Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 26760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
The memory resurfaced, slicing through the haze of recent events.
We were in the park, Nixon Gardens to be exact, under the very tree where we became something more than friends. Ezra had sat across from me, looking somewhat disheveled, a stark contrast to his usual put-together self.
“Ezra,” I began, my voice soft, “I've been thinking...maybe we'd be better off just as friends.”
He looked up, his eyes blue eyes searching mine, trying to decipher if I was joking.
When he realized I was sincere, a mix of confusion and hurt clouded his expression. “Kore, are you serious?”
I nodded. “I think maybe what we have is more about friendship and less about…all the other stuff.”
He scoffed, trying to keep his emotions in check. “So, you want to downgrade our relationship? Just throw away everything we've been through?”
I didn’t understand what he meant by that. Our relationship was smooth sailing, easy and tame. We hadn’t been through anything particularly life altering. “This isn’t throwing anything away. It's about recognizing where we truly stand,” I tried to reason.
His voice had cracked, and he’d shifted closer. “You want to be with someone else, don't you?”
I remember withholding a sigh, somewhat offended that this was the first conclusion he’d come to. “There is no one else, Ezra. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
His eyes brimmed with tears, taking me off guard. Ezra was strong-willed and seldom displayed vulnerability. “Kore, I can't... I can't just go back to being friends. Not after everything.”
There it was again, his alluding that we’d gone through some dire trials and tribulations together. I didn’t know where that was coming from. We weren’t each other’s firsts, no matter how many times he liked to think or pretend we were. That claim belonged to a former Redpeak Raptor we’d gone to the academy with.
His toned physique evident even beneath the team jersey was the first thing I'd noticed, followed by a mischievous glint in his eyes. He was relentless, his flirtations persistent and undeterred. There’d never been any real emotional connection between us. No shared dreams or whispered secrets. It was his charm and sheer persistence that wore me down. He became my first, and later, for some inexplicable reason, second and third.
Last I'd heard, he had moved to live with his father in Elysium, the esteemed sector 1. I hoped he was doing well. As for me and Ezra, I was beginning to see we viewed our relationship very differently.
“Ezra...” I’d hesitated, searching for the right words, “I'm sorry. I never intended to hurt you.”
He swiped away a tear that threatened to fall. “Can you think about this a little longer? I can't imagine my life without you. And not just as a friend.”
At that moment, my resolve wavered. The emotional turmoil in front of me, coupled with my intrinsic urge to avoid conflict, pushed me into a corner. After sleeping together again, he’d fallen under the impression everything was okay.
“I don’t know what to do,” I sighed, my thoughts returning to the present.
“You do whatever is going to make you happy. Don’t stay with him if he doesn’t,” Ophelia replied, linking her arm through mine.
“Look at you being the voice of reason.”
“I have my moments of wisdom.”
We continued walking, heading back to where I’d parked. Amalthea padded alongside us silently, ears alert and her vigilant eyes scanning our surroundings. At the plaza's heart, the fountain's water cascaded in orchestrated patterns. The inviting aroma of freshly cooked delicacies wafted around us, FusionFire’s one of the most prominent.
It was a tantalizing blend of the familiar and the exotic. They boasted dishes from different parts of the world, but with a twist, merging flavors that traditionally wouldn't go together. The skewers emitted smoky fragrances and were drizzled with a luminescent sauce that sparkled. Pastas were upgraded with edible metallic glitters, and drinks bubbled and smoked with the addition of dry ice and flavored vapors. I could have gone for one of their combos myself, but if we didn’t get this sauce home soon so Mom could cook, there would be no dinner later.
I half listened to my sister tell me about some new store opening at AstraMall, mentally going over the list of things I still needed to do before my afternoon shift tomorrow. My thoughts were interrupted when Amalthea growled softly, her gaze fixed intently on a figure approaching us.
“Tykho,” I commanded quietly, stroking the top of her fluffy white head.
Ophelia shifted closer to me as an Emissary, dressed in a tailored black suit with a golden dragon pin—the Maelstrom family emblem—on his lapel, stepped into our path, blocking our advance with an air of authority.
“If you ladies would kindly follow me," he requested, his tone courteous but firm.
Ophelia, ever the protective one, replied before I could. “Is there some sort of problem, Sir?”
His gaze, sharp yet unreadable, assessed us for a moment. “Mr. Maelstrom would like a word.”