Amy walked into the hotel. She looked at the spacious building, the shimmering chandeliers, soft yet intense lights, and met the toothy grin of the receptionist. She looked at her husband, striding into the elevator and felt dwarfed. Why couldn't she do anything? Why couldn't she tell her parents? Or even the police? Right, he was known as an established and successful businessman, couldn't hurt a fly. She hoped that the bruise on her cheekbone was visible to the receptionist, and yet she hoped that it wasn't. She didn't want any trouble.
"-with Mr Walker?" The receptionist smiled, showing off her pearly whites.
"What? Could you repeat that, please?" Amy asked, only having caught the end of the receptionist's words.
"I said: Are you with Mr Walker?" The receptionist, whose name tag she glanced at and saw to be Mandy, said again with her red lipstick, that made her teeth seem even whiter.
"Yes, I am," She said, adjusting the hold on her littlest child.
"Your room number is 134,as I told your husband. I hope you have a great time in Maygeld Hotel and Suites," the receptionist ratted off, she clearly had it memorized from saying it to so many people. Her lipstick had caught on a tooth, giving it a red glint. Amy made to inform her, but closed her mouth on second thought. It was none of her business.
She motioned for her children to go into the elevator, heart pounding against her ribs. She breathed a shaky breath and closed the door of the elevator, a hand going to massage her temples.
"Wait up!" She looked up at the sound of the voice. A man bounded for the elevator, stopping it just in time before it closed. He stepped in the elevator, ruffled.
"I'm really sorry about that, I shouldn't have done that, I just couldn't wait. . ." As the man tripped over his excuses, Amy couldn't help it; her lips curved into an unintentional smile. She waited for him to stop. When he finally did, she shrugged to let him know all was good.
"It's fine, you just rattled my children a little bit." His eyes ran over the children's bodies, his concern obvious from the furrow of his eyebrows. "Are they alright?"
He cast his gaze to her, and she couldn't help but notice his eyes, the warm toffee colour making her nerves all jumbled up. She looked down, patting Jude's head as an excuse for not looking at him again. Besides, her neck ached from craning it to look at him. He was quite tall. She felt like a teenager.
"They're fine, I'm sure." Even as she said it, her eyes still roved over them, making sure they were well and truly alright.
"That's good to hear, then." He scratched his head, and Amy's gaze went to the mop of sun bleached hair, not quite blond, not quite dark: a mix between the two. She automatically smiled again, what was wrong with her?
"Uh. . . I'm Bob." He offered a hand to her, and she stared at it, hesitating. It won't bite, her mind taunted, but just as she raised her hand to take it, he dropped his, his face heating up. She dropped her hand just as he raised his again, and she blushed this time. Finally, they both gave up and smiled at each other.
"I'm Amy," She said, just as the elevator stopped at its destination and the door opened.
He smiled, an easy going one that made her feel a good kind of queasy inside, and stepped out. She stepped out as well, and her children did the same. The butterflies in her stomach turned to a ball of guilt; she'd forgotten about her children! For a short time, but she still forgot. She looked at her children and the way their eyes went over Bob, especially Simon's, calculating if he was a good man or not.
"My room is 137, so I suppose we're at the same floor, considering we dropped at the same floor. Or whatever." He rushed through his words yet again, like he was in a hurry. "I'll see you sometime, then?" And with a wave, he strode toward his door. She blinked, and came back to reality. To Luke. She'd wasted enough time already, and God only knew what he was going to do to her now. With a mumbled prayer, she went into the room, where she knew Luke would be waiting.
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
Double update!!
Am I the best, or am I the best? 🙆
Wait. Give me a moment.
Double update! Passed the 500 word count! Passed the 600 word count! PASSED THE 700 WORD COUNT!!
I know, I'm fab 😊
How d'y'all like Bob? Charming, isn't he? I know, he's supposed to be. I ship them already, lol.
But can Luke change? Even the stoniest of hearts can, right?
Is this going to be a love triangle???
I'm already giving my story possible plot twists. 😂
Question of the chapter: What language/s do you speak? I only speak English and Yoruba, but I've decided to broaden my horizon and learn more languages.
This chapter is dedicated to TaniHanes, reading her stories made me conquer my writers block! And though she doesn't know it, she has been very supportive, by answering my comments and being a role model. Thank you, Tani! 💟
xoxo Esther 💕
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On the Run
General FictionLuke Walker. Warm father to four beautiful children, caring husband to a lovely wife. It was wrong. All of it was. Luke Walker. Just a father, just a husband. Didn't act like a father, didn't act as a husband. Repeatedly beating and bruising his wif...
