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...Some years later.

It's not about the money you earn, the wealth you own, or which uptown suburb you live in.  It's not even about the number of people you know, or rather the number of people who know you. Or even their status.  Nor is it about the false confidence you carry when you step out the threshold of your home.

It's about the commitment you make. To life!

Clare wrote in a loose, slanted writing as she sat legs folded under her skirt.  A loose ribbon scarf dangled from her pale neck.  The air con blowing hot, stuffy air onto her face, drying her nose. 

She looked up from her writing out to the landscape rushing past the window in a blurred pastel of green and brown. The radio faintly spewed out music through the speakers and she hummed along, resuming her writing.

It's about the time you spend with a loved one.  All those moments you can't wait to be in their arms.  And what you wouldn't give for their laughter.  The intimacy in their voice that makes you feel you'd love them for all eternity. 

"What are you writing?" Brandon asked eyeing her.

Clare looked up with a cheek and bit her lip. "I've decided I want to keep a diary."

"Whatever for?" he chuckled.

Clare contemplated the question and went back to scribbling.

It's for whatever reason you feel alive. It's all the people you love, and the moments you share. The memories churning out from your journey.

"For memories" she finally replied.

Brandon's face grew contemplative as he absently run his hand along her leg.  She grabbed his hand and kissed his palm.

"Like this. I'm making memory for us right here, right now. It's absolutely silly that I just kissed your palm, but" she cracked a cheeky grin, "you'll remember it for precisely that reason. That it was random and that it was ours."

Clare twirled her pen in her hand. "I'm storing our memories," then went back to reading what she'd written so far.

Brandon laughed and turned the volume up on the radio. "Just don't go fanatic about storing memories okay, honey? I'm not sure I'm comfortable sharing you with blank pages of your notebook. I'd miss you too much".

Clare caressed his cheek gently with her hand and went back to write one more thing as Brandon concentrated on the road once more.

And I do love him...more than he knows!

She capped her pen, closed her notebook and threaded the pen through the spirals.  Then she placed it gently in the glove compartment, the sunlight catching the ring on her left hand.  The small diamond glinted rainbows at her.  She smiled.

"No more writing, for now" she promised. "Just stop driving like my nana will you? Or Jack will kill you for being late to his wedding."

Brandon chuckled and stepped on the accelerator.


(Thank you for reading In Strange Company.  I hope you enjoyed the read.
If you enjoyed this book, why not give Charming Mr. Stewart a go as well. I'm sure you'll like it too, and I'd love any feedback and comments that helps me improve. )

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