Coming Home To You.
By Jamilla.
Short Story.
Happy Reading.
Arwen Corvetti stumbled across the empty street, never had she been so nervous, not even when she did her college interview and she considered that day to be the most important in her life, well that was before Arwen realised why she was plagued by loneliness and why, no matter what she did, she never felt whole. She loved him but four years ago, on a cold rainy night, she left, she left him, never looking back, until last week.
She was perched on a faded green park bench, smiling at the antics of a small family of swans. She was lost in their innocence and their simplicity, staring at a little one that had not gotten the whole swimming thing just right and was constantly slipping under the surface of the calm waters and lagging far behind the rest. The mother swan, hearing the vaguely unpleasantly squawking of her little one, swung her gloriously white feathered body around. She gazed around, her delicate neck moving elegantly and rushed to the aid of her failing baby swan, after what seemed to Arwen to be a thorough scolding, the mother and her brood swam gracefully away.
It was then she heard it. A soft whistling through the trees, reminded her of a familiar tune. The pain she felt within the vicinity of her chest was almost unbearable in its intensity and broke down in tears as a mistake she did not know she made dawned upon her consciousness. This single event directly lead to her uprooting her life in Orlando and coming home, to Morganville, to James, her James.
Mentally scolding herself for wringing her hands, she took a deep breath and pushed her way into his store. The soft scent of vanilla assailed her nostrils and a small bell went off as she closed the door causing her to jump a bit. James had done well for himself she thought as she turned around, taking the realisation of their shared dream. The dream that they had spent many nights in each other’s arms discussing. Her heart wept at the thought that she’d left him to go the road alone. Her Gran had told her that he had not moved on, but now, she did not know for sure. The shop seemed to have a woman’s touch, in the little things, like the bell at the door, the warm inviting colour of the walls and the soft one of the draperies, along with the way everything was tastefully arranged. It was all so much unlike her James. She was too busy taking in the wonder of the little book store, to notice a guy standing right behind her.
“Mom did it, she said that designing and decorating was a woman’s thing and I had best not interfere,” he chuckled.
Even when they were at odds with each other, he still knew what to say to put her at ease. She closed her eyes, taking in the deep, melodic voice that she missed so much. She turned to him and forgot to breathe. James. Her heart screamed at her to rush into his arms and envelop herself in the smell that was uniquely his but her mind said to wait, so she stood there, held spellbound by familiar green eyes. Oh how he had changed! His lanky teenage frame had filled out to one that someone would think twice before messing with. His previously always clean saved chin, now held a devil may care five o’clock shadow and his dark wavy hair extended a little further than was fashionable down his neck, a little more of him to love, she guessed. Finally finding her voice, she whispered, “James.”
*
She looked like she always did, fresh and innocent but there was a quiet sadness about her now, which was never there before. When he saw her walk into their shop, he had to shake his head because he thought he was dreaming. Her dark caramel skin faintly glowed, her dark wavy tresses were tied simply at her nape with a dark red ribbon, her chocolate brown eyes were a swirl of emotions but her lips were curled up at the corners in a faint smile as she gazed around in wonder.
