Novel Square
Destined to miss you.
(Jared's POV)
As I made my way through the airport, weaving through the crowds of travelers rushing to embrace their loved ones, something caught my eye. A woman, moving just ahead, her figure strikingly familiar. My heart faltered, as if time itself had paused. Arielle?
No, it couldn't be. My logical side kicked in, urging me to shake off the absurd thought. But something in the way she carried herself... it was too familiar. My gaze locked onto her, desperate for a clearer view, but just as quickly as I had noticed her, she turned her head, blending into the sea of strangers.
I strained to catch another glimpse, my pulse pounding in my ears. Her hair-shoulder-length, not the cascading blonde I remembered. And she had a child with her. A boy, clinging to her hand. My Arielle didn't have a son.
Still, my chest tightened, and I stood rooted to the spot for a moment, the rest of the world rushing past me. Could it really be her? My mind raced through the possibilities. But that was impossible, wasn't it? It had been years-years since I'd last seen her. And what were the odds? At an airport, of all places?
I forced myself to breathe, pushing the thought aside. People resemble others all the time. It was just a trick of the mind, dredging up memories I'd tried to bury.
Shaking my head, I moved forward, scanning the crowd again this time for my mother. I finally spotted her, waving from the arrivals area.
"Mum," I called out, moving to greet her. I embraced her, the hug mechanical, my mind still trapped in that moment. In her.
"Thank you for picking me up," she said, pulling back to look at me. Her voice brought me back to reality, if only a little.
"Of course," I replied, my voice steady, but the lingering tension in my chest wouldn't release. Even as we left the Tarmac and headed toward the car, I couldn't shake the feeling. That woman. Could it have been Arielle?
I wanted to let it go. I needed to. But the thought clung to me, like a shadow I couldn't escape.
************
After dropping my mother at home, I returned to work, but couldn't concentrate.
My thoughts kept straying to the woman I saw at the airport who had a somewhat uncanny resemblance with Arielle.
At the close of work, I headed home still feeling cranky and restless. On arrival, I decided to work from the guest room. It was a habit I'd developed lately, especially when Sofia and I had disagreements or when I needed some discretion and focus without distractions. After freshening up, I settled into the bed and booted my laptop to start working, but my thoughts began to wander again.
I needed answers so I dialed my Investigators number.
"Any news?" I inquired.
"Not yet, sir. We're still on it."
I clenched my jaw at the same old story.
"Keep looking," I ordered.
"Yes, sir," he said.
I ended the call, still feeling bothered and restless.
But a knock suddenly sounded on the door, breaking my concentration.
"Who's it?" I asked, even though I had an inkling about who it was.
"Sofia," she replied, her voice low.
I hesitated a moment, contemplating if letting her in was a great option. "What do you want?" I asked, finally.
"I need to talk to you."
I paused, weighing my options
again, before sighing and rising to my feet. I walked to the door and pulled it open, and behind it was Sofia, looking sober and a bottle of wine in hand. en
"What are you doing here?" I asked, watching her wearily.
"I came to apologize," she said, fiddling her gown with her free hand.
My brows rose, and I cast her a skeptical look. "For?"
"For my behavior lately," she responded, her face contorted in remorse. That was new because Sofia was never remorseful.
"I was out of line," she continued. "I'm truly sorry."
I studied her face, looking for any sign of insincerity because one can never be too sure with Sofia, but she seemed genuinely repentant "Okay, apology accepted," I said finally.
Her pursed lips broke out in a broad
smile. "Thank you, Jared.ne think you would forgive me this!
easily because I have not been of my next behavior."
And then she held out the bottle of wine. "I brought this as a peace offering."
"I'm working," I said, shaking my head. "I can't drink and focus."
A chuckle left her lips, and she held out the bottle so I could see its contents. "It's non-alcoholic. See?"
"Can I come in?" She asked. "We've been standing since I got here."
I nodded and made way for her to walk past me into the room. She unscrewed the cap of the wine and took a sip, then handed it to me. "Try it," she said.
I hesitated for a moment before accepting the bottle and examining the label properly. It was indeed a non-alcoholic wine.
The taste was surprisingly good, and I took a large swing, savoring the taste.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.
I returned to my position on the bed, laptop in front of me. "I'm afraid, I have to return to work," I said, sparing her a glance.
"Oh, no, it's fine," she replied, settling into the couch across from me. "I'm bored being all by myself in the bedroom. I'll just sit and watch you work."
"If you say so," I shrugged and returned my focus to the screen in front of me. Occasionally, I took a swing from the bottle, unable to get my fill of it.
In between, Sofia tried to engage me in conversation, asking about work and making small talk. I tried not to be rude but ensured my response was as Short and as polite as
possible.
It wasn't until I began to struggle to form coherent sentences that I realized something was off.
"So... Sofia," I called, my voice drawled, and my vision blurring.
"Shh, just relax," her voice sounded from afar.
I lost my grip on the laptop as I tried to keep my head upright, but it felt heavy. My eyelids dropped, fighting to stay open.
Through my blurred vision, I saw Sofia rising from the couch and walking towards me. She gently closed my laptop and put it aside.
"Time for bed, sweetie," she whispered, her hands reaching for my shirt.
I tried to push her away, but my hands felt limp and heavy like lead. "Sofia... stop."
My protests made no difference, and her hands continued to roam.