OUR OBSESSIONS - FATE of LOVE

Chapter 4

When the apple of the eye wants to run away from home for independence...

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ESHA

As the weeks slipped away like grains of sand through my fingers, the long-anticipated night finally arrived night heavy with the weight of unspoken dreams and unyielding fears, the kind of night that felt electric with possibility. I stood in my dimly lit room, the shadows dancing around me as I meticulously packed my suitcase, each item a bittersweet reminder of the life I was leaving behind. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I placed my favourite sweater atop the pile, its fabric still holding the warmth of countless memories.

With trembling hands, I affixed a note to my mirror, a silent plea to the world: "Please, don't search for me. I want to embark on a new journey, a fresh beginning." Alongside it, I poured my heart into a letter, detailing the reasons for my departure, each word a cathartic release, a final farewell to the weight that had anchored me for far too long.

When the hour struck, I descended the stairs, my heart racing like a wild stallion, pounding against my chest as I stepped into the cool embrace of the night. The air was crisp and alive, filled with the scent of dew-kissed grass and the distant hum of the city. I summoned a cab at the end of the street, yearning for a sanctuary that would cradle my restless spirit if only for a while, a place where I could reinvent myself away from the prying eyes of my past.

But just as I crossed the threshold of my gate, a hand clamped around my wrist, yanking me back into the reality I so desperately sought to escape. The voice that followed was deep, husky, and achingly familiar, sending a jolt of recognition through my veins. "Where are you eloping to?" he asked, his tone laced with a blend of disbelief and concern. A gasp escaped my lips, a chaotic mix of shock and confusion swirling within me, my heart pounding like a war drum.

Desperately, I tried to wrench myself from his grip, the warmth of his touch igniting a tempest of emotions deep inside me. "I'm not eloping," I protested, my voice trembling, barely a whisper against the night's stillness.

"Then where are you going in the middle of the night?" His tone dripped with an undercurrent of danger, a warning that sent shivers racing down my spine, igniting a primal instinct to flee.

"It's none of your business. Why are you here now, of all times?" I whispered, my voice a fragile thread, woven tightly with fear and defiance.

"Don't divert; just answer me!" he shot back, his voice rising like a tempest, the intensity of his gaze piercing through my resolve.

"Keep your voice down!" I snapped, frustration mingling with a flicker of fear that danced in my chest, threatening to consume me.

"Now, tell me where you're going," he demanded, his tone softening, almost pleading as if he sensed the turmoil swirling within me, the chaos that had driven me to this moment.

"Why are you suddenly here? Didn't you move back to your condo? How is it that you stand before me now?" I countered, my heart racing as I challenged him, the tension crackling between us like a live wire.

"It's none of your business. Now answer my question-where are you going?" I sensed his patience fraying, a storm brewing behind his eyes, and my heart ached with the weight of unspoken words.

"Why should I tell you? If your life is none of my concern, then why is mine any of yours? Who are you to me? Why do you care where I go and when I go?" With those words, I felt his grip on my wrist loosen, and in that fleeting moment of freedom, I seized the opportunity.