She Will Be Loved - Chapter Three

Christopher and Priscilla were high school students simply in love, no more and no less. However, the two were separated from a reason unknown to everybody. Now, back from United Kingdom where he resided for seven years, doctor Christopher Thomas had come to visit Denver for the first time since that fateful day. Will he be ready to face the truth behind the white lies that separated him from the woman he kept trying to forget all these years?
Chapter Three - The Reunion


He started moving towards the red-headed figure, too amazed to make any sudden movements. He didn't know what else to do; better yet he doesn't know how to react. As he started moving forward, the woman in black stared in disbelief; she recalled the moments when her victims tried their best to run away from her. This man, however, was not running away, but instead moving towards her.

The woman merely stared - she was either too appalled at his bravery or too stunned at his stupidity. By the time she snapped out of her thoughts, he was now standing five feet away from her.

This time, she could see him clearly.

The man asked again, his husky voice quivering. The man standing in front of her was what she usually considered a "pretty man," someone with God - Given features that lots of people would kill for. He could be at least six feet, as he easily towered over her 5'6 body. He had a strong built - his muscles apparent under his black shirt. His face was of an angel; clear chiseled jaws, short midnight - colored hair that women would love to dig their fingers through, those pale ruby lips and those green eyes that seemed to be able to look through the person in front of it.

Right now that same pair of eyes are looking straight at her. She shuddered.

As she looked down to avoid his watchful glare, she realized that she was still holding her firearm, and it snapped her back to reality. Just mere seconds ago she had shot her target, and she had completely forgotten the man standing in front of her was a witness. When she started this particular kind of lifestyle, she established herself three rules that saved her life for the past years;

One - You must never have sympathy for your target.

Two - Never harbor feelings for anyone.

Three - Witnesses must be terminated.

And with that, she raised her hand and held her gun towards the man.

The man just stood there. He didn't move an inch. Unlike her former targets, this man wasn't begging for his life, he wasn't even bribing her. He merely stood there.

This made her feel uneasy.

"Why am I resisting?" She thought to herself. She can feel it - a sort of resistance, coming from inside her. It wasn't like her to resist. She knew she had to terminate the handsome witness in front of her if she wants to completely finish the job.

But she couldn't.

"Shoot me." He ordered.

This time, his voice wasn't quivering. The red-headed woman stared at him once again in disbelief because for some reason, this man couldn't cease to amaze her.

"He's interesting," she thought, and lowered her gun. The man with the captivating green eyes tilted his head in confusion.

"You're not shooting me then?" He asked.

"No." She replied, and she moved forward, so her face was only inches away from him.

"Not today," she whispered in his ears, and then she moved back and started walking away.

"Wait!" He yelled, and she stopped dead in her tracks, but she didn't look back. She wanted to hear what he had to say.

"Are you Priscilla?" He asked for the fourth time. His voice this time wasn't quivering, or commanding. This time his voice sounded lonely; sad; pitiful. Something inside her twisted in knots.

She looked back at him, and presented him with the coldest glare.


She quickly turned around and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Christopher completely lost and utterly speechless.


"Two coffees please! One without sugar and the other with whip cream on top."

The girl with the bleached blonde hair said as she returned the menu.

"No problem, coming right up." The waitress responded, and then quietly excused herself. As she walked towards the coffee machine, she turned back to watch the couple she had just served seconds ago. The girl with the bleached blonde hair seemed so happy with the guy she was with, as her smile was genuine while talking to him. The guy, however, was not so genuine, as the waitress could see him constantly look down to check his phone or check out the girl sitting behind his girlfriend while she was happily talking about her trip to Florida.

"Bastard," the waitress thought to herself, when a pair of small fingers snapped in front of her face.

"Aris, daydreaming again?" A petite girl with long brown curly hair chuckled, her right hand on her hip. Aris looked down to find her co-worker and best friend looking impatiently at her.

"Of course not," Aris answered, and she turned around to pour espresso in the coffee mugs.

"Bull." Zena replied back, a huge smirk on her face. "It was so obvious you were looking at those two over there," she pointed at the two. "The Princess and the wolf." Zena sighed, and Aris laughed in response. The guy had been their regular customer for the past three months since they both started working at their local cafe, "Deja Vu." They've seen the guy they referred as "the wolf" bring in different girls every time he comes in.

"Poor girl. It's the third day already. He'll break her heart today," Aris said in pity, looking at the sixth girl he's brought in this month alone. Zena looked at the couple in question. "You're right. He always breaks up with them on the third day."

Suddenly, as if he overheard, "the wolf" suddenly turned around to look in their direction. Without giving a glance at the girl talking merrily in front of him, he winked at them.

Zena smiled back, while Aris slapped Zena's shoulders in disgust.

"Hey!" Zena protested, "I can't help it, you know. I know he's a womanizing jerk, but he is definitely one hot womanizing jerk. No complains there, eh?"

Aris gagged.
The two laughed in unison. Then, before Zena could take the coffees to the customers, she looked at Aris.

"By the way, redhead. Where were you yesterday? I was calling your phone, but you didn't answer. The other day too!" Zena grumbled. Aris patted her head.

"I went to visit my grandfather. He was sick." She replied as she was putting her long hair on a bun.

"Again? Wow. He's been sick a lot this time around. Hopefully, he feels better." Zena pinched Aris' cheeks and walked away leaving Aris in silence.


It was 11 pm and the dark skies of Denver hinted of upcoming rain as the sound of thunderstorms steadily increased.

Christopher drove slowly as he tried to match the neighborhood's minimum speed; his eyes wandering left and right as he tried to find the establishment residing on the address that his mother had given him on a tiny piece of paper.

"This is where your cousin works, Chris. Go fetch her before the rain starts pouring hard." She ordered.

Damn it, he thought. The neighborhood wasn't big to begin with, but seven years was enough to make him forget where things were. Besides, yesterday's events were too much on him already. He was frozen for several hours as he tried to remember the woman who closely resembled Priscilla. Her red hair, her porcelain skin, and her big brown eyes. He missed her.

But that woman cannot be her.

Priscilla was already dead.

He could still remember when his father called him a month after he had arrived in United Kingdom that she had passed away. That time, he was still confused as to why she had broken up with him with such unclear reasons. His father told him that Priscilla had a car accident and was dead on spot. He could still remember not eating unless forced to, and how emotionless he had been that awful year. But somehow he pushed all those feelings into work, into finishing University, and into being a man worthy to become someone. Still, a flicker of hope was still inside him. No matter how much he wanted the flicker ignited, it just keeps on getting bigger. After yesterday's events, that flicker had become a forest fire.

A forest fire of hope.

He blinked, trying to bring himself back to reality.

He was about to give up searching when he saw a small building with colorful Christmas light attracting everyone who sees it.

"There it is," he thought.
He found a slot where he placed his car and walked inside.

"Welcome to Deja Vu Cafe!" Two girls wearing Santa hats welcomed him in the front. He noticed them blush, but shrugged it off and instead went straight to the point.

"Do you know where I can find my cousin, Zena Thomas? She works here."

One of the girls nodded and pointed to the kitchen. "Can you tell her that her cousin is here? I'll be sitting around." He thanked the girl who seemed more than happy to do the favor and found himself a seat on the corner of the cafe.

"May I take your order?"
He turned around expecting his cousin when he saw the girl behind him looking at him with wide eyes. His eyes widened too.

It's her - the girl from yesterday.
"Uh..." She groaned quietly, and as she turned around to run away, he simply held her wrist, yanked her down, and kissed her.


That ends chapter three of this story. Comment below to tell me what you think! It would be greatly appreciated.
How is the story so far?
I love the suspense.
I don't care. I just want them together again.
Please go on.
Published: 8/7/2012
Bouquets and Brickbats | What Others Said