Crossroads

Nicholas sat still, his eyes were plagued with sadness, and a rueful smile touched his thin lips when he took hold of her delicate hand. His thumb gently brushed the surface of her smooth, soft skin before he gave her fingers a light kiss.

Izabel blinked back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks, and looked away.

The sky outside the tall, glass windows of LAX was a blanket of midnight blue, with a cluster of diamond stars, and occasional airplane in sight.

It was four o’clock in the morning, and her heart was ripping apart at the seams.

Izabel scheduled an early flight to escape the memories that perfumed her life in California, and desperately yearned to begin anew on a foreign land, across the Atlantic Ocean. There, she built a grand, Baroque-inspired mansion and there, awaiting her safe return, was her fiancé, Evan.

He was a handsome man, with eyes that matched the color of the turquoise waters around the Caribbean islands, a headful of dark, disheveled curls and strong, cleft chin. He was every inch of a man any woman could have wanted for a husband: astute, sophisticated and charming, but he couldn’t ignite the flame in the pit of her stomach the way Nicholas had.

The man across from her was destined to run free, like a wild horse, never to be domesticated, and Izabel learned that lesson the hard way. His heart was buried deep within his broad chest, in a vault that guarded it from love, affection and possibly, heartache.

He was never destined to be a husband, or a father.

“I never meant to hurt you, and I’m sorry if I did.”

She nodded her head slowly, gazing absentmindedly out of the windows, and growing immune to the excruciating pain that threatened to tear her limbs apart. Her soul was massacred as a result from his careless lies and calloused actions, and at times, she wondered if she was still alive.

It took all of the courage in her heart to forgive his dirty deeds and sail out of his greedy reach.

She rose to her feet, with a nonchalant smile on her red lips, and cast one last glance at his mournful face. He looked small and helpless, almost childlike, but Izabel knew that it was just a façade.

Nicholas was a psychotic mélange of selfishness, jealousy, rage and rancor. But, he only let the monster loose after the victim was tangled up in his golden web of lies.

Izabel freed her hand out of his iron grip and said, “Goodbye, Nicholas. May we never cross paths.”

 

 

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Crossroads

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