The Definition Of Love (Book 1) [Gxg]

Chapter 29

Nick fumbled with his wallet. He growled as his big hands tried to retrieve his money.

"Urgh, I just want some damn cigarettes."

The cashier looked a little scared. I mean anyone would be if they saw Nick on one of his bad days. An overgrown stubble, that you couldn't call a beard. Muscles bulging and visible due to his tank top. Untamed and messy hair. And a devilish smirk. His brown eyes dark. And his nose almost always flared. Not to mention his long nails and his single pierced ear and the countless tattoos that were etched across his arms.

"Keep the damn change," he growled again as the cashier attempted to 'carry the one'.

He walked out of the shop as if he owned the place. His stride confident, his hands in the pockets of his shorts. He pulled out his car keys and beeped open his chic black Jaguar. He slammed the door shut and sped of to the beach. Once he reached, he got out, lit up a cigarette and grabbed his surf board. He had to surf. Surfing calmed him down. The ocean cleared his mind. He'd been born on the ocean. On a yacht. The ocean had always been his home. The ocean was his everything. He had as much power over it as it had over him when he was surfing. It almost felt as if he was creating the waves. The waves of teal and light blue.

He threw his cigarette into a nearby bin. He was not going to litter on the beach. Not on his home territory. He threw off his tank top, and dove into the water with his board. He disrupted the light that danced on the surface.

He'd never been good with words. That had been more of his wife's thing. He was more of an artist. He'd painted these waves so many times. Each with more life than the last. The sunsets, the light and the beautiful haze in the horizon. The sea and art, his two favorite things... when combined, displayed inexplicable beauty.

Once he was done surfing, he dropped his board on the sand and sprawled on it. He placed his palms under his head, and crossed his legs. He stared up at the sun. He'd been doing this for as long as he could remember. But he used to do it with other people.... not alone. With his brother, his dad, his mother... and his wife.

She used to look ethereal under the teal waves. Her dark skin glistening and her beautiful black hair fluttering in the wind. Her smile, more beautiful than Nick could describe with his limited vocabulary. 

"Inanna Hallows," he whispered the name, loving the way it rolled off his tongue, "My wife." He lost himself in memories of her. How they'd met...she'd walked into his dorm room on her first day at their college, by mistake. And how he'd fallen for her as soon as he saw her avert her gaze from his that day. How he'd been listening to music on his bed and how the lyrics that had played when she'd walked in were, 'Love at First Sight.'

They'd had a perfect life. At first she'd been really hard to convince. She was from an Indian family and for some reason they were against dating. He'd had to run after her and steal her heart, slowly, with his irresistibly charming jokes and naturally clumsy nature. He'd carried her grocery bags and tripped down the stairs with them one day. And that was the day he'd first heard her laugh. An indescribably mellifluous laughter. He'd grinned at her with egg yolk dripping from the top of his head.

They'd gone to college in L.A. And once they were done with their education, Nick wasted no time in proposing. They'd had to get married without Inanna's parents' permission. So after marriage they decided to move to Washington D.C. Inanna had become an author, while he'd become an architect. They had both been extremely successful and by the time Inanna had become pregnant, they'd been loaded.

She'd given birth to a baby as beautiful as her. A small baby girl that forced Nick's big, rough hands to become delicate.