paul's soft voice wafted to her ears, his eyes absently searching the dark apartment but his attention was on her.
Sitting upright and moving to grab the almost forgotten bottle of tequila, Alex took a swing and offered the almost empty bottle to Paul who in turn took the last gulp. "Tom is special." Inhaling and steeling herself, jutting her chin out and making a final decision, "I am marrying Tom."
"Attagirl." Paul smiled, "I'm still going to be your maid of honor right?" He haughtily added, "cause I would shave all those bridesmaids' hair, if you even attempt to think about replacing me with one of them."
"Wouldn't have you any other way." Both snickered. The earlier bout of self pity momentarily forgotten.
Little did they know, fate was about to throw the biggest curve ball a week after.
0-0-0
AN: i am so sorry for being MIA for the past month. i have excuses but i know they will not help my case of disappearing and leaving some of you hanging after the last chapter.
okay, questions! i have questions and i will try my best to answer them and clear a few things for some of you. special s/o to pineapple-pancake for raising the questions =)
1. how is that he let a child marry him? (15y.o)
-okay, this one i was actually expecting to raise a few brows and it did. Knowing that ME is medieval at best when it comes to traditions and practices, i decided that they might have some similarities with the middle ages' practices and traditions. as you might expect, the answer varies depending on gender, time, place and social class. Generally, speaking: girls marry younger than boys, upper class girls marry younger than middle class and lower class ones, marriage for both girls and boys creeps upward towards the end of middle ages. the most systemized example of girls marrying super young is late medieval italy, and economic considerations are a big driver of these trends. canon law following 12th century set lower limit on marriage at 12 for girls and 14 for boys. gratian set the lower marriage ages to 12 and 14 based on the idea that girls and boys were intellectually able to understand and consent to marriage. If you followed closely at the previous chapters, that although alex was viewed by elven standards as a child, it was commented that by standards of the race of men, she was already at a marrying age. at those times, it was nothing illegal to have a girl of fifteen age to consent to marriage-not that alex knew that that was a law-take note she was young and was easily besotted with an elf. although i wanted to keep the age difference respectable, it does not compute properly with the times of ME and the possible traditions similar to middle ages, although i understand that in our present time, the age difference might present a bit of a problem. but don't worry, since our characters still have a lot of maturing up to do and there is still plenty of obstacles they have yet to face. I don't want this a love at first sight thing, but a slow burn of personality clashes. =) oh and the glaringly obvious *wink*wink* will be tackled in upcoming chapters =)
the character of legolas, as i based him on the movies, presented a much more rugged and cold elf in the hobbit and a more calmer elf in lotr which i think an amazing tiny detail by orlando bloom, knowing that Legolas was still young years before the event of lotr, and he had to callous during his younger years hence why i painted him that way in his flashbacks. =)
2. mystery of alex grandmother
-as much a i would like to dive into this i can't without giving too much away. so please bear with me, when i say that everything will be cleared out in time=)
3. grandmother's treatment of alex and her safety or letting her wander alone in ME
-take note that aemilia indulged alex's imagination with her stories, so knowing that alex liked to pretend play some of those and her love for outdoors, it took sometime for aemelia to realize that her granddaughter was actually telling her real stories about real people. on the second chapter it was only after two moths of alex disappearing oof to ME that aemelia found out that her granddaughter's stories are true -by alex speaking elven language- by then it would be suspicious if she was to suddenly ban alex from playing outside. also take note that time passes differently between ME as commented by alex with her convo with paul, sometime time does not pass at all and alex would return to her own world without feeling like she disappeared at all. again, as much i would like to expound on this, i might spoil the story for everyone ..so please bear with me.
4. why was she introduced to elven society if it was so risky? wait for her to mature or have her live with elrond or galadriel...
-this will be further explained in following chapter. as for living in another elven realm, mirkwood elves if i am correct and from my interpretation of them in this story, are not friendly with elves from other realms. having been exposed to the horrors of barad-dur, they been confined to relying on their own and having their supposed princess live in another realm is an option that might not sit well with thranduil(as i am drawing my character of thranduil from the hobbit movies).
i hope i cleared a few things and was able to answer your questions, though i knew more questions are about to come..=)
next chapter will be my christmas gift to all of you. =) xoxo