Note: This is my favorite song so I'll write it all - okay fine, copy paste it. I saved this beautiful song just for this chapter. I'm also attaching the music video so you can listen to it as you read this chapter. Enjoy!
Song: 'You Are The Reason' by Calum Scott
There goes my heart beating
'Cause you are the reason
I'm losing my sleep
Please come back now
And there goes my mind racing
And you are the reason
That I'm still breathing
I'm hopeless now
I'd climb every mountain
And swim every ocean
Just to be with you
And fix what I've broken
Oh, 'cause I need you to see
That you are the reason
There goes my hands shaking
And you are the reason
My heart keeps bleeding
I need you now
And if I could turn back the clock
I'd make sure the light defeated the dark
I'd spend every hour, of every day
Keeping you safe
And I'd climb every mountain
And swim every ocean
Just to be with you
And fix what I've broken
Oh, 'cause I need you to see
That you are the reason
I don't wanna fight no more
I don't wanna hide no more
I don't wanna cry no more
Come back I need you to hold me (you are the reason)
Be a little closer now
Just a little closer now
Come a little closer
I need you to hold me tonight
I'd climb every mountain
And swim every ocean
Just to be with you
And fix what I've broken
'Cause I need you to see
That you are the reason
........................................................................
ELIJAH'S POV
"I wish I could go with you, Hannah, but flying is prohibited for me, plus the construction sites now make me nauseous, too," Marge said.
"I understand, but I still wish you were coming. What if I messed up something?" She asked nervously.
"You won't; we covered everything; now trust yourself because I do. Plus, I've trained you better than the last person," she peeked at me. "Besides, I'm just a call away; hit me up anytime you want, unless I'm sleeping or eating. Don't worry and be confident. Now, if he gives you any trouble, just tell his dad; he'll straighten him out." I shook my head internally, "Though, something tells me he won't," she looked at me again but this time with a meaningful stare. A hidden meaning that is.
I know Marge is trying to ease her, yet she looks anything but at peace. The dread of this trip has been written all over her face since the second dad told her.
I can't say I blame her; I'm not exactly the company she wants to be around.
But you still want her around you, knowing she doesn't want to.
"Margaret, we're getting late; the plane won't wait for us," I intertwined.
"Yeah, it would. It's your plane," she rolled her eyes. "Anyways, you guys get going, okay?" she hugged Hannah.
In a little time, they've become quite close. That's Marge for you. If she sees potential in someone, she wants them to succeed. She likes people who are passionate about their work and who strive to think outside the box.
What are you saying! That she's passionate? Aren't you the guy who called her incompetent and called her names?
"Hey, you, wait! I'm not done talking yet." Just when we were to leave, she had to stop again.
"Marge, you just said we..."
"I don't care what I said," of course, she cut me off. "Hannah, you get going; I just need to talk to this one, okay?" Hannah nodded and left the room.
"Now, you!" she pointed at me sternly. "Be on your best behavior, alright."
"I'm not a child, Marge; this isn't my first business trip." I held back the urge to roll my eyes.
"I'm not talking about business, you idiot," only she can get away with calling me that, "I meant with her. She's terrified of this trip as is, thanks to you, and who can blame her?" She paused to calm down a little. "It's her first business trip; she's bound to make mistakes just like you and I did when we started. Big deal. You'll be there to rectify them and correct her. This doesn't mean she's not talented; she's a good kid, she's natural. Just be supportive and build her confidence back; that's down the hill because of you. I'm sure you know what you have to do. Don't repeat what happened that day, okay?" She looked at me for affirmation as she patted my arm.
It shouldn't have happened in the first place. No one regrets it more than I do and I don't like having regrets. I'll be damned if I lose my temper like this again.
Sure, I wanted to destroy her when we started, but along the way, that desire didn't feel strong enough; it was taken over by something stronger than my will to have my way.
That doesn't take away the fact that I've made her life miserable. I was seeing things that weren't there. I was so blinded in rage over being so powerless in my life that I took it all out on her, even when she wasn't at fault. I guess I had a hard time accepting that my opinion of hers was wrong.
I've gone beyond myself to hate her for things that she didn't do just to gain back my sense of power and believe that I'm still in control, but somehow it's all falling short.
All that I did to her doesn't seem justified now, and it feels so shallow and small of me to think about what I've become. Maybe things could've been much different if I wasn't so preoccupied with my self-indulgent notions and had a different approach to it. If only.
I'm not saying I would've fallen in love with her and spent my life with her; that's still not an option, and not because it's something about her, but because I don't feel that way towards her; I don't love her; I can't love her.
But if I were to keep an open mind, maybe these two years that we have to spend together wouldn't have to be off to such a start as we had, which was ugly and messy.
I think it's still not too late to turn things around. That's why, when Dad proposed that we go on this business trip together, I didn't object to it.
'You wanted this, didn't you?'
I gave Margaret a single nod, assuring her and myself. I don't know how, but I have to make this right.
"I've got this, Marge." I gave her a hug.
"I don't know what your deal is, but whatever's going on between you two, I hope you'll be able to figure it out," she whispered sincerely in my ear. I didn't say anything but nodded internally.
Parting ways with her, I entered the hallway where Hannah was waiting for me by the elevator. But she's not standing there alone.
"What are you doing here?" I asked in a stern voice.
"Talking," came an aloof response.
"I told you to stay away from her, Eva." While her eyes shone with malice, another pair of eyes shot up at me with astonishment.
"Don't worry, I didn't bite your wife," she said with a straight face.
"No need to create a scene, Eva. I'll talk to you when I'll come back," I tried closing the matter.
"I should be going with you; you know, I'm the project manager," she retorted with folded arms.
"You're right, you should go," I said. "But once we're back, You're not needed for now." I tried answering as professionally as I could.
"I can see why." I can tell she took it the wrong way by the way she looked at Hannah. "Enjoy while it lasts, princess; contractually bind or not, it won't be long before you're not his new flavor of the month," she shrugged her shoulders at her, smugness written all over her, "until he crawls back to me. He always does," she gave me one last look before she left us alone in awkward silence.
Great start to our trip.
"We should get going," I said, cutting the silence short. She complied but didn't say anything and followed me to the elevator.
The ride from the elevator to the parking lot was quiet, as was the ride from the parking lot to the airport.
I can see the awe on her face as she took in the sight of my private jet. Though, unlike others, she isn't going gaga over it.
Wait, is that awe or hesitation?
It's almost seven in the evening; the sun has already set. The blazing sound of the aircraft and the dimly lit runway, along with the windy breeze that's blowing her tresses on her face, are disrupting my vision, making it harder to see her emotions.
Nonetheless, she ascended the stairs as the cabin crew led us in. The pilot and air hostess greeted us as we took our seats across each other. The pilot asked for permission to fly, which I granted as I buckled myself. It was then that I saw her fumbling with her seat belt, her hands shaking slightly.
Usually, she's the one to take in the interior of any place she goes to with great fascination, intrigued by the opulent designs, but not today. Today she showed no interest in any of this; in fact, as her eyes roamed around, they weren't of appreciation but rather alarmed.
And here, I thought my plan was luxurious.
"Do you need help with that?" I asked as I saw her struggle.
She looked up from her task at hand and shook her head, but I noticed the small beads of sweat forming on her head. She finally succeeded and leaned back in her seat.
I can see dread on her face. Is she afraid of flying? I could've never guessed.
"Hannah, are you alright?" I asked as she wore her headset.
"I am," she said unconvincingly and then closed her eyes.
I, on the other hand, continued observing her every reaction. Her eyes are clenched shut, her grip on the armrest is tight, I can hear the music blasting from her headset, and her breathing is slightly irregular too. I can tell she's doing breathing exercises in disguise.
Yup, definitely scared.
She's not only afraid, but she's stubborn too.
I huffed and unbuckled my seat belt when the air hostess interrupted me.
"Sir, kindly keep your seatbelt on; we're about to fly." She smiled with professional politeness.
"Just a minute, Daisy," I said, stopping her.
"Do you need anything, Mr. Norman?" asked the young hostess.
"Can you check if she's okay?"
I have a feeling she wouldn't have told me even if I asked her myself; as I said, she's stubborn.
"Certainly," she nodded and headed towards her.
"Ma'am," she gently shook her, catching her attention. "Are you alright?"
"Why won't I be?" she asked quizzically.
"You seem a little stressed; is there anything I can do for you?" Daisy maintained her soft demeanor.
"I'm fine, thanks. It's just that it takes me a while to adjust in confined spaces," she explained, and I pretended to be busy on my cellphone.
"I understand, it's quiet normal, especially in commercial flights," Daisy smiled at her. "But this plane is quite spacious, and there's plenty of room for you to roam around to put you at ease once the seatbelt sign goes off. And if you're still worried, know that we have a very experienced pilot flying us, so this should be a very smooth flight," she assured her.
"I'll keep that in mind, thanks," she said, giving her a smile that made it harder for me to look away.
Not that she didn't know all that Daisy told her before, but I guess saying out loud what was bothering her helped; she's looking a little more at ease now than before.
In that case, I'm glad I didn't ask her myself.
"You're welcome. Is there anything you need before we take off?" Hannah shook her head. "Beverages will be served shortly. Have a safe flight with us," she announced before she left.
The plane took off, and in a few minutes, the seatbelt signs were off. The drinks were served, but neither of us initiated a conversation.
I can see she's comfortable now reading a book, but I still wanted to know if she's okay.
Before, she used to initiate conversations, but not anymore. I thought I'd be thankful for it, but now when she's in a room, it's filled with a nullified void. Her full-of-life personality has faded somewhere in the background; it still comes out sometimes but never when I'm around. Around me, she's always quiet and lifeless; even when we're fighting, she's lost her fieriness.
And whose fault is it?
It is a six-hour flight; it's going to be a long night.
Oh, look how the tables have turned. You are bothered by her silence. It's ironic, isn't it?
Putting all the thoughts aside, I got busy with my work, occasionally sneaking a glance or two at her-maybe more. Shortly, the food was served, and that too was eaten in pin-drop silence. The only faint sound heard was the clanking of our cutlery.
She was looking out of the window now and into the distance, lost in her thoughts. The cloudy sky outside was dark, we were flying over the ocean, and the only signs of the Earth appearing through fog were the blurred skyscrapers.
"Are you afraid of flying?" I finally asked.
"No," she continued looking at the serenity of the view outside.
"Have you been to LA before?" I tried to strike up a conversation.
"No."
How am I supposed to convince her to stay when she won't even look at me, let alone talk?
"Do you..." Seeing how uninterested she was in talking, I dropped the idea of prolonging this one-word conversation further; I don't think she even realized that I was trying to initiate one. "There's a bedroom at the back if you want to rest."
"Sure," she agreed like she couldn't wait to get away from my presence, and without meeting my eyes for once, she got up and left.
Yeah, that didn't sting at all.
I racked my hands in my hair in frustration; I didn't think it'd be so hard. Not only is she not talking, but I also don't know what to say.
I've never had this problem; I never had to be the one to initiate a small talk. I've always enjoyed my silence. In the past, when I was with any girl, I would've craved for this quietness; I've always had their attention-in fact, too much of it. But now here I sit alone in the cabin, unable to concentrate on my work and failing to fill in the void that lies heavy on me.
It's not your silence that's bothering you; it's hers that's loud and deafening.
Indeed, the tables have turned.
I shut my laptop, closed my eyes, and leaned back in my seat.
If this six-hour flight is so doomed, I can't say I'm looking forward to the next six days.
...............................................................
We landed in LA after midnight, and now we're heading down to our family beach house. The hustling, bustling city has gone quiet at this hour, and its maddening chaos is at bay. As our car rolled down the still streets of the city of angels in the darkness of the night, its peaceful surroundings put me a little at ease. Hannah is looking out of the window as we bypass the empty roads, leaving behind the trails of dewy trees and their dark shadows casted by the streetlights.
We finally reached the beach house, and the soft and smooth sound of tranquil sea waves instantly had a calming effect. I looked at Hannah as she took in the sight; the glee that had been missing all day could've been seen in this moment, and all her tiredness just evaporated, replacing it with a refreshing awe that I'd missed all day. A fulfilling look of content embraced her.
We both stood at the patio, overlooking the ocean blues for as far as eyes could see taking it all in-the glistening of the wet sand, the irregular but even rumbles of waves, and the ripples of salty wind hitting the senses, instantly relaxing the nerves.
My eyes caught sight of her face, and they forgot to look away. Her face was illuminated with radiance, one that tells you this is where her heart belongs. I could tell she was sleepy and tired, but at the same time, she didn't want to blink, afraid that this might be a dream. She looked dreamy, alright.
I don't know how to explain this moment. It just felt so complete, fulfilling any desire one could have at this very moment.
This is all I've ever wanted-this peace that I'm feeling right now-no heaviness, nothing holding me back from my past, a blank mind with no guilt.
Just pure bliss of nature, a serenading view, and her.
It's been almost five years since I last visited this beach house, and I didn't think I was ready to be back here. This place holds so many memories that I don't want to relive, the past that I find difficult to escape. But right now, as I stand here looking at her beautiful face shining brightly in the moonlight, I feel those haunting memories have been left far behind. All that matters is now.
"Beautiful," I was so lost, taking in every inch of her face, that I didn't realize when the word escaped my mouth.
"It really is," she said, taking a deep sigh, still lost in the scintillating landscape.
Her trance broke, and it was then that she realized that it was her, whom I had been looking at all along and not the view. She is my view.
Our eyes held.
This is the first time she's really looked at me since yesterday. While we prepared the post-construction presentation and discussed the design layouts with the whole team, she made sure her attention was on anyone but me. The same thing happened during our flight too.
But now, as I look deep into her hazel green eyes, my breath hitched. The yearning that I was feeling inside me, I could see glimpse of it in hers too. I can stay in this moment all night long, standing on this breezy patio next to her with just our eyes talking, having a language of their own, telling stories that we don't tell each other and saying words that are never spoken.
It's a new feeling-one that I haven't experienced before, one that can't be named but only felt.
All I knew was that I liked it, and I could tell she did too; I can read it in her eyes. We were standing a few steps apart, but I knew her heart was racing the same way as mine. It encouraged me that maybe I can talk to her; maybe I can convince her to stay, not just because Dad wants it but because I do too. And I have a feeling that if I ask, she won't be able to deny it in this moment.
But before I could act on it, something changed in her eyes, like something broke within her once again-hope. A deep-rooted wound within her came to the surface again, and an ingrown fear took over the intimacy of the moment. The passion was once again replaced by the reality of anguish and despair.
What we felt a few moments ago was gone, and now her alluring eyes only reflected hurt.
Hurt that I've caused over and over again.
A layer of moisture glistened in her eyes, but she quickly looked away. It didn't go unnoticed by me, though.
"I need to sleep; where's my room?" The monotony of dejection was back in her voice; she was back to avoiding me.
It didn't anger me but it sure disturb me.
"Upstairs, to your left, second door," she nodded and left without saying anything further.
"Hannah," I called. Why? I don't know.
"Yeah?" She turned and waited for me to talk, a faint glimmer of expectancy lurking in the shadow of her voice.
But what do I say?
Should I say what I've been wanting to?
"We leave at 8; be ready," I said instead. She gave a disheartened nod and hurried away.
Fuck!
................................................................
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Tension is rising higher and higher.
But the two dummies are unable to channel it.
Both are bothered by the lack of communication, yet both are stubborn, unaware of what's brewing deep down.
Both are trying hard to keep the doors to their hearts shut tight guarding it with every ounce of their strength, but love is like a tsunami; it doesn't care for resistance; it breaks every obstacle and flows in with so much power that no force can withhold it.
They're yet to realize the tug of war that they are playing is of no use but is only a hindrance to what can prove to be a mending of their hearts.
Let's see for how long can they resist this strong attraction.
P.S. Can you tell I enjoy writing Elijah's POVs more?
Such a big business tycoon, yet when it comes to love, our boy is a preschooler with no vocabulary. He can talk in the crowd of thousands of businessmen, politicians, and world leaders, but when it comes down to this one little girl, his tongue and mind both take a hike.
Though he's confused about his feelings, perhaps unaware, despite them hitting him with a speed of 1000/hr, he's on a journey of redemption and self-healing, so it's understandable he is not on par.
You'll get there eventually, baby boy! All of us believe in you.
Whose point of view do you want to read next: Hannah's or Elijah's?
Write your preference in the comments, along with what you liked and what you didn't. Your suggestions and feedback keep me going.
Don't forget to vote and share.
Much love â¤ï¸â¤ï¸