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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/806098-Chapter-18
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by Rojodi Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Book · Thriller/Suspense · #1975937
Sometimes people are given a second chance at living one moment over.
#806098 added February 6, 2014 at 5:22pm
Restrictions: None
Chapter 18
Chapter 18

She can’t stop smiling at him. The band was playing but she didn’t hear any music. Her entire attention was on him. She knew she liked him the first moment she laid eyes on him. She knew there was a deep affection for him over time by talking with him and sharing dreams. Tonight, however, was the capper: his defense of her without throwing a punch sealed it for her.

The prom was winding down and the band was playing a slow song, the second in a row. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for making this night so special for me.

“Listen to her,” the Presence said. “Take to heart what’s she’s telling you. The words didn’t come easy to her and they come from her heart. Trust me, listen to them, and comprehend them.”

What do you mean? Do you know something?

“Common sense dictates that you should listen. I’m only reminding you to do it.”

You do know something.

“I don’t know anything. I don’t even know why I’m here, inside your soul.”

What are you saying? What do you mean? You don’t even know.

“Just listen to Miss De Fiore.”

Micah could feel the Presence begin to fade, to drop further in the back of his mind. He could also feel a change in it, as if something happened. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he sensed it nevertheless.

Antoinette ran her right hand against his left cheek and removed his glasses. She looked deeply into his eyes. “I’ve never really looked into your eyes, Micah. They’re so beautiful, so dark, and so mysterious.”

“They’re not as beautiful as you. Remember that first day, the line I used on you?”

She demurred, not wanting to admit to it. “Yes.”

“I meant it. I meant it when I said you were beautiful. I wasn’t trying to bullshit you or lie to get to know you better.”

She stopped moving and blushed. “At the time I thought you were telling me something just to get my attention, but now, I know you were truthful. Again, thank you for making me happy tonight.” Antoinette kissed him on the cheek.

The band announced it was their last song; this was the last dance. They sang “Endless Love,” a song the Albany High School senior class chose as the prom’s theme. She hugged him tightly. She leaned against his chest.

She loved to feel his body, loved when his chest rose and fell when he breathed. To her, the sound of his heartbeat was that of reassurance, it signaled to her that someone cared for her, was there to make her happy. Antoinette knew Micah was special, and that he made her feel the same way. She came to the sudden realization their connection was deeper than a physical attraction. She felt their mutual respect. She felt his deep-seeded care for her. She moaned softly; she knew he was in it for the long run.

“I love you.” Just three words but so impactful. He said them quickly and without thought. They came from the emotional center of his soul and once spoken, Micah knew they were the right three words to tell her. “I love you, Toni,” he repeated.

She looked at him, into his eyes, searching for any hint of lying. The words had meaning to her, bearing on her soul. She was speechless: she saw the honesty in his soul. “I love you, too.”

It caught him off-guard, didn’t expect her to respond so quickly. Those words made his stomach tumble with butterflies. The excitement of hearing her agree with him was more than he expected. His knees buckled.

She pushed against him; put him back straight. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t expect you to answer so quickly. You surprised me.”

“I surprised you?” She took his hand and led him away from the dance floor, led him to an empty table. “You surprised me. How long have you known that you loved me?”

He looked at her and smiled. He waited a moment for the Presence to speak, to say something, to tell him he didn’t do the right thing. There was nothing. “You’ll think I’m nuts, I’m crazy if I tell you.”

She held his hand and looked into his eyes. She saw the love he had for her in them. “No, I won’t.” She had something to tell him, long time information that might make him angry. She swallowed hard and looked nervous. “Micah, I know won’t call you crazy. I’ve loved you since the first time you held my hand.”

His mouth opened, he was shocked. His gaped mouth slowly turned into a broad smile. “I’ve loved you since the first time I held yours.”

They went silent. They just sat alone, looking into each other’s eyes. For Micah, he didn’t need her to say anything: he knew her love was true. For Antoinette, his silence said more than anything he could have said: His eyes showed it all.

“Care to join us?” Dianne joked.

Antoinette turned to her friend, her makeup running. “He told me he loves me, before I told him.”

“I am so happy for you.”



Antoinette stood against the wall, looking at Micah. In one hand, she had her bouquet. In the other, she had his hand. He was talking with Drummond and Harrison while waiting for their limo. She didn’t want the feeling to end, the feeling of first true love. She didn’t hear any of what Micah was talking about, didn’t hear her friends say goodbye. She didn’t care. She was in love and so was Micah with her.

A teenage girl nudged Antoinette gently on the arm. “How does it feel?” Dianne asked again.

“Oh, are you talking to me?” She came to her senses, away from her dream. Since the end of the prom, she couldn’t think of anything else, nothing, just him and their new love for one another.

“Yes I am. So, how does it feel?”

Antoinette looked at her friend and shook her head. “I can’t really describe it.”

Terri joined the conversation. “Try to, please. I want to know if that’s what I’m feeling for Cam.”

“Best way I can is, do you remember how you felt as a kid as Christmas approached? How your stomach felt? How the excitement and anticipation felt?”

Both girls nodded.

“Multiply that by one hundred, and that’s where you start.”

Dianne hugged her friend. “I know how you’ve felt about him for so long. I am so happy for you.”

“How long have you felt this way?” Terri asked.

Antoinette looked at her beau and just smiled, ignoring the question. Dianne answered for her. “She’s told me a lot that she’s felt this way for Micah since the first time they held hands.” She looked around and leaned into Terri. She whispered, “She also told me that it took him hours to ask her out, and if he hadn’t, she would have.”

“Looks like we’re next,” Dianne said, looking over her friends’ shoulders.

“Okay, we’re up,” Jimmy Harrison added when their limousine came to a stop.

“Shall we go, my love?” Micah said, rolling over his left hand to Antoinette. She tilted her head, placed her right hand in his, and told him yes. The two walked slowly to their ride, the back doors open for all six riders.

“Let’s go in first,” Micah said. Antoinette just nodded and slid all the way to the left. Micah sat next to her.

She leaned on his shoulder and whispered, “I love you.”



Kiliaen Van Rossum sat on an oversized leather chair in the front of an empty fireplace. On the table next to him, a cigar lay lit in an ashtray next to a fresh snifter of Napoleon brandy. He had a long workday and finally was home to relax. Normally, he would have a late dinner then read before going to bed, put tonight, he decided to have a cigar and brandy before opening a book. In the distance, one of the servants had the stereo on, the radio on the classical music station. A suite by Bach was playing, the name he didn’t care to recollect, just wanted to enjoy the music as he smoked and drank the expensive alcohol.

“What is it Bartholomew?” he asked, hearing the almost imperceptible footsteps of his closest manservant.

A man dressed in a black tuxedo stood at the room’s threshold, his back ramrod straight, his hands folded behind him. “Pardon the intrusion, Sir, but you wanted me to tell you Mr. Hannah arrived.”

“Thank you,” Van Rossum said without leaving his seat or turning his gaze from the fireplace. “Send him in.” He took a sip from the crystal snifter, one of ten his grandfather presented to him on his high school graduation.

Bartholomew bowed and walked out of the room, replaced by one of his henchmen. “Has he been dealt with?”

“Yes, he has sir,” Hannah lied.
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