Unchasable

Chapter 2

YVONNE

Seven months and five days.

That's how long I've been away from this place.

But my bestie Livie got pregnant and Fendi is hosting an event at a museum in Cordelia, so I had to return.

These past few months worked wonders on me. I might have run away from the future that was planned for me, but I found the future I always wanted. After arriving in Copenhagen, I decided to travel. At first it was from fear anyone could find me, but then it became mostly because I've always wanted to do it. Then, the rest was pure luck. I started posting on my account again, about my travels and my outfits. I went to Milan to attend the Fashion Week, just because I have always loved fashion and I have always wanted to visit Milan. There, one of the fashion houses was missing a model, so they randomly chose me. And the rest is history. Fashion houses started to send me gifts to present on my account, I started getting invited to model or attend more fashion shows. Having always enjoyed fashion, it was easy to adapt into this lifestyle. I might not be a huge name on the internet yet, but I'm baby-stepping my way in.

Curiously, my parents never reached out for me. Neither did Theodore. And I can't say I've been staying quiet. My social presence has been bigger than ever this year, however, no word from them.

I don't know if to be thankful or worried.

A nostalgical feeling fills me in as I walk through the corridors of Cordelia International Airport. Images of me in a wedding dress as I panicked wait for a flight to save me from a life I didn't want and still would hate flash through my head.

My phone vibrates in my pocket with a message from my Mom. I announced them yesterday I'll be coming home today, and she flipped. After seven months of no contact, I suddenly write: "Hey, I'll be back in Cordelia tomorrow." Not the perfect parents-daughter bonding experience.

I press play on her voice message, her voice speaking through my headphones. "Sweetie, I hoped you arrived well. Your Dad and I are so happy you're coming home. We already prepared a nice lunch for you, so no need to eat out. I can't wait to see you again. Love, Mom."

I sigh exhausted. Maybe I overreacted. Maybe I shouldn't have run away. Maybe I should have stayed here and be the girl they want me to be.

I head to the Starbucks in the airport and buy myself my favourite drink. When life gets though, you get matcha lattes.

Sipping from my drink, I walk outside and step inside the first taxi I see.

~

The big gates and the building I used to come home send a chill down my spine. It's so weird how for years, coming back here made you feel excited, now you're fearing it.

I thank the taxi driver and pay for the ride, then I step outside and take out my bag. I haven't got a "real" home, since I travelled all these months, not spending more than a few weeks in the same place. I'm heading to Vienna for a few weeks after this, then, it's still TBD. My entire belongings fit in a suitcase, which is both scary and exciting as shit. I don't need many clothes, since I usually get ones to wear through the ads and presents. I only have some with me, some pieces I either adored or really needed.

I take out the keys to the house from my purse and walk inside with the confidence of a bunny which knows that there is a big ass animal ready to hunt behind.

I take it all in at once. The familiar white walls, the couch I spent some good Netflix marathons on, the staircase leading to the upper level with my room.

"Hello", I shout, not hearing any voices. I leave my bag in the hallway as I get no answer and walk inside, trying to figure out where they are. I hear some laughter from the winter terrace and some plates clinging. Taking a huge deep breath and checking in a mirror once if the combination of a black tube top and some jeans still seats alright, a grey hoodie around my neck and black sunglasses on the top of my head, I walk through the door and onto the terrace.

Only to freeze.

I know I hear Mom's gasp, I know I hear Dad's greeting... But what I really focus on is Theodore's eyes staring into mine. The way his mouth is twitched. The way he seems to know something I don't.

The way he crashed into my life just like I ran out of his.

Unexpected. Sudden.

Too fucking soon.

First instinct: Run.

But my dignity meanwhile grew an ego, so if he expects me to run out of my own damn house, then he must be dreaming.

"Yvonne", Theodore greets me.

I only nod, doing my best to seem unbothered and take a sit on the chair that was left free for me.

I pour myself a bit of wine from the opened bottle and Mom heads to the kitchen to bring a pan filled with pasta.

"I cooked your favourite", she whispers in my ear, giving a kiss on the top of my head.

I smile at her, kissing her cheek back. I've always loved my Mom. Many say I'm a carbon copy of her in miniature. We both have the same features, black hair with dark eyes. Mom comes from Seoul, met Father at a gala once, while she worked as a model. She's the one I got the passion for fashion from, and the one who taught me about style. When I was young, she used to take me with her at her shooting and sometimes we'd go out at shops, and she'd let me match clothes, then giving me tips and advice.

She takes a sit back on her chair, and we start eating. I'm interrupted from what must be the best meal in my life, by Theodore saying: "Where have you been?"

Fuck him for ruining my pasta moment.

"Everywhere", I reply cold. Dad raises an eyebrow, so I elaborate: "Copenhagen, Italy, India, France and Germany." And many more to come, I think.

"Good", he lets out. Then: "I missed you."

It's a lie. We both know it. He only wanted to marry me for the money and my last name. Nothing more.

After a bit of silence, he speaks again: "It's good you got some time to travel, for I don't know how often we'll be able to do it in the next few months."

"What do you mean?", I ask, almost coughing on my food.

Something like victory appears in his eyes. "Well, with the wedding preparations, I doubt you'll find the time. And I have a lot of work starting January, so we'll be mostly at home."

"What do you mean?", I shout, not minding the fact I almost sound like the Jennifer Lawrence meme.

"We're getting married", he says firm.

I gasp. And start shaking my head. I search for help in my Father's eyes or my Mother's ones. And while my Mom's show worries, Dad's only show confirmation.

"We're getting married", Theodore repeats. He knows it. He won.

And I'm back at ground zero.