Looking into Christian’s eyes, Phoebe stopped, and in that brief moment, it seemed to the two that everyone else ceased to exist. Christian’s relaxed face was now a picture of guilt as he felt her presence in his house. “Phoebe,” he said her name again, his tone was low, but she could feel the shakiness in his voice. The blonde next to him fidgeted, stepping slightly away from him, her gaze jumping between them. This combination of sadness and anger made Phoebe’s breath come out in short sharp gasps and her heart raced. She wanted to scream, to yell, to tell him to stop and explain how he could have destroyed her only to be here now laughing with another woman. But instead she was just standing there with her arms folded waiting for him to explain what she had just seen. He tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come out right. He turned his head to the side, then back at her, as if he wished she would comprehend something, anything, but he had no idea where to begin. “Hi Phoebe, I
Then, they went round a corner and stumbled in front of an old shop that was a favorite of Phoebe. Its shelves were full of worn out novels and the odor of paper and ink was coming from the half opened door. There was something familiar about it, something that she could come back to without the sting of the memories. “Want to go in?” Emma questioned while pointing out Phoebe’s lingering looks. Phoebe nodded her head, she was feeling a certain kind of way she couldn’t quite describe as she looked at Ben. Inside the store, she ambled around the store, hands gliding over the books’ backs. She stopped at one that she recognized from the novel which she had read when she was still in her budding stage of relationship with Seth. The memories flooded back: old Sunday mornings, coffee, laughter and dreams that used to be so bright and promising. Staring into space, she almost didn’t hear the voice behind her when it spoke. “You look like you’re looking for something,” said a voice softly
Phoebe glanced at the man standing beside her. Still, the casual confidence in the way he stood was tempered by an understanding of the kind of contemplative silence she had grown to appreciate in the last couple of weeks. They both glanced at the painting once more, each was captivated by the same painting but for a purpose only they understood. “Is it not surprising how a single image contains so many narratives?” he asked after a while. Phoebe nodded, much to her surprise, she had never felt at ease with such a man before. I believe it is so because sometimes painting tells what words cannot. It embodies the sense of anticipation, of being at the precipice of a transition in life, but you know that you can’t just stay there. He smiled, looking at her, as if suddenly, he understood something. “Exactly. It means ‘the last second before the change occurs’.” And so they both fell into a kind of stunned quiet, both of them still staring at the painting. They both got it, that look i
“I would like to thank all the people who have been with me this way. To those who have stood by me and to those who walked away thank you. Every step that has been taken is the one that has brought me to where I am today and I am thankful for all of them.” The audience clapped, and Phoebe could not help but feel both happy and proud. When the show was over she mingled with people and said hello and hugged friends and other readers who have come to listen to her. Finally she was left alone standing by the door with her eyes fixed outside looking at the cool night. Christian came towards her, he was smiling but it was slight and unsure. “Phoebe,” he said softly. ‘I was going to tell you… you look happy.’ Really happy.” She nodded as her face was filled with quiet determination. “I am, Christian. I hope you are too.” He glanced down and had a subtle note of remorse painted on his face. “I am. And I’m sorry for all the things that happened. For not being what you wanted.” Phoebe the
The two walked on the pebbled shore and the sea was calm while the sun was setting in the background. They had only come out of his family’s cottage some time before that and were strolling hand in hand. The scene was so calm it felt like I was in a state of a dream. Oliver looked her way, a grin forming on his lips. “You look quite comfortable here,” he whispered. “It’s like you’re in the right place at the right time.” Gazing at the water, she frowned a little. “It’s strange,” she said, holding his hand. To my surprise, I have never thought that I could attain such kind of serenity. Not after everything. But now… it’s almost as if life brought me here on purpose.” Oliver chuckled. “I would like to think that I had a little something to do with it.” She laughed, and pushed him gently on his side. “Maybe just a little.” They stood and watched the waves. Oliver looked at her and became serious. “Phoebe… I know you’ve been through a lot. But… One day, you are forced to be strong an
“You know we are still young and are still exploring, but I just wanted to tell you… I’m here” She turned to the side, her emotions rising when she heard genuine concern in his voice. “Thank you,” she said in a very low voice, bringing forth her hand to wrap it around his. “I do not take this lightly either. I’m glad to have you, Oliver. Safe to just… be myself.” He smiled and enclosed her hand in his own. “Good. That’s all I want.” They sat there and stared at the sea and the sea returned the stars. They didn’t have to talk all the time to keep the space between them occupied. Now sitting by the fire, holding Oliver’s hand, Phoebe felt happy and sure that she is where she belongs. Some time later the couple settled into a comfortable silence, while listening to the sound of the water crashing against the shore and gazing at the stars above them. She rested her head on his shoulder and felt something she has not felt for a very long time- acceptance. Soon the night was black and
“I never really spoke to you about my family, did I?” he asked looking at me and his voice was soft. She glanced at him, feeling that there was much more than what he actually said. “No, but I’d love to hear about them.” Your stories are like parts of you that I am yet to come across. He grinned and nodded, but his face was still serious. ‘My father was a fisherman,’ he started. “Not the sort who ventured out into the vast deep-sea but the sort who remained right on the edge of the shore.” He loved this coast and he knew the rocks and the currents as if it was yesterday. He used to take me for a small fishing trip and I would sit on the boat for hours listening to him narrate stories of the ocean. Some of them were real, some… well, let’s just say that he was a great orator.” Phoebe listened, captivated. “I think you were friends.” Oliver just nodded, and for a moment there was a brief look of sorrow in his eyes. “We were, but… he passed when I was thirteen. A heart attack. It was
She shut her eyes tightly and let him speak about it and his words felt like a soothing ointment to her ears. But at the same time she remained afraid that her past would one day overtake all that she and Oliver had created. The next morning Phoebe made up her mind to go straight to her fears. She dialled her mum’s number, her heart racing while the phone rang. “Phoebe, finally,” Evelyn’s voice came through, her voice laden with suppressed anger. I have been trying to get hold of you for weeks now. Why are you ignoring us?” “Mom,” Phoebe said, getting ready for whatever was to come. “I’m not coming back. I need to live my own life.” Her mother sighed deeply, disapprovingly. “This is not the life you wanted for us Phoebe, this is not the life that we raised you to be in.” You are wasting all our efforts, all our achievements, our education, our chances. You’re being… irresponsible.” Phoebe held the phone firmly, she was trembling as she spoke. There is nothing wrong with that; per