Destiny Gift (The Everlast Trilogy) - By Juliana Haygert Page 0,4
she left, strolling through the coffee shop like a famous actress crossing the red carpet.
I went back to work.
After attending to some tables, scribbling down orders, and passing along the requests, I returned to the back of the café, inhaling deeply. I loved the strong and rich coffee scent of the place. I was crazy about coffee and blamed my addiction on my mother, who made the best black coffee I’ve ever tasted. She always had a mug ready whenever I wanted one. Because of it, my parents’ kitchen had a permanent coffee aroma. Delicious.
I peeked out the door. In the front, Adam talked to the girl working the cash register. The manager was out again. I could hide out for a few minutes.
With my chemistry book under my apron, I sneaked into the dark and humid storage room and closed the door. I shouldn’t be studying during work, but I still had one more exam before I was done with spring semester. I had to study if I wanted to pass organic chemistry this time.
I opened the book to chapter eight, ready to read about Aliphatic Hydrocarbon. The number eight shined, almost floating off the page. I disregarded it. Another hallucination, probably. I read, trying to concentrate.
A light stab inside my chest spread like spiderwebs, carrying warmth and a rush of adrenaline down my arms and legs, tingling all over my skin. The world revolved around me, enveloping me in darkness. I blinked and let the pull carry me.
Butterflies danced in my stomach. What type of vision would this one be? Maybe it would be one of the ones where I was like a ghost, observing Victor’s actions, or one where he interacted with me. I preferred the latter, of course, but I was always happy with the ghost visions too, since I was able to watch over the man who had stolen my heart.
One simple flicker of my eyes and I found myself transported to the world my visions created. The scene adjusted and I smiled. I was in a candlelit ballroom. Harmonious music came from violins and harps. A beautiful, deep red gown replaced my usual jeans and tee.
Curious, I touched my hair. Two side braids met at the back of my head. The rest of my long, light brown hair fell loose in soft curls.
I was here, in the world where Victor existed. I’d made the right choice leaving that psychiatrist’s office. I needed to be with him. Always.
“Is anything wrong with your hair?” His melodic voice came from behind me.
My heart flipped furiously. I turned to face him and took in the perfection of his body clad in his black tuxedo, and his honey hair, gelled back to show his face. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.
“Hello, my favorite girl.” He flashed one of his award-winning smiles. “How are you?” He came closer and took me in his arms, sweeping me into a dance without asking. He knew he didn’t need to ask.
It was so easy for him to render me breathless. “I’m better now,” I whispered, falling into step with him, letting him guide me through the ballroom.
“I’ve missed you.” Serious now, his eyes bored into mine.
“I’ve missed you too.” I stared up at him, struggling against my own mind so as not to lose myself in his face. He let go of my waist, guiding me through a graceful spin under his arm, then caught me again, pulling me back to press against him.
“Is your grandmother any better?” I asked.
Despite the fact that the world in my visions was not real, he had a life and a history in here. The setting where we found each other—a ballroom, atop a mountain, a classroom, a cruise ship, a bistro—changed often, but his daily life remained the same, in a world of his own, inside my mind.
After nine months having these visions, I didn’t question their authenticity anymore, or why they felt so real and normal. They felt a part of my life, like going to class or work.
However, his world wasn’t quite perfect. His grandma had stomach cancer, and the diagnosis wasn’t good. She was the only family he had left.
His face fell a little, but he kept spinning me across the floor. “She woke up better this morning, but the doctors want to transfer her to a larger hospital. One with a specialized cancer center.”
“What are you going to do?”
“What can I do? If they think the move will be better for her,