Alaya Khan, an 18-year-old British Pakistani girl, goes about her daily existence as any other young lady.
Alaya has no idea what she's getting herself into when she meets Alex Scott, a strong-willed, charming, smart, talented guy on her first day o...
I got up early today to meet Alaya and go to the farmers market with her. I'd only been in this small village for two days, but I could already see how everyone lived in a simple but refreshing way. I was certainly not used to seeing cows and sheep strolling down the winding roads. When you lived in the city, everything was at your fingertips, from ordering groceries online to ordering a meal. I could understand how the beautiful panoramic views might persuade someone to come and live up here. It was clear why Alaya adored this place. I wrote down her address so that I could put it into my GPS and drive up there. I know she said we'd walk up to the farmers market and then work, but the B&B I was staying at was a little out of the way. I assumed I'd park near her cottage and walk the rest of the way. I had never gone to a farmers market before and had no idea what to wear. So I put on a pair of dark blue slim fit jeans, a white t-shirt, and a thin black bomber jacket. Since the auction was planned for tonight, I had packed a suit in the boot of my car to change into when we headed to the gallery.
As I approached Alaya's cottage, I couldn't help but feel uneasy. What were we doing, exactly? So much had remained unsaid, and yet here I was, not demanding answers as I should have, but desiring her more than ever. Yesterday was great, but it wasn't real. It wasn't always so simple to start up where you left off in life. I was never able to get the closure I deserved. I understand she had to leave, but she could have called me to let me know she was alright, and I would have come running back to her. Why didn't she ever call me back? Was I not enough? Just in case she would ever call me, I kept my phone number. These were the thoughts that plagued me throughout the night, when I dropped her home. I pushed so hard to move on, and now I'm back where I started five years ago. My insecurities had reawakened.
It didn't matter if I was thinking about it or not since I had a sudden need to get on with my day, which included seeing her. I pulled up to the side and opened the cottage gate. I walked up the stone path. Everything about this cottage screamed Alaya.
I was going to knock on her door when Alaya opened it and stepped forward towards me. "Hey, you came?" she asked, a smile on her face.
"Yes, how did you know I'd arrived? I didn't even knock the door ", I inquired, puzzled.
"I heard your car pull up. Do you want to come in or shall we head to the farmers market? The earlier you arrive, the better the produce," she exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement.
"I suppose we can go," I answered, a drab tone in my voice.
She grabbed her bag and slung it on the side of her shoulder. She appeared to be exactly how I remembered her, beautifully effortless. She wore a white polar neck top, brown leather skirt, paired with white pumps and a black bomber jacket. Her hair was partly up in a topknot and the rest was down in waves. Her make-up was minimal, which I liked but her natural state was my favourite.
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I needed to concentrate, but she was making it tough. She was breathaking to look at. I continued shaking my head to clear my mind and remain focused.
We walked up the market, which was only a short distance. There were so many stalls with a wide range of organic goods. There were baked goods, flowers and plants, eggs, cheese, milk, bread, honey, cold cut meats, candles, soaps, and bath and beauty products, from what I could see. I only went to my local supermarket to get my groceries, so this was a new experience for me.
Alaya had taken my arm in hers and led me on a tour of the market. I looked at her a few times to see if she'd touched me by accident, but she hadn't, and it almost felt like she knew what she was doing. She was trying to explain the many goods available, but all I could think of was wanting to be with her, holding her hand and never letting go. I couldn't do this. My anxiety was building, and I was gradually losing control. I thought I could handle being around her but I'm not strong enough. I needed to get out of there, so I turned to Alaya, who was inhaling a fragrance from a candle at the candle stall, and blurted, "what are we doing Alaya? What is this between us?," releasing her grip on my arm and pointing back and forth between me and her. "Alaya, why are you still wearing the bracelet I gave you. You've invited me to the farmers market as if everything is alright between us. I'm getting so many mixed messages from you. You know what, I need to go. I thought I'd be able to do this, but I can't. I'm not strong enough. I'm.... sorry."
I left before Alaya could stop me. I could see her mumble something as she lifted her hand, but I didn't wait. I walked away.
Alaya POV
"I'm sorry Alex." I mumbled, as I watched the only man I'd ever loved walk away from me, I can't say I blame him. I desperately wanted to stop him, but I knew I didn't deserve his forgiveness. When I left him that day, this is how he must have felt. Broken. That was one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do, but now I realise how selfish it was of me to abandon him without providing an explanation.
I sat on a wooden bench with tears streaming down my face, realising that this was my punishment. I didn't deserve this man's love. I was naïve to believe we could start up where we left off and carry on as if the past five years had never happened. I'd find a way to live with it if Alex didn't want anything to do with me, just as he had to. I tried to wipe away my tears, but they wouldn't stop falling.
I walked home since I needed to get ready for work and the auction was tonight. I wasn't in the mood to go to work, but I had no choice because this was such an important night. So many people were counting on the night's success. I rode to work on my bike and parked it at the bike stand. I looked for his car, but it was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he's gone and won't be back. I can't say I blame him. I'd leave as well, because I'm nothing but damaged goods.
