by Wilde, Ora
“Happiness,” he answered. “We have happiness.”
His lips approached mine and he started to kiss me. I felt the comforting ardor of his breath, slithering all over the rims of my mouth, gliding towards my chin and around my neck.
And I kissed him back.
I missed him.
I missed him so terribly much.
Happiness, he said. What we had was happiness. A kind of happiness that promised not to yield. A kind of happiness that was poised to weather any storm. A kind of happiness that will be cherished for a lifetime and beyond.
As our lips were locked, our bodies followed suit, and I’ve never been happier. I was with him.
Him.
Nashville Walters.
Loner.
Rebel.
Outcast.
Stepbrother.
Lover.
And the only man with whom I could be myself without having to try to be someone I was not. The only man who makes me feel the way that I do. The only man who I want to be with, regardless of whatever may be thrown our way.
The only man that my heart has, and will always, yearn for.
--- END---
Epilogue
September days were supposed to be humid in Los Angeles. Not as warm as Placerville, for sure, but hot nevertheless.
That wasn’t the case in the campus grounds, however. The cool breeze of the Pacific Ocean that was just a couple of miles away from UCLA made the climate a little more refreshing and invigorating.
The perfect weather for an expectant mother.
It’s been three weeks since I started college. My semester was composed of General Education subjects and a couple of 101’s for my main course. Nothing heavy. I’ve learned most of the topics for those subjects in High School.
And I was on my fifth month of pregnancy.
My tummy has bulged significantly, but it still could be concealed by a clever choice of loose clothing. I didn’t opt for that however. I met new people. I made new friends. And I told all of them that I was pregnant. I expected them to give me contemptuous looks and condemning stares. They didn’t. They smiled at me and expressed how genuinely happy they were for the baby I was about to bring into this world, and how admirable I was for choosing to go to school despite the physical difficulties I was sure to encounter.
College has been a great experience so far. The school’s population was so diverse - culturally and ideologically - that every single day has become a fascinating adventure.
My dad found me an apartment at the outskirts of the campus. It was near Ronald Reagan Hospital. Just in case you need a quick checkup, he said. A dorm would’ve been more affordable. But my dad didn’t want me to be crammed in a bedroom with two or three people. I want you to be as comfortable as you can, he explained. Let me worry about the expenses. He also talked to the landlady so that she could watch over me, considering my condition.
He has always been a loving and caring father.
And I miss him.
And Aunt Susan too.
But I miss Nash most of all.
He promised to visit every chance he could find. But first, he had to find a job where no one would recognize him, he said. He wanted to be a good provider, for me and our baby.
But I haven’t seen him since I left home for college.
We do text each other, though. He was using a prepaid number... hence, there were times - a lot, actually - when he wouldn’t be able to reply because he ran out of load.
Still, I kept my cellphone near me. He would text at any time, and I didn’t want to miss it.
It was a Wednesday afternoon, just after my Communication I class, when I reached for my phone inside my bag and I discovered that it was missing. Instantly, I panicked.
“Shit!” I uttered to Francine, my seat mate and friend who actually made it her responsibility to look after me during my pregnancy.
“Why? What’s wrong?” she asked worriedly.
“My phone’s gone,” I told her as I rummaged through my bag, hoping against hope that it was still there.
“When did you last use it?” she asked.
“Lunch, I think, at the cafeteria,” I answered.
“It might still be there,” she suggested. “Let’s go back and find it.”
We dashed towards the canteen. Many times, Francine reminded me to be careful with my strides. She didn’t have to. Though I was in a hurry, my bloated form made it difficult to run, hence I only managed to walk briskly in calculated steps.
We reached the cafeteria and immediately proceeded to the table where we sat a few hours before. We searched the area, but we didn’t find my phone. I started to sulk in despair.
“Don’t lose hope,” she tried to cheer me up. “Someone must’ve found and reported it.”
“Reported it to whom?” I questioned.
“Lost and Found.”
“The school has a Lost and Found department?”
“Well, not really. People usually leave them with the groundskeeper.”
“The groundskeeper?”
“Yup. His office... well, it’s not really an office... it’s more like a basement that was converted into a barrack... if full of lost items. A lot of people don’t really know about it, so they don’t bother to check.”
“That’s so... antiquated,” I commented. Back in High School, lost items were reported to the Guidance Counsellor’s office, and she would post them on the school’s official Facebook page. I couldn’t believe that an institution as prestigious as UCLA employed such an archaic method for dealing with lost stuff.
Francine snickered.
“Yeah... but you better check if your phone’s there,” she said. “Also... uhm...” She started to blush for some strange reason.
“Francine... you’re flushing!” I exclaimed in surprise.
“Well... have you seen the new groundskeeper?” she asked, her cheeks were still very red. “No, you haven’t, of course. You didn’t even know we had a groundskeeper.” She began to giggle.
“I haven’t seen the groundskeeper, old or new,” I told her.
“Well... the old groundskeeper was... old,” she stated. “But the new groundskeeper...” she continued as her cheeks reddened even more, “he’s so fucking hot!”
Oh.
“Those broad shoulders... those tight abs... that magnificent ass...” Francine talked like she was in a daze.
“Hey, hey... Francine, I’m here,” I called out, snapping my fingers in front of her.
“Sorry,” she said, “but damn! He’s totally hot! Not that it means anything to you, of course. I mean... well... do pregnant women still get horny?”
It was an innocent question, and we’ve become quite close that she could actually ask that without sounding offensive.
“You’d be surprised,” I answered with a smirk.
But she was right. Even if the groundskeeper was as hot as Adam Levine, I wouldn’t care. I had other priorities. I had other interests. And my heart belonged to someone else.
And all I really cared about at that time was finding my phone to see if Nash has sent a text.
Francine led me to a small building just behind the Arts and Science Hall. She asked me to take the stairway on the right and I’ll immediately see a door. I only had to knock and the groundskeeper would open it if he was there. If he wasn’t, she told me to try again after six in the evening.
“Hope you brought extra panties,” she said with a knowing smile before leaving me.
So I entered the building and went down the stairs just as Francine has instructed. I knocked on the door I saw. No one answered. I knocked again, louder that time around, and I heard a grumpy voice from the other side.
“Just a minute,” he said. He was far from the door, I could tell, as his voice was faint. “I’m just finishing up with something.”
I didn’t have the luxury of time, so I knocked again.
“Okay, I’m done,” the voice said as I heard footsteps a
pproaching the entrance.
Then... something happened.
I heard a sound. From the other side. A tone. A very familiar and distinctive tone.
It was my ringtone!
I didn’t hear the footsteps anymore. The door wasn’t opened, as if the person inside was stopped dead on his tracks.
I started to knock intensely, pleading for the groundskeeper’s attention. My phone just beeped. There was a text message. For me. From him. I had to get it as soon as I could.
I just had to.
I heard he man’s footsteps once more, getting louder and louder with each step that he took.
Finally, the door was opened.
And I saw him.
Still with his head almost shaven clean. Still with his body that was seemingly sculpted by the Greek gods themselves. Still with his handsome profile that never failed to make my heart skip a beat.
He was shocked to see me at first... as shocked as I was, it seemed... but his lips quickly bended into a smile, and his dimple revealed itself.
“I just texted you,” he said.
“I’m just here to pick up my phone, Mr. Groundskeeper,” I replied.
“I got a job.”
“So it looks like.”
“Somewhere near you.”
“Half a kilometer away, but it would do.”
“Good.”
“Because?”
“Well... for starters, it would save me some money from constantly loading up my phone.”
“I see.”
He grabbed my waist and pulled me to him. I hugged him and wriggled my hips against his. He wrapped me around his strong arms and held me... longingly, tenderly, lovingly.
“You’ve got a lot to make up for,” I whispered.
“H’bout I start right now?”
He closed the door behind us and we spent the whole evening with each other... the first of many nights in the new life we would share together.
---THE END---
Afterword
I hope you enjoyed the story of Andrea and Nash.
Thank you so much for supporting an independent author. The direct publishing industry is at a critical period these days, as a change in the compensation structure of major distribution channels have severely impaired the financial viability of self-publishing. Your continued patronage has been a very big help, not just to me, but to my fellow independent authors as well.
Trust that we will always strive to give you the stories you want to read.
Again, my sincerest appreciation. Have a blessed day, and always be safe!
- Oracle Wilde
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