The One...

Prologue

LENORA (2013)
Rosebury Mansion, Manchester

The sudden loud noise and the charcoal smell alerted me of something burning.

I dragged myself up to my feet and headed towards the toaster. Picking the toasted bread out and plopping it on the ceramic plate– it made a loud crisp sound. The window let in a chill sweep of air inside.

Eyes still closed, I rested my elbows on the counter, groggily I moved my hand around sleepily to find butter, my stomach churned inside, as I tried to secure the butter I felt the cold metals of some cutlery, some soft textures of the napkins. My hand hit a cold glass bottle, I caught it before it fell down. Questioning myself of its presence I absentmindedly picked it up and brought it to my nose, its strong freshly baked smell sprung up my nose eliminating the previous burned toast. I shrugged before taking a quick gulp from it and placing it back down on the kitchen counter.

My eyes widened as the sleep fizzed out of me. And then it hit — like a brick in the head— a truck on the highway— like a sad Taylor Swift song.

My husband left me last night !

I grabbed the bottle again along with the plate and sat down in my kitchen. I stared at my reflection on the fridge. I was a total mess. Still in the party dress, mascara smeared all over my face. I bit on the burnt toast aggressively before bursting out again.

He was gone and I was all alone. Once again. Once again I was left alone when I needed someone the most. I emptied the champagne bottle. Then I got up from the floor and headed towards the wine cellar. I pulled out as many bottles as I could. I got them to the kitchen and started pouring them in the sink.

"Nora— are you back home?" A faint voice from the back startled me. He wasn't here. He left. I warned myself but what if he was here and wanted to talk. I turned back to see him and it all turned foggy, the room was darker,

and colder,

and quieter,

and lonelier.

It was strange, like a ghost town meets alternate reality kinda strange.

It was quiet for a while before that voice spoke again.

"Nora— are you back home?" It was his voice. It was what he asked me, when I was in the kitchen gulping down the champagne bottle like there was no tomorrow, but here I was in the tomorrow without him.

I waited for me to answer.

Why was I quiet? Why wasn't I speaking? It's my line— where am I? I looked around, I wasn't there. Just me.

Then he spoke again— the third time.

Maybe I had to speak my lines. Play my part. Live through it again. Hurt again.

'Sí, In the kitchen, carino,' I stepped in my place and yelled. I kept the bottle on the counter and stepped out, almost stumbling into his arms. He caught me before I could fall. I looked up to see his face, his beautiful- beautiful face. His brunette fringe fell above his dark eyes almost covering them, but not quite like his loose frames did though. They fell loosely over his nose, he scrunched trying to pull them up but failed.

'You need to get them fixed, amor.' I chuckled, fixing them for him. I grabbed his face, squishing it between my palms. He dipped his head down, his hand anchoring my head. His soft lips brushed over mine, just like a gentle breeze, it felt very real. His fingers dug into my waist, like he was trying to lock me down to the ground, and then he pulled back from the kiss.