Searching Hearts (5 page)

Each time he says, “Nothing.” But the last
time, he adds, “It’s just… you’re really beautiful.” I blush deep,
dark pink, which makes his blue eyes dance over a wicked smile. I’m
surprised he doesn’t ask me about Jack, but I don’t bring it up.
I’m just overjoyed to be here, feeling that my life might be worth
living after all, like I’m a bird whose cage has disappeared.

I fall asleep in his arms. He goes into the
dream place before me and I listen to his breathing until I’m taken
away, too.

When the sunlight wakes me a bit after dawn,
I stretch to snuggle with him, but find only cold sheets beside me,
and a flattened pillow. I sit up, confused and look around me. The
suitcase that was lying to the left of the bed is gone. The jacket
over the chair, also absent. “Brendan?” I call and feel a deep
foreboding snake into my heart. “Brendan?” Throwing the covers off,
I touch my feet to the cool wood floor, and wince. Naked, I step
out into the living room and see no signs. The bathroom door is
wide open, bragging of vanished toiletries –toothbrush, razor – all
gone. My stomach twists hard as it dawns on me that I’ve been
abandoned. I run to peek through a slice between curtains. I don’t
even know what he was driving.

For an hour I wait, hoping he’s just gone
into town to get coffee. But I know the truth. I just don’t want to
accept it.

He’s gone.

I have no idea what his last name is. I have
no idea how to get ahold of him. I don’t know where he’s from.

He’s gone.

And I will never see him again.

Brendan

Driving my Mustang back down the PCH. Heart:
closed. Mind: locked. Life: changed forever.

______________________

The waves to my right crash, turning
everything inside out… only this time it signifies the changing
tides of life - not the lashing pain of uncertainty and
powerlessness I felt when I’d arrived. The charm of Mendocino
calmed my mind. The Good Witch who checked me into the place and
gave me the key to freedom, was right – it’s a magical place.

Meeting Rebecca pretty much soothed Sara
right out of me. And then seeing Rebecca for what she was – a
married woman who flirted and toyed with me like my feelings didn’t
matter – woke me right out of victimhood.

When her husband came back and she didn’t
leave to talk to him – I lost respect for her. I wanted to say,
“Didn’t you guys give each other vows? Can’t you at least go talk
to him?” and almost did tell her, a few times. But each time she
asked me what I was thinking, I stopped myself. If she doesn’t
know, I’m not going to tell her. I get to watch and learn who she
is, without trying to teach her who she should be, which is the
kind of woman who helps her husband through a hard time. It was
easier to tell her she was beautiful and watch her get happy… and
drop it.

It’s all in the past now. I took what I
wanted. She got what she wanted. Win/win.

When I get back, I’m going to call up my
buddy Mark and we are going to hit the town. Watch out San
Francisco. Oh man. I can’t wait.

I came up here wanting rest and I got it. I
got the peace of mind to tell me what the rest of my life will be
like. It will be
mine
.

I will take what I want and do who I like.
And that will be everybody.

Women have twisted my heart for the last
time.

Never again.

The End of The Prelude

The Completed Series of
Three Loyal & Amazing Best Friends

I LOVE MY
HEALED HEART
(box set -
JESSICA)

I LOVE MY
SIDE OF THE STORY
(
AMBER)

I LOVE MY
FIRE
(box set -
NICOLE)

Series Box Set: “I Love
My…Trilogy”

Searching Hearts – the prelude

Throbbing Hearts
-
Part 1

Reaching Hearts -
Part 2

Crushing Hearts – Part 3

Tempting Hearts – Part 4

Tangling Hearts – Part 5

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Xx, S.L.

_________________________

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sabrina Lacey used to shoot
photography and fashion. She was like Diego, the photographer
in
I Love My Healed Heart
who worked the tents at Fashion Week. It gave
Sabrina all the insight she needed to create a fantastical tale
about the glamorous lives those people don’t really live. ;) She
grew up near San Francisco, went to A.C.T. there – and so writing
about Brendan and Annie’s tale has been a fun touch-base with the
old haunts. Now she lives in Los Angeles, CA.
where she writes and wishes there were more thunderstorms.
Who doesn’t LOVE a great thunderstorm with a sexy man, a glass of
red wine, and a crackling fireplace?