Life After Life

•C h a p t e r T w o•

"What the fuck!" my victim crunched over, his face contorted in pain. His hand flew to his jaw.

It was Noah.

I knew who he was. Nothing about him had changed, not from what I could remember. From his ruffled dark hair, dark eyes and long lashes that casted shadows over his cheeks. I let out a shaky breath, my heart racing from the sight of him. After all this time, I still felt the same.

"Wow..." his friend ran a hand through his hair, looking between Noah and I, swallowing hard. He grimaced.

"Ophelia—" Noah didn't pay him any mind as his eyes remained trained on me. They widened in recognition.

That name.

I didn't think. Instead, I spun around in my heels and sprinted out the class. No one had ever called me Ophelia before, and I'd never met anyone with that name. My knees shook and my hand found the wall to steady myself when it finally sprung to my mind. I remembered that name, because it was my name.

S U M M E R: 1 8 5 3

The ballroom was alive, bustling with Lords, Barons, Counts with their Ladies. I stood silently next to Mother as couples whisked by us, dancing to a lively tune. I had been asked a total of three times to dance and my feet had begun to ache. Father was off socializing, somewhere across the ballroom with other men.

Mother had her heart set on finding me a suitor, taking me to balls and dances at least once every fortnight. If she was not fatigued by all the dancing, I was. And yet, she looked as lively as ever, with her blonde hair that mirrored my own done up, dressed elegantly in a purple silk gown.

The chandeliers lined across the ceilings brightened the energy in the room, complementing the golden banisters and windowsills.

Mother and I watched in silence at the ladies and gentlemen twirling and twisting on the dance floor.

"May I have your daughter's hand for the next dance?" a man's husky voice sounded from next to me. I turned to see a man with honey yellow hair, dressed in a dull brown dress coat and pants.

I glanced over at Mother, waiting on her answer.

"My daughter has already been asked for," she grinned and the man's face dropped.

"Of course, my apologies," he said dejected, bending over in a slight bow. He walked off, disappearing behind a group of ladies giggling and socializing.

My brows furrowed slightly. I had not already been asked for. I wished I had the chance to tell him that it was not true, and that I would not have minded a dance with him. But I was not allowed to.

"Why did you lie Mother?" I asked in a hushed tone.

"Did you see his clothes? His name is not wealthy enough for my daughter," she scoffed and I found my lips curling down. I would not have minded a dance with that man, he seemed charming. It was just not my choice to make.

The music stopped abruptly, and a new piece began playing, signaling a new dance. This piece was quick paced and short.

"How about that lovely young man, Ophelia?" Mother nodded her head at a man just a short distance away. He looked striking, clad in a black dress coat and pants.

I shrugged, "He looks decent."

That was not the full truth. He was attractive and tall, with his dark wavy hair, dark eyes and slim build. I swallowed hard, turning my attention away from the man. A lady should not be caught staring. But even then, I could not help myself. I eyed him again from where he was sitting alone. The lady he accompanied must have been off dancing.