Chapter 74: Chapter 72

Song: 'Slipped Away' by Avril Lavigne

I've had my wake up, won't you wake up?

I keep asking why? (I keep asking why)

And I can't take it, it wasn't fake, it

It happened, you passed by

Now you're gone, now you're gone

There you go, there you go

Somewhere I can't bring you back

Now you're gone, now you're gone

There you go, there you go

Somewhere you're not coming back

The day you slipped away

Was the day I found it won't be the same, no

The day you slipped away

Was the day I found it won't be the same, oh-oh

Nah-nah, nah-nah-nah, nah-nah

I miss you

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ELIJAH’S POV

The sun wasn’t out yet, and I hadn’t gone to sleep all night; I couldn’t.

I have the world's most beautiful girl sleeping in my arms.

How did I get so lucky? I can watch her beautiful face all night.

Placing a light but long kiss on her forehead, I cautiously got out of bed so as not to wake her up. She’s having trouble sleeping, and it’s the first time I’ve seen her sleep so peacefully in the last few weeks.

Standing on the balcony, I looked at the early morning sea, its soothing waves sounding like a lullaby to the ears. The sand is wet with the tiny droplets of morning dew. I can feel beads of drizzling hitting my face as the wind blows, and the chirping of birds in the distance sounds melodious. Slowly, the sun rose, taking over the darkness of the night and making everything clear in sight. I took a sip of my coffee while taking in Mother Nature at its finest.

Taking a deep sigh, I turned around to check on the sleeping beauty, only to find an empty bed. I sensed the hair on the back of my neck being alarmed as my eyes wandered back and forth all around the room.

Where is she? Where did she go? Is she alright? I was bombarded with a million questions all at once as fear once again started creeping within me. Running all around this big beach house, I looked everywhere, but there were no traces of her whatsoever.

It has not always been like this, but considering the events of the past few days, I’m just extra vigilant.

In a panic, I ran out of the house and onto the patio leading directly to the beach, my breathing ragged from all the running and unknown anxiety making its way into my body when I heard a sound of muffled laughter from a distance.

A smile spread across my face, and I calmed down, knowing very well to whom this beautiful sound belongs, my breathing instantly going erratic, but for a different reason altogether this time.

“You scared me,” I shouted happily, canceling the noise of the wind and loud waves hitting the shore.

“Don’t be scared; I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be with you,” she shouted back. If only I could see her.

“Where are you? I need to see you,” I plead, the longing to see her evident in my voice.

“Not so fast, darling, you have to catch me first,” she screamed happily and ran past me.

And there she was, wearing a gorgeous bridal gown, not caring about the dirt that crept on her white dress as she ran on the wet sand barefoot. I can only see her back from the distance we have between us, but I can tell she looks like a princess—my princess.

I laughed as I ran behind her, all the weight of the world lifting off of me as her delightful giggles filled the air with light and love. Her long golden locks swayed with the morning breeze, making it a sight to behold.

“Hey, wait for me; we’re not seventeen anymore,” I huffed as I stopped to take a breath.

“Hurry up, Elijah, you’re going to lose me,” she yelled without turning.

“I’m never losing you, princess,” I said sincerely.

“I know, now come on, run faster, you old hag,” she teased evoking a laugh from me.

I ran faster and faster, but somehow the distance between us only got bigger and bigger, to the point that I could no longer see her clearly, just a blurred, distant figure.

“Rachel!” I shouted.

“Come on, Elijah, hurry up.”

“Rachel, where are you?” I shouted again as I looked all around me.

“I’m here, baby, right in front of you.” I could hear her voice next to mine.

“Rach, this isn’t funny; where are you?” I can feel the tears stinging my eyes as panic overtook me.

“Hey, don’t be scared,” she said, holding all the calm of the world, but it didn’t comfort me. “I’m right he…”

I heard a gunshot from afar, and everything stood still. The ragging waves stood still, and the morning birds went quiet. The light of the sun seized shining, replacing it with a gloomy darkness. The drizzling that felt nice and cozy before now pricked my skin like wild thorns.

I ran like a maniac, like a retarded dog, just to somehow conquer this overbearing distance between us, calling her name over and over again. I can still hear her voice, but it is incoherent now. I can tell she is calling my name, but it’s filled with pain and torment, like cries for help.

I sighed peacefully once I saw her standing still, watching the swirling tides. Just a few steps separated us. She didn’t turn around but kept looking ahead.

“Don’t run off like that ever again.” I put my arms around her from behind. “You know I can’t live without you.” I placed a thousand kisses on the back of her head.

“And you won’t have to,” she said, turning within my arms. “No matter where I am, I’ll always love you, Elijah.” I looked quizzically at her.

A smile is plastered on her face, yet the tears are running down her face as her eyes turn pale and start drooping until they become unconscious.

“Hey Rach,” I patted her face, but she didn’t respond. I fanatically shook her, but she was unresponsive. It was then that I saw blood oozing out of her stomach.

“Oh my God, Rachel, honey, hey, wake up.” I shook her again. “Hey, it’s not funny; get up. No, no, no, nooooo…”

I kneeled on the sand with her in my arms, pressing on her wound to stop the bleeding and wake her up as uncontrollable tears blurred my vision.

“Rach, wake up.” My voice was so hoarse from crying and screaming that it came out only as a whisper. I shook her lifeless body with no energy in me.

I looked around me only to see blood everywhere; the bright blue sea had turned a murderous red, and the golden sand didn’t look any different. The scene that started as romantic now depicted barbaric bloodshed. The white of her dress was nowhere to be found, nor did my clothes hold their colors; everything was quenched with blood.

“Rachel!” I made another futile attempt, a lifeless push.

“Rach!”

“RACHEL!”

I woke up with a scream, drenched in sweat, and panting for air. I gasped in fear and wiped my tear-stricken face with shivering hands. It took me some time to get back to my senses.

Different night.

Same dream.

This is the second time I’ve had this dream this week.

No one knows about these dreams; I never shared them with anyone except for my therapist, not even with my family. Why? I don’t know; I just never had the courage to share this with anyone. It just feels too personal.

This is why I never stay the night during those pesky one-night stands. No one can know about them.

At first, they were so livid and frequent that whenever I closed my eyes, I’d see this recurring nightmare. I went days and days without sleeping, which triggered my insomnia. Therapy didn’t help, but medications did, so I stopped going eventually.

The medications didn’t hold up in the long run either; no matter how strong the dose was, I’d still wake up with the same nightmare. I remember chugging half a bottle after being awake for three days straight; obviously, I lost consciousness and was taken to the hospital. I’m not proud of it, but I can’t change the past.

With time, the frequency of these dreams lessened, and so did the need for sleep. It’s been years since I haven’t slept for more than four hours if I’m lucky.

You’d think by now I must be used to them, but no, in these four years, their intensity has only increased if anything.

And here, I thought I'd left those memories behind. Clearly not.

I unlocked my iPhone and opened the last picture I’d taken.

Her picture.

I touched the cellphone screen, trying to replicate the feeling of touching her beautiful face. I zoomed in to take in every inch of her alluring features that are etched in my memory. I don’t often look at her pictures; it’s too painful to look at her and not have her around. But looking at her beautiful smile brought me comfort tonight, though mixed with sadness. A glimmer of a smile sneaked on my lips.

It’s a picture of this beach house, the place where I felt happy for the last time.

But up until last week, I didn’t think I was ready; maybe I’m still not.

Perhaps a jog before sunrise might help calm down my nerves. I need to get out of here; there’s so much on my mind that I need to declutter.

Dressing up in a tracksuit, I left my room when I halted in front of Hannah's door. For a split second, my mind forgot all about the nightmare or why I needed this walk. I contemplate checking up on her, more like seeing her.

Just as I was about to twist the doorknob, a thought stopped me.

Am I being distracted?

Why is it that when I’m around her, the memories fade into the distance, and when I’m not, it’s her thoughts that occupy me? That has never happened before.

Is she making me forget about Rachel?

She can’t; no one can!

Conflicted between the past and present, I decided against it. I let go of the doorknob and moved away.

I guess it’s pretty clear which path I’m taking.

After a long run on the beach, I got back. I can’t say it was of great help because it doesn’t let me escape the nightmare but rather forces me to relive it. The only comfort is that all this while my eyes are open and I can shake away the gut-wrenching images but at the same time it reinforces the reality of what happened.

It wasn’t a complete failure either, though; it gave me an open mind and some time to dwell on other things that I’m feeling and the distractions I’m leaning towards.

Feelings! What a strange word. It’s astonishing to me how I’ve spent the last four years running away from them, and I succeeded too; I was able to shut out the whole world like nothing mattered. I lived in the solace of my past that slipped away; I lived in the past while being in the present, having no outlook for the future. Up until now, nothing excited me. I lived a robotic, monotonous life, but it’s changing, and I didn’t even notice it.

And of all the people, it’s her who’s doing it. Never in a million years could I have guessed that it'd be her to make me feel again and ignite a passion that makes me alive again. Though it started as hate.

Hate—now that’s one strong feeling. I should’ve realized then that this girl is trouble.

Oh, she is trouble, alright. She’s creeping her way inside your head, but it’s not for the reasons you think. If she's trouble now, just imagine how lethal she’ll be to you once you will know the real her.

I guess that’s the problem—that she’s still a mystery to me. I think it intrigues me how unpredictable she is, and on top of that, how headstrong she is, it doesn’t matter to her who I am. She is the only one who meets my eyes head-on, doesn’t feel star-struck, stands her ground, and puts across what’s on her mind without being intimidated by me. Well, she used to until I scared her off for good.

It’s intriguing how she has a childlike quality that irritated me so much in the beginning, and now, unknowingly, I miss it. But at the same time, she’s mature enough to handle tricky situations, like she has experienced so much in life. And on top of it all, how unaffected she is by things happening around her, her resistance to not giving in and pushing me away—it’s something I truly haven’t experienced.

I think what intrigues you is how a girl has so much access to you and isn’t jumping your bones. Cocky much!

It’s frustrating because there’s always an unseen tension between us that I can now acknowledge, but somehow it’s thrilling too.

And more than that it's scary because I don't think I'm ready to act on it in any way. She's dangerous for me and I don't want to walk that path again where there's only hurt at the end of the tunnel.

I took a cold shower and quickly got ready. When I got down, the breakfast was already served by our house manager.

Surprisingly, I didn’t have to wait for her to come down because she was already in the kitchen dressed and having breakfast when I arrived.

Since when did girls stop making men wait for eternity to get ready? It also has to be something I’ve seen for the first time in my life. Mom still tests Dad’s patience to this day by making him wait forever.

Especially if she’s looking like this. She’s wearing business casual attire, black slacks with a white tee shirt, and a black and white striped blazer on top, minimally accessorized with diamond studs and a Gucci wristwatch. Her face has a little amount of make-up on it—nothing over the top as usual, just a little something accentuating her natural features—and for the first time, she has hair in a ponytail. She looks just like her usual self, but somehow more put-together.

Is something wrong with my eyes, or has she grown more beautiful in the past couple of months?

Wait!

Beautiful?

More?

Remember the time when you couldn’t stand her face? When and how, but you’ve come a long way from there. Now you look for excuses to stare at her.

No, I don’t. She’s still the same, and so am I.

Denial, perfect! Just what you needed.

We ate our breakfast in silence and then headed out to leave for the office.

“Mr. Norman, can I talk to you?” I was on my phone when she called me.

Is she really initiating a conversation today again?

And why is it causing a flutter in my heart?

“What is it?” I asked with my straight, usual expressionless face to not give away the thumping of my heart, but it came out much stronger than I intended. Oh well.

“Do you think we should change the elevation of the reception desk from the right corner to the center? I think it’ll give us more room to explore the beach view, and it’ll give the lobby a wider inception. It’s just a suggestion; of course, the final decision will be yours.” She showed me two different slides, totally unfazed by my coldness.

Is this what she wanted to talk about? I should’ve known.

There’s a quality about her that I’ve recently come to admire; she never brings her personal resentment to her work, and trust me at this point she must have a lot of it. With the depressive situation we both live in, it's hard to strike this perfect balance between personal and professional, and she’s already mastered this art at such a young age.

Trust me, I’ve seen many people who can't keep the two separate. I guess I’m in that category myself now.

It’s pathetic, I know, but I’m working on it.

“Go with your instincts, Hannah; I trust you.” Wait, what did I say?

I think what I said not only took me by surprise but also her, for her eyes widened for a few seconds.

“Okay, sir,” she said, sounding unconvinced.

“Why are you calling me sir? You can call me Elijah when we’re alone.” If we’re not with people, then why is she being so formal? We’ve gone past that.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Mr. Norman." Oh goodness, why’s she so stubborn?

And since when have I been okay with so much attitude? I sighed inwardly.

We reached our regional office, and at the entrance, We were greeted by Max.

“Hannah, this is Max; he’s our operations manager here, and he’s overlooking all the construction work. And this, Ms. Hannah Evans, our junior interior designer, and my assistant,” I introduced the two.

“Very nice to meet you, Ms. Evans,” the two shook hands, but I noticed Max’s eyes lingering on her face longer than they should and holding her hand longer than necessary, I can see evident appreciation. “You’re younger than I thought. When we received the designs here, we thought Hannah Evans was a seasoned designer; it’s impressive. It’ll be fun working with you; I’m certainly looking forward to it,” he flirted.

"Thanks, you’re very kind,” she answered shyly but professionally.

Max is a smart guy; he climbed the ranks quite quickly and efficiently. He joined us three years ago when we opened an office here in LA and started the project for luxury apartments in Beverly Hills, today those apartments are owned by multiple celebrities and other influential people. He’s a year or two older than me; we have similar heights, and he has a more built-up physique than mine. He's an attractive man by the books, he’s also half French, something that girls find charming about him. Also, he is a player, big time.

You, of all people, should be the last one to judge him.

Not when it comes to my wife.

Wife?

“Is the conference room ready?” I interrupted, reminding him of my presence.

“Yes, sir, this way, please,” he led the way as we followed.

We met the rest of the team, consisting of onsite architects, engineers, and designers. The meeting lasted for an hour and a half about the ongoing construction. We discussed the aspects that need working and that the pacing needs to speed up. Hannah briefly presented the ground floor blueprints and got appreciation from the team; some changes were made based on the suggestions.

All this while, I continued to notice Max sneaking glances at her, to which she seemed oblivious.

Is she really unaware of his attention, or is she just pretending?

“I think we had a great presentation. Thank you for your presence, Mr. Norman and Ms. Evans; it’s great to have you here. We all can take a half-hour break; refreshments have been arranged. After that, we can visit the site.” Max gave the end credits to officially finish the meeting.

The refreshments table was arranged within the conference room, and everyone got busy chatting all the while filling up their plates. Hannah seems to be adjusting with the rest of the team quite well; she just has a friendly demeanor about her personality that instantly makes her likable to people.

So now you finally see her as friendly and not a flirt? Talk about overnight progress.

I was talking to one of the senior managers while having coffee by the table when my eyes caught Hannah and Max standing alone, talking to each other and laughing. Even from a distance where I’m standing, I can see the lust in his eyes and how they roam around her body occasionally. My grip tightened around the mug's handle.

Is she enjoying this attention she’s getting from him?

It’s just been two hours since they’ve met!

I know he’s a womanizer, but this is not appropriate at all.

Why are you being so bothered? This isn’t the first time he’s flirting with a female employee; you never minded it before.

Those women weren’t associated with me, so they weren’t my problem; they were independent women free to make decisions for themselves.

As opposed to what, your wife? Oh, my bad, your on-paper wife who’s free to date anyone out of this sacred wedlock. Hypocrite!

“We should get going,” I interrupted their merry interaction. The smiles fell from their faces pretty quickly. Good.

I can see from the corner of my eyes that she’s observing me; if so, then she should know I’m not happy about this.

Not sure why she should care?

"Certainly, Mr. Norman. We’ll be out in five,” saying that he left us alone.

Awkward silence took over us; she was looking all around just to avoid me.

So she’s comfortable around him, but not me?

“You two are getting pretty comfortable,” I said.

“Excuse me?” she asked quizzically.

“Just be careful,” I said instead.

“I’m not sure what that means, but thank you, sir,” she answered in confusion.

Again, sir?

This formal tone of hers is getting on my nerves now.

“Would y…” Before I could say something else, I was interrupted.

“We’re ready, sir; the cars are waiting outside,” Max announced.

The three of us, along with the chief engineer, Samuel, and the site architect, Derek, left. Since the construction site is only twelve minutes away, we took only two cars. Max and Samuel left in one car, and Hannah, Derek, and I followed behind.

.......................................................................

Author's note:

A sneak peek into Elijah's mind and boy oh boy, it is not pretty.

It's horrifying.

Imagine seeing the love of your life die over and over again and waking up to it, just thinking about it sends chills down my spine.

But this is something he's living with for more than four years, these are the images that have become the bane of his existence.

Just imagine, if the dream is so gruesome how cruel the reality would be. That is something that'll be revealed soon.

Meanwhile, Hannah is maintaining her silent treatment much to Elijah's dismay.

For how long can she hold her grounds?

Can he break her silence and succeed in bringing back the Hannah that he's lost?

How will he convince her to stay when she's not ready to have any kind of communication?

Or is it her way to torture him?

Also, what do we think about Max?

Something tells me team Elijah isn't his biggest fan.

Be ready, the business trip is about to get real exciting!

Don't forget to write what you liked, dislike, or generally want to read.

Vote and share abundantly.

P.S., the next chapter drops pretty soon!

Much love❤️