A Dangerous Captive (Completed)

6. Reunion

Song: The Longing - Imelda May

(edited)

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Adelaide

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"Jamie?" I asked, my voice louder than I had anticipated it to be.

He turned around and my heart dropped to my feet.

"Adelaide?"

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 I ran to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and I was engulfed in his familiar and comforting scent yet again. 

The closest to home I've ever been. 

"I thought you were dead," I whispered into his chest, trying my best to hold back tears. 

His body instantly relaxed and his arms made his way around me, finding their way into my hair.

"Oh, Addy I'm so sorry." He whispered into my hair.

His voice was soft like velvet and he smelled like the day after heavy rain.

I thought he was dead. I thought he was dead. 

I thought he was dead.

Yet, here he was.

In Romano's house?

I tore myself away from his comforting arms and did something I never thought I would have to do to those soft cheeks. I slapped him. Hard.

"I thought you were dead." I seethed.

My emotions were rising, rage started to engulf my being, tears of frustration rolling down my cheeks leaving behind small rivers and dripping onto the tiled floor.

He hung his head, his curly hair flopping over his face. 

He didn't meet my eyes.

A deafening silence hung in the air as both Jamie and I came to terms with the fact that we were both alive and in front of each other.

Once upon a time, I had loved Jamie with my whole heart. 

He worked in the IT department of MI6 and I found myself bumping into him on several occasions for trials or briefings about our next missions. 

He was always serious and businesslike, so unlike everyone else I had met which drew me to him.

He was my first everything. 

First love, first kiss, first boyfriend, first time. 

Then he disappeared. 

MI6 searched for about 2 months until they located his dead carcass in Italy. 

He was immediately pronounced dead.

I didn't cry when I found out. I didn't scream. I didn't feel anything. I sat in my room for days on end, ignoring the food that was brought to me despite the desperate cries of my fellow peers.

 Guilt was the only thing I felt. I was consumed by it. I thought that I could've protected him, but I failed.

I was a failure.

And here he was. Heart beating. Lungs breathing. Muscles contracting. Eyes blinking. Hair growing. Brain functioning. 

He was in front of me. 

MI6 probably wanted to rid themselves of a scandal and faked his death.

The sound of someone clearing his throat brought me out of my thoughts and back to reality.