Hey guys, just a quick one. Please check my new novel: MISS ANA'S BUTLER. I participate in a contest so your vote and comment are much appreciated. Thank you :))))))
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Her dreams literally came true. She was in Paris and worked as a fashion designer. She should be happy, she should walk around the city with a big smile on her face, greet every person that she meets with "Bonjour," just like what she had always practiced in her French class that she took when she was still at the university. She was so determined to chase her dream to work and live in Paris, and now here she was and she felt miserable.
Sam thought she could sustain her anger and be away from him, but she was wrong. She was lost without him. She barely smiled and hardly concentrated in everything she did. She tried to work harder, went home late, and tried to keep her mind occupied with everything she could find. She even went back to her singing career in clubs, a few nights a week. But nothing could stop her from missing him. She missed him terribly. She missed his voice, his teases, his smile, and most of all, she missed his warm embrace.
She put her mug on the table next to the window and reached into her jeans' pocket. She pulled out her mobile phone and checked her inbox. She opened the first e-mail from him, sent a few days after she left him.
Dear Sam,
I know I am a jerk. I am sorry, I hurt you. I trusted you with all my heart, but my logic tried to find the reason why Manuel was in your hotel room at seven in the morning, dripping wet in his bathrobe. I shouldn't have accused you. I have no right. I should have asked you what's going on, but I didn't do it because I am terrified. I am terrified that you would tell me that you love him instead of me. I wouldn't know what to do. I wouldn't know how to live without you, yet now I am and I feel miserable.
I miss you already. I miss the time when I wake up and see your beautiful face first thing in the morning. I miss everything about you. I didn't know that you were part of me until the day you left.
She stopped reading; her sight was blurred with her tears. She refreshed her inbox, expecting a new e-mail from him, but nothing came up. He'd been quiet for the last two weeks, and it drove her mad. She was too upset to reply any of his e-mails, but after three months had passed, she was scared to contact him now. She was worried that he wouldn't reply back and, most of all, that he finally got over her and moved on. Sam clasped her mouth with her hand and shut her eyes tightly as she tried to stop the tears that streamed out uncontrollably. She bent down and cried. She sobbed loudly until she couldn't breathe.
She looked down at her mobile phone. Her fingers shook; she pressed the call button and brought the phone to her ear. She wanted to hear his deep voice so she could calm down, then she would hang up. But to her disappointment, she heard the automatic operator explaining that he might have switched off his mobile phone and suggested to call back later.
Sam sighed and stood up; she leaned her side to the window's frame. It was too late for her to come into her senses. She signed the divorce paperwork, and every day she waited for the confirmation anxiously. Sometimes she was confident that Luke wouldn't send the paperwork away, but sometimes she was frightened that he would. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. She turned her head toward the window and looked out. She caught a glimpse of a man pacing under the hard rain. She frowned, questioning his sanity. He looked up toward her and held himself still for a few seconds before he turned around and walked away.
Sam jerked up, couldn't believe what she saw, and bolted out the door in a second flat. She ran toward the fire exit then flew down the stairs, breaking the world record by leaping ten floors in less than a minute. She ran as fast as she could, ignoring the rain that poured heavily on her head and soaked her body wet.
"Luke!" she yelled.
The man stopped; he slowly turned his body toward her.
"Luke, wait." She stopped in front of him, panting.
He looked at her, shocked that she could recognize him from up there.
"Please, don't go." She reached for his hand and held it still.
"Hi." He smiled nervously. His wavy hair was flat on his scalp, his wet shirt stuck to his chest. He blinked away water that dripped into his eyes.
Sam looked up at him. "Hi," she replied. She still couldn't believe herself that the man she was missing now stood still in front of her. "Are you here to visit me?" she asked softly.
"Yes," he answered, still nervous. "I am sorry, I should ask you if you didn't mind."
"No, I don't mind. I . . . I am glad that you came," she said shakily; her eyes warmed. "Come on in." She pulled his hand and guided him into her apartment building.
She called the lift and waited. Her heart throbbed against her chest. She looked down to his left hand; she wanted to tangle her fingers into his, but she didn't dare to do it. Her chest hurt when she noticed that he didn't wear his wedding ring.
"How are you?" she asked.
"Wet and cold," Luke answered, trying to break the awkwardness.
Sam laughed. "Why didn't you call me? I could have picked you up from the airport."
"I was going to surprise you, and when I got here my phone broke down from the rain, and I forgot your apartment number," he lied, trying to cover up himself from stalking her.
"Oh," she responded briefly.
"I brought you chocolate. Sorry, it's wet."
Sam took the box from him and hugged it tightly against her chest; she looked down to the floor after saying thank you.
They rode the lift quietly; it seemed like eternity for Sam. She was about to ask him a question when she suddenly had an urge to sneeze.
"Bless you," Luke said quickly.
"Thanks." She blinked, disappointed with his response. Usually he would wrap his arms around her to keep her warm.
"Here we are." She broke the ice when she opened her apartment door and let him in.
"Nice place," he mumbled.
"Thank you. Have a seat. I'll get you a towel," she replied then disappeared into her bedroom.
Luke walked around her living room, checking her bookshelf and TV cabinet. He saw their wedding photo in a frame on the shelf. He smiled, slightly relieved that she still put that up in display just like he did on his work desk and his bedside. He also saw her photo with Manuel, his hand looped casually around her shoulders, and both of them smiled brightly to the camera. They both stood outside the gate of the Versailles Palace. Luke took a sharp breath. Manuel was here in France to visit her, or . . . He looked around and saw a door to another room. Slowly, he walked there and took a peek. He saw a washing machine and a laundry basket behind the door with some dirty laundry in it. He pushed the door slightly so he could see more clearly. He saw men's shirts in the pile. He recognized the shirts but then shook his head. "It can't be," he mumbled. He quickly walked back to the middle of the living room and regained his composure. His heart throbbed loudly inside his chest; she lived with a man in this apartment?
Sam walked out from her bedroom, wearing a warm sweater and pajama pants. Her wet hair was up in a bun. She looked adorable, and he couldn't help but smile. He was clearly upset with his findings in the laundry room, but as soon as he saw her, his heart was enlightened.
"What?" She gave him the towel.
"Nothing," he replied and started to dry his hair.
"Ah, here's your change of clothes. The shirt was yours." She placed a neatly folded white shirt on the couch.
Luke stopped and raised his eyebrows at her. "You have my stuff here?"
Sam looked down, embarrassed. "I like the shirt, so I took it with me. Sorry."
He shook his head, laughed, and thanked her softly. Slowly, he started to unbutton his wet shirt.
"I . . . I'll make us some tea." Sam gasped and quickly walked away to the kitchen.
Sam held her kitchen bench with her shaking hands. She couldn't believe that Luke was there in her living room, soaking wet and looking as sexy as she could remember. She managed to turn on her electric kettle before she dropped her mug on the floor; she cursed under her breath.
"Are you okay?" His voice came behind her, sounding worried.
"Yes," she replied. She started to pick up the broken pieces with her shaky hands.
He held her wrist gently and stopped her from picking up the broken porcelain. "Let me do it," he offered. Quickly he took a dustpan and a broom that he saw earlier from the corner of the kitchen and cleaned up the floor.
She stood quietly watching him. He had already changed into his dry shirt, his hair was mussed, and he rolled his jeans up, showing his bare feet.
"Thank you," she said. She was about to take another mug from the shelf when he reached up and did it. His arm brushed her; she shivered and stood still, letting him make the tea just like the old times when he hung out at her place.
"You're just as clumsy as I could remember," he said lightly, giving her a mug of tea, and held another mug for himself.
"When did you arrive in Paris?" she asked casually, covering up her nervousness.
"This morning. I wanted to see that you're okay." He smiled and sipped his tea.
"I am well as you can see." She smiled back.
He carefully studied her and frowned. "You lost some weight."
She looked down. "I wasn't well last week."
"What? Are you okay?" He held her hands; his eyes were worried.
"Yeah, I am okay, just the flu," she answered, grateful that he still had his old habit toward her.
He looked deeply into her eyes and tried to search the truth behind her words. "You weren't overworked, were you?"
"No, nothing like that," she lied. She could feel his thumb rub the back of her hand softly, and she held her urge to throw herself at him and hug him tight. "I am okay, I promise." She looked up at him but quickly looked away when she felt tears welling in her eyes. But it was too late, he saw it.
"What's wrong?" He pulled her chin with his fingers so he could see her face.
"Nothing's wrong," she insisted and blinked her tears away.
He held her eyes for a while then looked down to her fingers. "Are you seeing someone?" he asked carefully, suddenly sounding defeated. He stroked a diamond ring that circled her finger. "He lives here, doesn't he?"
Sam pulled her hand away from him and covered the ring with her left palm. Her eyes widened. "What?"
"I saw men's shirts in your laundry. I am so happy for you. Congratulations," he said, trying to sound sincere.
She looked into his suddenly pale face; she could see dark circles around his eyes. Apparently, he didn't look as well as she thought. She could also see traces of sadness in his dark brown eyes.
"I am not seeing anyone," she replied softly, bent her head down, and studied her kitchen floor. "I can't." Her voice weakened; she sounded hurt.
He stood there waiting for her to continue, but Sam maintained her silence.
"Why not?" he asked carefully.
"I . . . I just can't."
"Is this because you haven't received any confirmation from the court?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, worried that she would agree with him. "I will tell them to prioritize our case."
"No! Nothing like that," she replied, panicking, looking at his still-pale face.
She stared at him, not knowing what to say. Silence hung in the air before Luke abruptly squared his shoulders. "I think I should go." He walked to the door, too scared to hear any more stories about the love of his life being engaged to another man.
"Wait!" she called him. Her tone sounded angry.
Luke stopped his steps and waited. His back was to her.
"Why are you here, Luke?" she asked.
He turned and stared at her but hesitated to answer her question.
"Answer me, please?" She stared at him with challenging eyes.
"I miss you," he replied shortly and shifted his gaze to the floor.
Her eyes softened. "Then you should stay . . . because I miss you too."
His heart jolted in joy, he walked to the couch and sat down.
Sam followed and sat next to him but not too close. "Why are we doing this?" she asked.
He said nothing.
She sighed heavily. "You and your insecurity." She glared at him and stood up. She walked to the window and stared outside to the rain. "I am so tired of all of this, Luke. Every time we argue, I run away. This is the second time I've run, and I am not going to do it again, and you can't make me." Her fingers clenched on the curtain.
She heard his footsteps approaching her from the back. "I am sorry, I guess I did it again. I accused you instead of asking you what's going on." His voice was soft and calm, and it soothed her.
She turned her head lightly to her side to catch his glimpse. "I was too scared to hear that you've changed your mind about being with me, that you would leave me and make me brokenhearted. That's why I ran away from every argument we had. You're here in front of me now, and I have to face my fear. I want to know your answer, just once, please be honest with me. I want . . ." She swallowed, chewing her lower lip nervously.
Luke touched her shoulders and turned her to face him. "Tell me what you want, Sam." His voice was gentle, his eyes longing.
"I want you." Her voice was low. She lifted her head to gaze at him. "I hope it's not too late."
He stood still; he didn't believe what he just heard.
"I miss you, Luke. I wanted you back so badly, but I was too scared to ask. I thought I could forget everything that happened between us. I thought that by being away from you I could stop loving you, but my life has been miserable. I forgot how to live without you," she whispered, her voice shaky.
"I overworked myself. I started singing again in a club just because I didn't want to go home to my empty apartment. I wanted to be surrounded by people so I could forget everything that happened between us. But some of them started flirting with me, that's why I wear this ring." She smiled bitterly.
"I only want you." She started sobbing. "I've never felt so lonely in my life. I missed you terribly. I thought I went crazy. I asked Jan to send me some of your shirts, and I wore them almost every night. I was hoping that I could feel you. Sometimes you came into my dreams, but when I woke up, you weren't here . . ." She broke down crying; her shoulders shook hard.
Luke quickly pulled her inside his embrace. His hand cupped the back of her head. "I am here, I am right here," he whispered, resting his head on hers. Tears ran down his cheeks. His chest hurt as he listened to her sob. He hated to see her cry, and she cried because of him. He should have come after her as soon as she left, but he was too scared that she will hate him even more. It took him three months to finally come into his senses that he would lose his true love if he didn't even try to fight for it.
Pops scowled at him for the whole three months. Jan had been furious, she refused to talk to him and cook for him for a few weeks, and Pops didn't bother to make her do her job. His parents had been a diligent pair in making him apologize one more time and bring her back to the Russo family.
"Are those shirts in your laundry basket mine?" he asked and then shook his head, listening to his silly question.
Sam giggled in between her sobs. "Is that the only thing in your mind?"
He laughed softly.
"Tell me that I am not too late." She sobered and stared at him with terrified eyes.
He smiled and caressed her hair softly. "I've waited three years for this moment to come. I only love you, Sam." He planted a kiss on her forehead. "I am always yours."
He looked deep into her eyes. His gaze was soft, and it shone with love; his thumb rubbed her cheekbone. "I am sorry I was such a jerk. I was terrified with my love life. I was betrayed, and my parents cheated each other, I thought that was just part of loving someone and I will get the experience sooner or later. That's why I was furious that night. I trust you, but I guess I was eaten by my own fear. I tried to make my fear come true, tried to find any reasons to believe that you'd cheated on me. It took me three months to realize my mistake and face my fear. Build up my courage to see you and beg you one more time to forgive me. I missed you terribly, Sam."
Sam stared at his gentle eyes, overwhelmed by his confession. It all made sense now. "I won't cheat on you, Luke, I love you." She pulled his arms from her cheeks, kissed them one by one, and circled them around her waist. She rested her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. A heavy burden was suddenly lifted off her shoulders. She took a deep breath and buried herself deeper against his chest; she was finally home.
"I didn't send the paperwork. I tried to believe that there's still hope between us," he mumbled inside her hair.
She lifted her head and looked at him. "You are still my husband?" She suddenly grinned.
"Yes." He grinned back. His eyes twinkled.
"Actually . . ." He let go of her and took a half step back. She missed him all of sudden.
Luke stared deeply into her eyes. "I had never asked the question properly, so I will ask you now . . ." He pulled out a pair of wedding rings which were hanging from a necklace hidden behind his shirt. He took the smaller ring out from the chain then went down on one knee. He then took her left hand. "I love you, Sam. Will you be my real wife?"
She clasped her mouth, shocked by his proposal. She dropped on her knees; threw herself at him, almost knocking him off balance; and sobbed hardly against his shoulder. "Yes . . . yes, I will," she answered shakily. Tears of joy streamed out of her eyes.
He pulled himself away so he could see her face; he was beaming at her before he slid her ring back into her finger. "I love you," he said again. His voice trembled, relieved. His brown eyes looked at her full of love.
"I love you too," Sam replied, still crying. She closed her eyes when he arched forward and started to kiss away her tears on her eyelids and her cheeks, and finally, he captured her lips with his. Sam hooked her arms around his neck and pulled herself up so she could deepen her kiss.
They kissed each other hungrily, releasing all the feelings that they held toward each other for so long until they ran out breath.
Sam looked back at him, letting him see her true feelings shining in her eyes. "I am sorry I was mad at you."
"I deserve it. I was a real jerk," Luke replied. He pulled her up and guided her to sit on the couch. She rested herself on his chest. Luke looped his arm around her shoulder. They stayed in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company.
"I really want to apologize about Manu," she started a conversation.
Luke cupped her cheek and cut her off, "Hey, I don't need an explanation. I trust you, Sam, and you're here with me now, that's all that matters."
"Thank you for trusting me, Luke. But I shouldn't have hung out with him too much. I was married to you, I should have been more careful." She tangled her fingers with his.
"I was jealous since the beginning, but I kept it to myself. I knew I didn't have a right to stop you. Only that morning, I heard he was talking to someone before opening the door, his hair was dripping wet, his robe was half open." Luke closed his eyes. "I could hear him calling that person honey. I thought it was you." He looked down to their tangled fingers, his voice low and sad.
"Oh my god, is that what happened?" She straightened up and stared at him with rounded eyes. "That time, we had a photo shoot in Melbourne for our new business suit catalogue, and I took Manu and Jose with me. We stayed in the same hotel. Manu went to my room that morning to use my shower; the one in his room was broken. Jose must have sneaked in when I was out for a jog. I am so sorry. I could understand now why you got to that conclusion."
"Jose?" He frowned. "Are they? Manu is gay?"
"Yes, he is." She grinned. "He tried hard not to look like one. He fooled me the first time I knew him. But he's a very kindhearted. He cares about me so much. He came to visit me two months ago. He wanted to make sure that I was all right." She touched his cheek. "I should tell you first thing, it's not your fault that you were furious."
He laughed. "I was jealous to a gay man?" He shook his head.
"Yeah." She rolled her eyes then laughed with him. "I am sorry, I was too upset to tell you the truth that night."
"I am embarrassed."
She giggled. "Don't be embarrassed. Manu is hot."
"Oh, after you said that, I am not so sure about your feelings for me now." He raised his eyebrows.
"But he can't do what I want you to do to me," she purred. She dragged her index finger along his chest slowly.
He groaned. "You have no idea what you do to me."
"What do I do?" she asked innocently; this time she slid her hands along his torso.
"I like the wild side of you, Wife." He deliberately whispered the word wife to her. His eyes darkened; he breathed heavily.
Sam's heart flicked with joy. She never knew that a simple word could mean so much to her. "Make love to me, Husband." She arched forward and captured his lips.
He smiled between kisses, slid his arm under the back of her knees, and lifted her effortlessly. Slowly he carried her into her bedroom. "You know, you told me once that you wanted to go to Paris for your honeymoon . . ."