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BRADY WAS BROUGHT out of his thoughts by the sound of a cry.
A young woman, appeared at the doorway to the opposite compartment, flustered as she tried to comfort the baby, screaming his guts out. She was trying to get something out of the large grey bag whilst juggling the baby, and Brady knew he couldnt just sit idle, so he stood and walked to the door.
"Need some help?"
The woman looked up with large eyes and a grateful smile, "Please, if you don't mind, could you take him for a second, he normally has his milk after his nap, and now that it's not on time, he's in a sort of trance, to put it."
Brady laughs and cradles the baby in his arms, who stares at him for a quick second, only to begin another tantrum, "Aww, come on little guy." He cooes and gently rocks the baby back and forth , "Just a few more minutes till you can attack your bottle." The baby starts to slowly calm down only for the woman to let out a sigh of immense relief.
"Got it."
The baby starts to squirm in Bradys arm, his eyes focused on his target as he stretches his arms out attempting for a superman-style fly. Brady gets the bottle and once the arrow meets its target, all seems well again.
"Thank you so much — "
"Brady."
"Brady. I'm Lola. My husband is actually still in New York, this was supposed to be a family trip but oh well, what is the married life, if there isn't any tiffs?" She laughs but its devoid of any humor.
"Well, from personal experience. Regardless of the magnitude of the argument, if you love each other, running away doesnt help at all. And when you stop, and want to go back, you realise you're too late. Years too late." He mumbles off and swallows the lump in his throat. Damn trains.
"But sometimes the distance does you well, right place wrong time is still a possible scenario. Besides, if it's all perfect, then that means something is definitely wrong."
Boy, did she hit the nail on that one. It was too perfect and unfortunately life was no fairytale. The visage was bound to blur at some point.
"Can't argue with that." Brady looks down to find the child soundly asleep in his arms yet still clasped tightly onto his bottle. Oh, to be that nonchalant and free, not burdened with responsibility and suffering. The innocence of a child is just toppled with bittersweet nostalgia.
"Oh my god, you're still holding him. My apologies."
"Ahh it's no worries. He's lovely." Brady smiles and Lola shakes her head.
"When he's asleep that is. By the way, you seem to be really good with kids. Thomas barely allows anyone to go near him, nonetheless carry him." Lola laughs but Brady's stature goes rigid.
He looks down at Thomas and suddenly the image of a brown haired, green eyes baby comes to mind- which injects a fiery feeling down his throat.
"If you'll excuse me, I just have to use the restroom." He hands Thomas over to Lola who raises a questioning brow and walks out the cabin and down to the restrooms at the end of the corridor.
Once he arrives, he shuts the door behind him and takes a deep breath to calm his pounding heart. He opens the tap and splashes the cold water on his face in an attempt to extinguish the raging flames within, but he is unable to as the wounds are still inflamed, still intact and very much open.
A life with Elle.
If things hadn't gone so horribly wrong, they would have probably been married by now; be living in a lovely cottage-style home on the outskirts of New York; days would be spent at work, him training for games, she teaching ballet; nights would be making dinner together to sit outside and the nature around proving soothing music as the gazed up at the millions and billions of balls of light in the night sky, and after twilight- it would be dedicated to the comfort of each other, heated breaths, whispers of promise, of love , of forever.
God, it would have been perfect.
If only he had instead acted out using that small voice of reason inside instead of the screaming voice of impulse and frustration. But for how long, could he go on and replay the scenes in his mind, imagine a million different what if's? Was it all just inevitable as Lola had said? The perfection was just a distraction so the pain could seep through the cracks.
Brady looks into the mirror and takes deep breaths, "You can't change the past Brady, no matter how many times you re-imagine it. Focus on the now."
After the quick pep-talk and he feels his nerves start to calm, he unlocks the door and steps back into the corridor, only to not make it far when something- or someone collides into his chest. Brady holds the woman's arms to steady her before she went tumbling on the ground. The honey blonde hair paired with the all too familiar scent of sweet fills him with a wave of nostalgia as the woman slowly tilts her head up toward him.
"I'm so sorry, I — " Forest green eyes widen in shock and Brady feels all the air leave his lungs as manages to get only a single word out,
"Elle."
authors note
hehe, they meet again folks ;)
and now we can get to the juicy bits ;)
also in advance sorry for any grammar errors it's like 1am here lol.
i am truly sorry for leaving y'all for months- im awful. last year of high school stress paired with writers block is an awful pill to swallow. and if you've heard what's been happening the last week in South Africa with the unrest but yeah- an eventful year hey.
anyway, hope you're all well tho!! How have you guys been? What's new?
And thoughts on the chapter? Any theories before we delve into the past:)
