Each time he says, “Nothing.” But the last time, he adds, “It’s just… you’re really beautiful.” I blush deep, dark pink, which makes his blue eyes dance over a wicked smile. I’m surprised he doesn’t ask me about Jack, but I don’t bring it up. I’m just overjoyed to be here, feeling that my life might be worth living after all, like I’m a bird whose cage has disappeared.
I fall asleep in his arms. He goes into the dream place before me and I listen to his breathing until I’m taken away, too.
When the sunlight wakes me a bit after dawn, I stretch to snuggle with him, but find only cold sheets beside me, and a flattened pillow. I sit up, confused and look around me. The suitcase that was lying to the left of the bed is gone. The jacket over the chair, also absent. “Brendan?” I call and feel a deep foreboding snake into my heart. “Brendan?” Throwing the covers off, I touch my feet to the cool wood floor, and wince. Naked, I step out into the living room and see no signs. The bathroom door is wide open, bragging of vanished toiletries –toothbrush, razor – all gone. My stomach twists hard as it dawns on me that I’ve been abandoned. I run to peek through a slice between curtains. I don’t even know what he was driving.
For an hour I wait, hoping he’s just gone into town to get coffee. But I know the truth. I just don’t want to accept it.
He’s gone.
I have no idea what his last name is. I have no idea how to get ahold of him. I don’t know where he’s from.
He’s gone.
And I will never see him again.
17
Brendan
Driving my Mustang back down the PCH. Heart: closed. Mind: locked. Life: changed forever.
______________________
The waves to my right crash, turning everything inside out… only this time it signifies the changing tides of life - not the lashing pain of uncertainty and powerlessness I felt when I’d arrived. The charm of Mendocino calmed my mind. The Good Witch who checked me into the place and gave me the key to freedom, was right – it’s a magical place.
Meeting Rebecca pretty much soothed Sara right out of me. And then seeing Rebecca for what she was – a married woman who flirted and toyed with me like my feelings didn’t matter – woke me right out of victimhood.
When her husband came back and she didn’t leave to talk to him – I lost respect for her. I wanted to say, “Didn’t you guys give each other vows? Can’t you at least go talk to him?” and almost did tell her, a few times. But each time she asked me what I was thinking, I stopped myself. If she doesn’t know, I’m not going to tell her. I get to watch and learn who she is, without trying to teach her who she should be, which is the kind of woman who helps her husband through a hard time. It was easier to tell her she was beautiful and watch her get happy… and drop it.
It’s all in the past now. I took what I wanted. She got what she wanted. Win/win.
When I get back, I’m going to call up my buddy Mark and we are going to hit the town. Watch out San Francisco. Oh man. I can’t wait.
I came up here wanting rest and I got it. I got the peace of mind to tell me what the rest of my life will be like. It will be mine.
I will take what I want and do who I like. And that will be everybody.
Women have twisted my heart for the last time.
Never again.
The End of The Prelude
BY SABRINA LACEY
I Love My…
The Completed Series of Three Loyal & Amazing Best Friends
I LOVE MY HEALED HEART (box set - JESSICA)
I LOVE MY SIDE OF THE STORY (AMBER)
I LOVE MY FIRE (box set - NICOLE)
Series Box Set: “I Love My…Trilogy”
Hearts Series
Searching Hearts – the prelude
Throbbing Hearts -Part 1
Reaching Hearts - Part 2
Crushing Hearts – Part 3
Tempting Hearts – Part 4
Tangling Hearts – Part 5
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Xx, S.L.
_________________________
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sabrina Lacey used to shoot photography and fashion. She was like Diego, the photographer in I Love My Healed Heart who worked the tents at Fashion Week. It gave Sabrina all the insight she needed to create a fantastical tale about the glamorous lives those people don’t really live. ;) She grew up near San Francisco, went to A.C.T. there – and so writing about Brendan and Annie’s tale has been a fun touch-base with the old haunts. Now she lives in Los Angeles, CA. where she writes and wishes there were more thunderstorms. Who doesn’t LOVE a great thunderstorm with a sexy man, a glass of red wine, and a crackling fireplace?
Searching Hearts Page 4