terça-feira, 14 de abril de 2015

Postponed Dreams a novel


"Two hours later she was no longer calm, but she felt at peace with herself and had Paris at her feet. On the first floor of the Eiffel Tower, facing the Trocadero, she observed the movement of people, tourists like her, and boats that were circling the River Seine. It was there where Thierry asked her to wait for him. He wanted to make her a surprise, he said. She should be excited and with the heart pounding, but she carried a sorrow as never before in her life. She didn’t like whining, and even less feeling sorry for herself. She had always been a fighter and rarely gave up to something, not even when Rose broke her ribs to knocks, but she had to admit that life had been tough with her. Nobody deserves what was happening to her. She believed to have already had her punishments, but for some reason life was choosing her to be punished again. With tears running down her face - so much beauty around her but so much sadness too - arrived at the network protection, oblivious to all the people were there and let out a cry of rage, deep, coming from the bowels. A number of heads turned in her direction and an old man, tall, with white hair, asked her in a French with an English accent:
- Are you ok? Do you need help with something? Shall I call a security?
Aline shook her head and smiled with tears, trying to hide the pain. Thanked him and again said that she was okay. She convinced the man, who without delay walked away, and the dozens of people who were there began to circulate again. She looked at her watch and saw that she still had twenty minutes until he arrived. So she decided to go up the stairs to the second floor. The effort would do well to her and so the fresh air.

A text fell on the iPhone. It was Thierry ask references about her location. She text him back with some levity giving funny details, trying to lighten her mood. She didn’t want him to know yet. Maybe those were the last days they would spend together and now she had to be extra cautious. How would she tell him that they couldn’t have contact? The doctor didn’t say her that she couldn’t although. But she felt dirty and afraid of infect him. During the night, in the middle of an insomnia that invaded her, decided she was going to tell him after the championship. She couldn’t let anyone look bad, even less him or the Association.
There he was. At the top of the ladder, flushed because the effort of the rise - he mustn’t have wanted to wait for the elevator because the queue was huge - with a bouquet of red roses in his hands. Beautiful as his country style. Anyone could see that he wasn’t a city man by the relaxed clothing he was wearing. Jeans, T-shirt, boots and a brown leather jacket. But she loved him. He was her first love. She met so many men, and none left good memories. Only him. His long arms opened to receive her and Aline ran to take refuge in them. When he closed his arms around her, she felt safe and loved. She couldn’t hold back the tears. Today she was a crybaby. Thierry approached his mouth to her face, near to her temple, and said:
- I am here my love. You thought you were going to get rid of me? – and pulled his face back to see her gaze.
He wiped her tears and kissed her eyes tenderly, indifferent to the looks and smiles of the tourists that were there.
- I will never want that. Now that I found you... - the hug brought her closer. – I don’t want to lose you. - she said being aware that might happen.

Thierry loved every detail about her, the subtlety and the characteristics she exhibited and her watchful eye, revealing the hidden message: he knew there was something shameful, even unspeakable since he met her. He didn’t care. Whatever it was wouldn’t prevent him to love her. He waited so long for a woman like her, with a simple personality but with a smart intellect, which he wouldn’t give up from her, even if he found some lurid secret. Her light and demure nature led him to think that enjoying the bustling of life as they danced and made love was a privilege, and he was grateful for it."

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