Never Let You Go

Chapter 1

Hey guys! So sorry to keep you waiting! Being the wattpad newbie, I accidently clicked ‘save’ instead of ‘save & publish’, but it won’t happen again! Thanks to iiMAPARTYROCKER for pointing it out!

Without further ado, I present Chapter 1 to NLYG! Hope y’all liked the Prologue!

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CHAPTER 1:

(5 years later)

Bacon.

That was the first thing I smelt when I woke up. Not Alana’s usual sweet scent, but bacon.

I bolted out of the bed, towards the kitchen.

Yup, she burnt it.

“Morning chef, I think, maybe, the bacon got a little burnt. Maybe, just maybe.”

Alana turned around from the pan, and smiled sheepishly. She looked hot as hell, even with her bed hair. “Sorry! I thought I could cook breakfast for once, since you never let me cook…”

“And you wonder why I never let you cook?” I shook my head incredulously, dumping the burnt contents into the bin.

She pouted. “Hey! Not everyone’s great in the kitchen like you! And I thought I did great. Though I’d never give up my acting to cook.”

I snorted. “Yeah, you did great. Guys, we’ve got a masterchef here!” I said, my voice laced with sarcasm.

“Fine, be that way! No burnt bacon for you, mister.” She turned on her heels and stomped away. Well, tried to. Before she knew it, I had twirled her around to face me and closed the short distance between us.

My heart sped up; my whole body throbbed with desire. Our lips moved together perfectly, as light tingles shot around my body. She snaked her arms around my neck, pulling us even closer, as my arms slid around her slim waist. I moaned loudly as her nails dug down on my neck, her fingers slid down my bare back. As her tongue ran along my bottom lip, I opened up gladly and massaged our tongues slowly and tenderly.

After what seemed like eternity, I pull away breathlessly and looked down at her glowing face, marveling at how on earth I got so lucky. Her dazzling smiles never failed to amaze me. Last night was simply magical, as always. And tonight, I will propose that she be mine lawfully. I had already planned everything- nothing could go wrong.

I smiled at the thought. Mrs. Alana Worley. It had a nice ring to it.

“Let’s head back to the bedroom,” I said huskily, sweeping her up bridal style. The anticipation was slowly killing me; I couldn’t wait to show her how much I love her again.

She giggled against my bare chest. “So tempting, my hot chef boyfriend, but I’m hungry. I have my annual appointment with Dr. Sullivan at 11, but we can get back to the bedroom later.” She said, winking flirtily.

I glowered at her jokingly as I set her back to the ground reluctantly, and went to make her the best breakfast ever.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As I picked up Alana and drove back from Dr. Sullivan’s clinic, I couldn’t help but sense a strange, new mood in the air. She usually loved to sing along to the radio, but today she was silent.

I turned and looked at her- her angelic face had a small, sad smile. She was twirling a strand of hair absentmindedly, looking out the window at the light drizzle. A sign of nervousness.

She sighed softly and glanced at me from the corner of her eye.

“What’s up, babe?  What did the cancer test results say?” I asked worriedly. She can’t have cancer, I won’t allow it! Her family had had a bad history with cancer, but so far it had shed no signs on her. Yet. I couldn’t bear any chance of her being taken away from me so soon. She still needed to finish drama school and become a famous actress!

She sighed again, and a small smile appeared on her face. “Relax, baby. The results were negative, I’m fine. Dr. Sullivan said not to worry. I’m just thinking about something else, that’s all.” But her eyes told me otherwise. I’d have to find out later on.

The rain started to get heavier and by the time we reached our apartment, it had become a full on downpour. With an umbrella, I bolted out of the car to open her door, but Alana had already gotten out and was rushing past me towards the building. I watched her run across the car park, smiling. She never did like the rain. My smile quickly faltered when she slipped and plummeted headfirst towards the hard concrete floor. Fuck, she’s too clumsy.

“Alana!” I sprinted towards her. Her body was sprawled on the floor, her legs in a weird angle. My heart quickened at the sight of her unmoving head. “Alana! Shit!” I gently lifted her head off the ground, and stiffened. Pulling out my hand only confirmed my suspicion. Blood. And she wasn’t breathing.

Crap.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I paced the floor of the hospital emergency room for the nth time in the past hour. She had to be okay! We had so many hopes and dreams for the future! I’d always know that one day we’d get married, have lots of beautiful kids with Alana’s grey eyes and auburn hair, and grow old together. She was my first and only, and will always be. But deep down, I knew something was very wrong.

“Mr. Worley?”

I looked up to see a nurse staring at me lustfully, her eyes slowly trailing down my body. Are you serious? Whilst I’m waiting for the news that could make or break me, she’s checking me out?

I coughed uncomfortably, and her face flushed crimson. She shifted her toes awkwardly. “Yes?” I raised my brows expectantly.

“Dr. Gillard wants to see you,” She blurted out, embarrassed that I caught her.

I rose without a reply and dashed down the corridor, looking for the familiar face. Nurses and doctors parted for me like the red sea, as some patients gave me stern looks. I turned the corner, and Dr. Gillard stood waiting at the end of the corridor outside Alana’s room. Meet Dr. Zara Gillard, Alana’s girl best friend.

“Tom.” She greeted me grimly when I reached her.

“How is she?” I wheezed, not bothering to greet her.

A pained look crossed her features. Zara paused and looked down at her clipboard, refusing to meet my eyes. I could feel the tension in the air. Something is very wrong. I couldn’t wait any longer.

“Well…”

“Get to the point.”

Finally, she glanced up with a grim expression. She looked like she was having an internal debate. I braced myself. She’s fine, I told myself.

Just as I was about to snap at her, she spoke.

“Tom, she has post-traumatic amnesia.”