The Pacifist [COMPLETED]

New Beginnings

*Note* We're nearing the end of this story (there are two parts left to post). I'm relieved I can finally share Joseph and Rachel's happy ending, but also sad that I have to leave them. Unlike Mercy, this story was able to end the way I had hoped so it will be a standalone; however, like Mercy, I plan to edit, polish, and publish The Pacifist. What does that mean? You get waaaaaay more story, more character development, and more description. As mentioned in the Author's Note, this is literally draft zero and I have been posting as I write. First drafts for me are like primer on a wall and with each edit, you get a fresh layer of paint, providing a richer and more vibrant color (in this case, story). I appreciate my Wattpad readers and would love to do a giveaway for free download codes for the eBook once it's published. Follow the Linktree in my bio to subscribe to my newsletter for updates, exclusive content, and announcements. That way, you'll be the first to know exactly when The Pacifist will be released and the related giveaways. Thank you so much to those who have continued to follow and read my stories. 

Joseph

Joseph lurked on the street corner and watched as Rachel, with the beaming smile that seemed to have a regular appearance lately, opened the back of a moving truck. Her father helped her down from the footstep and she looked up at the building where her new condo awaited her. Her choice more than suited her. The building was an old factory that had been repurposed for residential lofts. All the artist types were racing to grab a unit as it featured shared amenities such as a massive studio with ample lighting, lounge with a full sound system, and rooftop patio that facilitated quiet parties where people liked to talk in cozy corners. The project had been an undertaking and the building became a first of its kind, highlighting the gap in city living with shared spaces.

He wondered if her father had used his monetary sway to help her get a unit. He knew Rachel enough that she would do everything she could to do things on her own, but he had a feeling she was motivated enough to accept her father's help if meant moving forward with her reclaimed independence.

The two of them began unloading the truck. Much of the furniture looked new and he was glad to see the bright yellow sofa and teal cushioned chair. The dining room table was small and made from reclaimed wood; a piece of art of its own. He wished he could be there to help and be part of this next step in her life. It had been a few months since he had spoken to the woman in front of the gallery, and he had every intention of reconciling with Rachel, but things were going so well for her, he worried his interference would throw off her equilibrium and sabotage her forward momentum. She deserved it all and he wanted her to have it before he threatened anything. If she was in the best place she could possibly be, then not even he could ruin it, was his reasoning.

His lurking had become somewhat worrisome, but... it was the lesser of two evils.