Burned

Chapter 2

Thena's POV

There are few moments in my life where I feel as if the world is against me. Few moments when I know someone out there is working especially hard to make my life miserable.
This was definitely one of them.

I graduated with a first class honors in psychology from Oxford by the age of 20. At 21, I decided I didn't like people enough to pretend to care about their problems, so I made a career switch to interior design. My parents thought I was crazy, but dutifully loved me through it and funded my newfound dream (they didn't have any options seeing as I'm an only child). Two years later, I was decorating for the rich, famous and those who wanted to be, all over Europe and Africa. Now of course I know my success has been largely due to the wealth and connections of my parents, but they only got me through the door - my brain, hard work and tenacity have been what has kept me on the ascendency. You may be wondering what my life history has to do with this particular situation, so I'll tell you. All my life has been a cakewalk; God has been very good to me and I can't complain.

But when adversity decides to strike in my life, it doesn't do little shoves, it doesn't look like a bad day, the flu or rainy weather, it is absolutely CATASTROPHIC. It is carnage, it is blood, gore and the bubonic plague. When adversity strikes, it comes in the form of the man who left me at the altar, who now stands smiling at me, like all is right in the world. I first met Alistair when I was decorating his parents' townhouse as a budding interior decorator  two years ago (and yes, I specified to indicate that it is not close to being their only residence). He decided to make his presence known that fateful day, by throwing up all over the wallpaper I had specifically designed for his mother's reception room. The said wallpaper was stupidly expensive, and per the terms of my contract, I had to bear the cost of the damage - because no one is stingier than rich people.

But instead of throwing a fit of rage, all I felt was pity for the poor guy who looked like he was teetering on the edge of death. Even when he looked like Hades was about to dial his phone number, he cut a dashingly handsome picture: an Adonis worthy of all the legends told, even more perfect than Michelangelo's David. After he'd wretched his guts, he'd looked at me with iridescent green eyes and offered a dashing smile that literally stole my breath. Then he said:
" I'm so sorry to have ruined all your work, darling".
Darling.
Darling.
Darling.
British men are always using words like 'darling', 'love', 'sweetheart'; it's culture, tradition - it really means nothing. But when he said it, I felt like I was his darling. Like I was loved and cherished beyond compare, like he was my Mr. Darcy. And with a singular word and a charming smile, common sense flew out my brain, never to be seen again.

That is, until he left me at the altar, and my brain flew back into my skull with the same alacrity with which it left.

And now, Mr. Alistair Henry Whitfield IV, is back in my life without my permission. And like the first day we met, he's smiling at me like we are best of friends, and nothing ever happened between us.

So do you know what I do? I do what any normal girl would do: I deliver a punch to his annoyingly handsome face.

*******

Alistair's POV

The last place I thought I'd see Thena is exactly where I see her: the train station. I've tried contacting her everywhere and anywhere, and right when I think all hope is lost, I see her in the train station. So impulsively, I get on the same train as her, following at what I consider to be a safe distance. Thena has always stressed how she hates public transport. By her calculations, there is a very real possibility that you could be sat next to a serial killer or sexual predator, and would be none the wiser. Considering I've been stalking her for the past half hour, I'd venture to say her theories are not so fanciful.