Eleanor's Demise ✔️

Chapter 2: Shadows of The Past

She stood there. On the corner of the street where she had supposedly taken her life and felt the warm breeze blow through her soft faded brown hair. Eleanor nervously tugged at the hem of her sweatshirt. The street was too close to Adam's home and that in itself made her too afraid to walk near it.

This was the street where she had run out at a truck driver as he freaked out and crashed, later receiving millions of dollars in a lawsuit.

After spending a day driving around, she'd told Josiah that she needed to go for a walk.

She had done so every night, a habit developed since arriving in Oklahoma and he knew that was her alone time. He'd learned that when he had found her crying for no reason outside the local elementary school because she was mad that he followed her when she wanted to think. Pathetic really, the way she had to force herself to tears to get what she wanted- guess that's helpful when you're a woman.

He had asked if she would be okay all alone in an unfamiliar city, but she told him she could handle herself. In truth, Eleanor knew the ins and outs of this place, especially so close to her old home. But on the other hand, he had no idea how unfamiliar this city had become.

Her feet ached as she stood at edge of the road, her heart was racing wildly. She walked as far as she was willing to go without getting hit. It was cold out, and light snow had begun to form. She had worn Josiah's oversized black hoodie to provide warmth and with it covered herself from detecting eyes.

"You're gonna catch a cold out here." A voice startled her as she quickly turned around, meeting familiar eyes and looking away immediately. She hadn't expected him to be here. Adam Carnegie rarely went anywhere without someone- yet here he stood, alone. Her heart beat rapidly as the prospect of being found struck her cold. She wanted to see him, but now that she had, she feared for her selfish self and getting caught.

"Right back at you, why are you out here, Adam- Mr. Carnegie?" She asked cooly, trying her best to copy Josiah's southern accent. She'd caught her words, butterflies bouncing around her belly as she attempted to stare away. She knew what he looked like, had every nook and cranny memorized. But why was it so hard to not look directly at him. Adam would easily recognize her voice if she didn't cover it with a bad accent. At least this way, she could disguise herself a bit.

He looked at her once then walked up beside her, making no effort to look at Eleanor. Her heart raced rapidly, he was too close, she could feel the heat radiating off his body and did everything in her ability to not move closer and wrap his arm around herself.

"My wife died here almost a year ago." She didn't dare to look at him, "I've come here every night since, I don't know why... my coming here isn't going to bring her back. I guess I feel closest to her here." He had no idea how accurate he was. He choked, coughing to cover up for the fact that his voice had cracked. "I just wish she wouldn't have done it. We could have sorted everything out if she had waited, it would've all blown over, she was so young. So beautiful, so perfect and I treated her like she was always going to be around. I thought she was- I took our marriage for granted. And I regret it every day. You know... the last thing she told me was to sign the annulment so I burned those papers and. . ." He shook as the snow began to fall faster in the dead of night and he grew silent. Probably wondering why he was telling a stranger his deepest secrets. Not so secret now that the world knew about the Carnegie family and their mistakes.

"I'm sorry for your loss." It was getting more difficult by the second to not reveal that she indeed was Eleanor. It was becoming harder to not tell him she still loved him.

Love... then it struck her, two kids. His child passed away and so did hers, maybe it was a misunderstanding on her part, but they did fall in love. The fortune teller from their honeymoon from god-knows-how-long-ago had been right in his own twisted way.