If you read the free version, you saw the next two paragraphs. I’m still sorry I am a day late with my posts this week. Punctuality is important to me, so I strive to keep a posting schedule. It’s been a bit difficult with all the doctor’s appointments I’ve had lately, but I’m doing my best.
Recently I have experienced quite the whirlwind of health issues. If you follow my social media at all, you know I have been battling against allergies and other respiratory issues that have stolen my voice away. I spent the vast majority of my day yesterday (7+ hours friends, 7+ hours…) at the doctor trying to figure out what’s going on with my body. I didn’t get my post out on time. I’m sorry about that.
This week’s foray into the creative wellspring in my mind is brought to you by paper planes. Yes, you read that correctly. Sometimes I get stuck in what I’m writing, and my husband knows when I’m heavily focused, and when to pull me back. Today’s short story was a sweet look into what happens when we hold onto love instead of negativity. Inspired by the thread pictured below:
I hope you enjoy this week’s look into Sarai and Darien’s complicated romance; this is still a small excerpt of their larger story. Feel free to leave your thoughts at the end and let me know if you’re interested in their full story!
Famke’s stare tracked us through the crowd, another song passing without Darien changing partners.
“Do you really believe I would stoop so low?” Brows arched, surprise coloring his tone.
“I don’t know you anymore at all. How can I believe anything about you?” I challenged.
Hurt flashed across his features, there and gone as he schooled his face back into a pleasant mask. He spun me in silence, pulling me so close when I twirled back that I felt every hard inch of muscle against my body. There was so little space between us it was difficult to move freely, and he slowed our momentum, keeping us in a smaller space.
“I’m the same male I was years ago when I worked on your father’s staff.” A small smile played over his face. “The same one who snuck you wine-filled chocolates from the kitchens before the formal dinners so we could eat them and laugh before you had to stay quiet all night.”
My heart ached with the memory. Hours spent laughing as we ate the illicit candies under the willow tree in the back gardens. A tree whose branches had been trimmed to look like a hideous topiary. For all their green magic, low-born elves always managed to ruin a landscape. The phantom fragrance of roses and lilies lingered on the breeze as the branches swayed while we talked.
“None of that matters now. You can’t freely marry any more than I could. Royalty always comes with a cost.”
“I’ll marry who I damn well choose.” He growled.
A heartbeat passed, and I marked the determination settling in his eyes. Darien hesitated for one more short heartbeat, giving me time to move. But I couldn’t. Couldn’t move, couldn’t look away.
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