Not In My Wildest Dreams (Dream Series) by Peterson Isabelle

Author:Peterson, Isabelle [Peterson, Isabelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Erotica
Publisher: Isabelle Peterson
Published: 2014-02-26T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

April 23, 2013

Three weeks later

I listened to her graceful steps softly descend the staircase. I heard her reach the foyer, her delicate heels, softly tapping on the marble. I strained my ear. The door wasn’t opening.

Go to her! I shouted in my head. But I couldn’t walk. I slowly dropped to my knees. I was defeated. I poured my heart out to her, and she still left. I showed her who I was. I begged and pleaded. I didn’t even remember all of what I’d said, only that every word was true. I looked at the clock on my bedside. It was only four thirty-four. I’d planned on cooking dinner for her, but then she showed up early, too early. I hadn’t even gone grocery shopping. She upended everything. She said that she was going back to Napa. I begged. I wasn’t proud of it, but for Beth I’d do whatever it took. I pointed out why she should be with me, but my stubborn, strong girl had made up her mind.

I heard a couple steps in the foyer over the pounding in my head. I looked to the bedroom door. Was she walking back? Please let her be walking back. I can’t move without her. I can’t function. I looked at the clock again. Four thirty-eight. She’s still here. She hasn’t left. Why?

I started to get angry. Why wasn’t she walking back? Does she want me to chase her? I’d just been chasing for the past weeks, and with more gusto this past hour. Kissing her. Telling her how much I treasured her and that I saw us together until the end of time, or something like that. But she walked out, and now she won’t leave. Is this some sort of game? I was honest and not one word was a line.

She cried. My words meant something to her.

Four forty-one the clock displayed.

I had begged her not to go. I kissed her. She pushed me away. I told her that we were always going to be together. I told her I would wait. I’m waiting. She hasn’t left yet. She’s coming back! That’s why the door hasn’t—

The distinct clicking of the brass knob of the front door screamed from downstairs. I heard the roar of traffic on Third Avenue. “NO!” I cried out. Did she hear me? I tried to stand. Tried to get my legs to function. And then the door closed. The place was silent again. Had she walked through the door or was she still standing there? I saw it clearly in my mind. She’s leaning on the door, eyes looking up the stairwell to find me.

I leapt to my feet and raced to the hallway and the balcony that overlooked the foyer. What I saw didn’t compute. It was just the door. The floor. The artwork. Beth was nowhere. I stood there staring. It felt like only seconds or minutes passed until I could get my brain and legs to function. I ran down the stairs and flung open the door.

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