I have had strangers help me ever since my father ripped me out of everything, me with nothing but my name. Maybe this is my time to help someone too, if
I can. I got the means; I just crossed my fingers in the hope that there was a way it.
"What?" She queries in bewilderment.
"How would you like the idea of making your brother drink from the cup he made drink from?" I proposed, my words tinged with a hint of defiance.
"Revenge? I would so much love to see him crawl to me for help. But, Ellie, stop fun of me, will you? That is a ridiculous, distant dream coming from me. It is but a bitter invalid dream," Grace responds, her voice laced with resignation and -doubt.
See this one. Does it hurt to be a dreamer? She is so hopeless. Sigh. "It is not , Grace. You have every right to seek justice for what he has done to you.
And if there is a chance to turn the tables and make him face the consequences of his , then why not take it?" I insist, my tone firm.
She looks at me as if I am just blaffing some nonsensical sense. I spring to my feet clutch my purse tightly, determined to make an impact on someone else's life for . "Never, ever curse your dreams, Grace," I declare, my voice firm and . "As they say, all your dreams are valid, as long as you keep the faith."
I meet her gaze, willing her to believe in herself as much as I believe in her. "Find out single detail you can about the company. Whether they are closing it down or are putting up some shares for sale, anything and everything. Do it as soon as , but don't neglect my shop, okay?"
Before she can voice any further questions, I pull her into a tight embrace, silently my unwavering support and determination to stand by her side.
"I'll get going. Traffic will be awful. See you," I declare, a sense of purpose guiding steps as I tap my feet on the floor and wave goodbye to the other employees.
Stepping outside, the rains have already started. But, I think I can still make it. All the the cab is already waiting. I hop in.
They say that people come and go, much like the changing of the seasons. And as I on my own journey, I realize that my season of sorrow and despair is long . It's my time to shine, to radiate warmth and positivity into the lives of those me.
They say people come and go, and so do seasons. My season of sorrow and despair is gone. It's my time to glow, and I can't glow while people around me are gloomy.
It's time to make a change—a difference—to someone!
"What is more delicious than what caught your eye like that? Me or the meal?"
"What?" I snap at his question as he saunters towards me.
"You are lost. I would like to flutter myself and think that it is me you are ogling, but had me from the morning. Unless I am indeed a beauty god, which I doubt." He my head between his arms as he hedges them against the wall.
Today, he is just there. No seductive gestures at all. The admiration for me is still somewhere in his gorgeous orbs, but the panic in them has built an almost curtain in them. If I didn't know him well, I don't know what I would make of look.
"You can be anything to the world, but to me, you are my knight. My beauty god, outshines anything under the sun,. That is why I can't get tired of ogling you," I .
"I am glad that the only Ellie Marrie Riccaford is fascinated by me. This sounds like a dream coming true," he says, faintly, his eyes darting into mine.
"And you?" I implore.
"I am enchanted. I am so in love with you. Having you is like having both the world Heaven in my arms." He says this, caressing my chin.
"Mmh. I love that. But I would love to see the normal glow in your eyes when you that. I would love to see this curtain off your beautiful eyes. Your worries worry to the core, you know that?" I stroked his jaws, boring deep into his eyes and what the issue with his insecurities was.
He urges a smile that does not come out so well. "Your ability to read me like this me," he teases, forcing a grin.
Really? "On the contrary, I love that I can see through you. Can we talk about it ?" I implore.
"Why don't you freshen up first? I will set the table. We can talk after dinner," he says, my cheek.
"Okay." I leave him to carry on with his chores, and I stride outside.
Taking a shower takes just a flash of a second. The thought of the two delicious meals downstairs could not let me waste much time. I dress up na dstep out, a wide splastered on my face.
Finally reaching the bottom of the stairs, I find myself practically leaping towards the , my heart brimming with excitement and anticipation. Ready to devour the meal and lend a listening ear to my beloved, I can't help but hope that will end with a beautiful romance, a perfect ending to a perfect day.
As I reach out to steal a kiss from Damian, the unexpected buzzing of my phone on table disrupts the moment. Confusion clouds my thoughts—didn't I leave my in my purse on the couch? I am sure that is where I left it.
How did it end up here? And on earth would be calling me this late?