🎶 This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain
And a hundred percent reason to remember the name🎶
***
This book contains all the entries I submitted for writing...
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I believed I loved reunions. Reconnecting with people who used to be part of my daily lives sounded exciting and fun.
But at this moment, there was no fun. I was nervous to be alone, scared to scan the resort and possibly—
I swallowed when my brown orbs landed on the wet washboard abs that emerged from the pool, glistening under the summer sun. I needed a drink, forgetting that I was actually sipping the mango shake.
No. Don't roam past the V line. Focus on the abs. Sheet! The abs are moving toward me.
"You should've ordered more if you're going to stare longer."
My devilishly handsome ex.
Pool water droplets fell on my bare legs and when I met his hazel eyes, the temperature increased by 10 degrees and 20 degrees more as his eyes followed the droplets as they landed on my olive skin. Surely, my ears were as red as my bikini. Good thing my hair hid them.
"H-hi Erik. How are you?"
He sat in the lounge next to mine.
"Never been better."
The laughter and the splash of water filled my ears. We stared at our classmates who were playing pool volleyball as if it was the most interesting game here.
Volleyball wasn't our thing. We liked swinging our arms with a racket in hand.
"Do you still play tennis?"
"Not since you left. Golf is my thing now."
It brought a lump in my throat and I couldn't look in his direction. He didn't know why I left but I couldn't tell him the reason. It would crush him. I was even embarrassed to admit it but I had no other choice. I loved myself more than I loved him.
"How are you doing after divorcing your fake rich husband?"
My head snapped in his direction, my jaw dropped and my eyes as big as the rock not far from us.
"I saw the contract in your room. Your Mom let me in."
Sheet! Even my Mom didn't know it was fake.
I studied his face, searching for anger, pain, bitterness but none of those. His eyes were staring at me the way he used to look at me.
"I was hurt but I understood. Love won't feed your stomach, pay your tuition fees and put a roof over your head."
Tears brimmed my eyes. "I'm sor—"
"Don't. I don't need your apology."
He stood while tears ran down on my face. With a blurry vision, I saw him sticking his hand out.
"Hi Miss Christa Morrison. I'm Erik Fernandez. Swim with me?"
For almost five years, people called me Mrs. Schwarz. Hearing my name from his mouth sounded like background music when something new was about to occur.
I slid my hand to his. The familiar warmth and flutters making their way to my stomach, dried my tears. "Nice to meet you Erik."
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### Author's Notes ### I said I'll take a break but here I am writing again because I can't fix a bug. I actually wrote for prompt 1&2 and couldn't decide which one to submit. The other one is more than 500 words and I don't have the time to edit and delete some words because the deadline is today. But the prompt 2 is a bit funny though. Oh well.
