The Prince's Bride (Part 1) - J.J. McAvoy Page 0,62
not have the right words, whatever am I to say to get your attention?
GM
I laughed. I didn’t mean to, but I did. Without even realizing it, I began to message Gale back then froze. What was I doing?
What was he doing?
Honestly, he couldn’t plan on writing to me every day, could he?
Even if I did not reply?
NOVEMBER 5
Dear Odette,
I must admit a small part of me hoped you would have called, written a letter, or sent a carrier pigeon if all else failed—however, no matter. I will not let this discourage me. Your city, Seattle, is very damp. It reminds me a lot of England. But it has its own charms. The people most especially. I find myself entertained just watching people here. Never mind me, though, how has your week been?
How do you move and breathe through this world?
What are you seeing?
What are you hearing?
GM
I wondered where the poetry went this time. Did he think I disliked it? I bit my lip, not sure what to say back, especially after not answering. Taking my phone, I recorded the sound of my guitarist and sent it to him as a message.
She speaks...well, sort of. However, I shall take it! He texted back.
I laughed.
“Odette?” One of the guys called out to me from the stage.
“Huh?”
“We’re ready.”
“Right.”
Sorry. Busy. I messaged back before putting my phone away. I was really busy, but I was sort of...excited to see what he’d write tomorrow.
He didn’t write.
I waited all freaking day.
But no letter came.
So now I was lying in bed feeling a little anxious.
But I didn’t call, either, because...But what if he wanted me to write, so he stopped writing? And I didn’t want to show that it bothered me because, apparently, I was ridiculous.
NOVEMBER 7
Dear Odette,
First, forgive me for not sending you a letter yesterday. There was a bit of a mix-up, and Wolfgang nearly died trying to get through the rain and lost it. Anyway, more importantly, what do you look like now? It feels as if it has been so long since we last met. At first, I was bothered by it, but now, I like to think that you enjoy this just as much as I do. After all, you could have easily called and told me to stop with my damn letters. I was expecting it, honestly. But seeing as how you have not, I am further encouraged. Clearly, you are starting to warm up to me.
GM
“You’re a little too smug,” I muttered down to the paper. And I was annoyed at myself for reading it! I knew he was going to do it again, but still, I read. Grabbing my phone, I texted.
I am not warming up even a little bit.
I beg to differ. —Gale
You cannot differ on the topic of my emotions. —Odette
I can, and I do. —Gale
You’re annoying. You know that, right? —Odette
And yet, here you are messaging me. —Gale
Because you keep writing to me. —Odette.
Tell me to stop writing then. —Gale
I frowned, not texting back.
Did someone turn up the temperature? I do believe your hesitation is proof that you are warming up to me. —Gale
You aren’t funny! —Odette
I beg to differ. —Gale
“Ugh!” I groaned, lying back down.
Let me know when you wish to stop avoiding me. —Gale
I am not avoiding you. —Odette.
Are you sure? —Gale.
Yes. —Odette.
Then join me for lunch or dinner today. —Gale.
I’m busy. —Odette.
Yes, busy avoiding me. —Gale.
For some reason, I had a feeling he was laughing at me.
“Sir?”
I looked up from my phone to find both staring down at me, confused. I simply showed them the string of text messages between us. “I do think she likes me.”
“Or she could be annoyed—”
“Forgive me. I am preoccupied at the moment.” I winked at him, grabbing a piece of toast and stuffing it into my mouth before lying back on the couch to text her back.
This was fine.
No, this was perfect.
I had spent so much time talking to Gale that I was clearly and completely late for the Etheus Women’s brunch to support women in technology. Truthfully, I hadn’t wanted to come at all. I was busy, but I came because my mother had called me, saying she was no longer going. Where she went instead, I had no idea. But her words from a few days ago were stuck in my mind. Yvonne wanted to erase my mom, and I wouldn’t let her. She was just as much a part of this company and my father’s legacy as Yvonne was.