May 4
Blanche was gone. Up, up and away. I felt like a child waving goodbye to her at the airport. Watching her disappear behind the security check. She was off to London for three days and then would be heading to Japan. I refused to cry. I beamed with fake joy, as if I were on Broadway aiming for a Tony.
I had my meltdown as I sank into the taxi's grimy backseat and asked the driver to take me to Central Park so I could spend some time on Jean's bench before the sun set.
Then I pushed thoughts of my sister into the back of my mind. I refused to dwell on the nasty messages my mother had left on my phone. I had to concentrate on the future.
It was peaceful here. The birds were busy, twittering about in the nest that I could see so clearly from this vantage point. A few joggers bounced by, followed by a couple of women pushing pink and yellow strollers. I tried to picture Jean, a beautiful and free-spirited young woman running through the grass, stopping to sniff a few daisies. For a moment, her face melded with that of Destiny. I wanted to be like this stranger known to me only through my imagination.
My thoughts wandered back to my own predicament. The question was simple: Did I truly want to see Will?
I knew where I could find him. He was a few blocks away. In a matter of minutes, we could be reunited. What was I waiting for anyway? Jean would have surely jumped at such an occasion.
I sighed and looked down, studying the crumbs left behind from someone's pastrami on rye. A wren hopped over, pecked at them and proudly carried off the biggest one. Why couldn't I be so self-assured and decisive? I shook my head, feeling silly with my comparison. The questions before me might have been straightforward, but the answers were much more difficult. And no, I wasn't making excuses. Of course I wanted to be with Will. But there was one major problem. I had the feeling Will would lead me through more doors that I didn't want to open.
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