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Chapter 2 Home Coming

  • EMMA’s POV :
  • June 22nd 2016,
  • Dear Diary,
  • Today I’ve officially graduated high school.
  • Today I’m officially not Ian’s student anymore, in fact, I’m Ian’s fiancée now.
  • It’s so surreal to say those words. Ian’s fiancé. Future Mrs. Emma Hayes.
  • Oh, I’m so happy, diary. Call me crazy or whatever, but I know who my heart belongs to. He’s my soul mate. If I’m going to take this leap of faith with anyone, it’ll have to be with him.
  • So, I said yes, diary. I said heck yes.
  • Emma.
  • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
  • September 12th, 2016
  • Dear Diary,
  • I’m officially a college girl. College is intense, diary. I really hope I’m not falling behind. But thank God for my awesome roommate, Sophie. She’s the best. She’s so funny and sweet, I couldn’t ask for a better roommate. Her brother, Tristan, is also pretty cool. We all got along well and with their help, I feel like college will be manageable.
  • Meanwhile, Ian and I are doing okay. We’re doing long distance, so it’s kinda hard. I miss him everyday, I miss him a lot. Send him my love diary. Send him all my kisses and love.
  • Emma.
  • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
  • December 4th, 2016
  • Dear Diary,
  • I miss Ian so bad.
  • Long distance sucks. It’s so hard to get ahold of him now.
  • Am I being selfish that I want more time with him?
  • Am I being immature?
  • I just really miss him. What’s a girl gotta do?
  • Help me, diary.
  • Emma.
  • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
  • October 10th, 2017
  • Dear Diary,
  • Ian and I just had phone sex today! Oh my goodness, it was hot!
  • “Show me how you’re touching yourself,” he ordered.
  • I was nervous and my cheeks were flushed pink. I had never done anything like this before. It was weird, I could see everything. It was like masturbating in front of a mirror.
  • My hand shakily started rubbing against my clit. Despite my earlier reservations, my body relaxed and I started to feel good about it.
  • “That’s it. Does that feel good?” he urged me on.
  • “Mm-hm,” I nodded.
  • “Would it feel better if it was my hand?”
  • “Yeah,”
  • “Or my tongue,”
  • “Yeah,”
  • “Next week, it will be. But for now, close your eyes and imagine that it’s me,”
  • “Hmm…” I closed my eyes and let his voice dictate me.
  • “Imagine those were my fingers... Imagine my lips on your breasts... Imagine me sucking on your nipples…”
  • “Ah…” I couldn’t stop the moans from escaping my lips.
  • “Damn, you can make me cum just by looking at you,” he grunted.
  • His words were stirring something inside me. I arched my back and let my fingers slip through my folds. Two fingers pushed through my opening and into my wet, throbbing core.
  • “Go faster for me baby girl,”
  • “Yes, daddy,”
  • Following his command, my fingers slid in and out faster, and I angled it so that my fingertips would rub against the front wall of my pussy. Hot moans escaped my lips as I found my rhythm. I moved harder and deeper, and my thumb was still rubbing against my clit.
  • I opened my eyes and saw that Ian was moving with my speed. His breaths were ragged as he came closer to his climax. He didn’t break eye contact with me and I was seeing everything, how his hands moved up and down his length and how his rock-hard manhood was twitching with pre-cum.
  • The sensation was too much for me to handle. I felt the tension building in my body, pushing me towards my orgasm.
  • “Cum for me, baby girl,” he said through gritted teeth. “Cum for daddy,”
  • My fingers pressed against a particularly sensitive spot and my walls clamped around my fingers in response. I let out a muffled scream as I reached my climax and I came down hard. I came so damn much, I was practically squirting…
  • It was so intense!
  • Not as amazing as the real thing, but it was great that at least we could do this over the phone. Oh diary, I miss him! I love my daddy so much! I can’t help it!
  • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
  • January 15th, 2018
  • Dear Diary,
  • Diary, I’m so scared.
  • I feel like I’m losing Ian to this gallery. I know he’s happy and this is his dream, but I’m no longer an important part of his life. Plus, his friend Ally is seriously getting on my last nerve… I think she’s in love with him, diary, but he’s too blind to see it.
  • Oh diary, I hope he’s not gonna replace me with some building.
  • Emma.
  • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
  • April 7th, 2018
  • Dear Diary,
  • I’m confused. I need your advice.
  • There’s a program in Paris and I might be perfect for it. I’ve always wanted to travel abroad, so I really want this to happen. But on the other hand… what’s gonna happen to my relationship with Ian? I feel like it’s gonna drive us further and further away.
  • We’re barely hanging by a thread.
  • What should I do, diary?
  • Emma.
  • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
  • May 22nd, 2018
  • Dear Diary,
  • Ian and I are over.
  • Emma.
  • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
  • June 2nd, 2018
  • Dear Diary,
  • I’m leaving for Paris tomorrow.
  • I’ve said all the goodbyes I needed to say to everyone. I even wrote Ian a letter. Anyway, this is the end of our journey. Thank your for always listening to my stories.
  • Good bye, diary.
  • Emma.
  • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
  • There were still some blank pages left, but was the last diary entry I had. I must have stopped writing when I left for Paris. I didn’t bring this book with me. I left everything that reminded me of Ian behind because I wanted to start over.
  • Looking back at it now, it was crazy how everything unfolded in the end. He was my one great love. We had all these rules stacked up against us, we had different people came in and out of our lives, and time and space were stretched far between us – it was a love story doomed from the start. But together or not, our love for one another still existed, and would always exist. And I'm glad for even just that.
  • I shall cherish all the moments I've spent with him forever. The good, the bad, and everything in between. Our story will forever be alive in my heart. But everything inside this book was the past, and I today, I was all about the future.
  • My story was not over yet, not even close. Today was a start of something new. I was building a whole new life, moving into this new place we call home together with the love of my life. Our journey had a been crazy journey, but somehow we ended up here, together. And I couldn't be happier.
  • If six months ago someone said that I'll be moving in with my future husband today, I wouldn't have believed them. But here we are. We’re finally home.
  • “Hey, are you sure you wanna put the bookshelf in that room? I think it's too small,” I heard his voice and turned my head around instinctively.
  • The love of my life was standing at the door, bringing up another large box. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, all the heavy lifting made him sweaty. But even under all that sweat, he still looked absolutely delicious.
  • “What are you doing here on the floor?” he narrowed his eyes and took a seat next to me.
  • “Nothing, I was just reading…” I smiled and put the book away. My eyes caught sight of his bare toned chest and the new tattoo he just got.
  • Emma, the tattoo read.
  • “Hey, have you been crying?” he asked, tilting my chin up to him so he could study my face.
  • “It’s happy tears,” I shook my head quickly, “I’m so happy we’re here, in our home,”
  • He smiled and leaned his forehead down to mine. For a while there, we were just smiling at each other like a bunch of love-struck teenagers. Love-struck, maybe, but I wasn’t a teenager anymore. I was twenty-two and I was moving in to my first apartment with my boyfriend. Oh, sorry, fiancée.
  • “What were you reading?” he asked when he noticed the pink book lying facedown on the floor.
  • “A love story,” I said simply.
  • “A love story? Is it about us?”
  • “Some parts of it, yeah,”
  • “And what does it say? Can I read it?” he tried to reach for the book, but I quickly grabbed it and hid it behind my back.
  • “No, not yet,” I shook my head.
  • “Why not?”
  • “Because… our story is still being written,”
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  • - - - - - To Be Continued. - - - - -