Page 30 of Broken Bonds

Happiness. It’s the first thing that comes to mind, we all want to achieve happiness. And that’s been the root of all my problems.

A few months ago, I thought I was happy, but after meeting Lionel, I realized I was only settling. In reality, my life was not moving toward a goal. I was merely letting myself get carried away by the current.

With all that’s happened recently, it’s made me open my eyes. I shouldn’t trust placing my happiness in the hands of another person, but be the one capable to hold my happiness with my own two hands.

With or without Lionel.

I’m determined to be happy. Because I deserve it.

Because nothing is impossible.

And speaking of Lionel, is this a trick like all the ones that dazzled me before we got married?

Because one thing is for sure, the moment Lionel had my signature on the marriage certificate, the prince turned into a toad, and the problems began. The fantasy didn’t last past midnight.

There are so many reasons for me to be hesitant.

I trusted him blindly. I believed everything he told me in the past, the promises we made to each other.

I thought we were building a future for the two of us.

Now everything has collapsed, like the little pig’s straw house.

I can no longer close my eyes and get carried away, not even by him. I’m staying to fix this, but I’ve gotta do it knowing that it could vanish again.

So I gotta do something for myself.

“You’re very quiet.” He’s so close I can feel the warmth of his words, the warmth of his body through the layers of fabric separating us.

“If you expect me to sing to you, I should warn you that I’m one of the worst. I can’t hold a tune even if my life depended on it.”

“Would you like me to sing?” he whispers, his breath caressing my neck, giving me goose bumps.

Smiling, I turn around, gaining space between us.

“Don’t tell me you can sing.”

The smile vanished from his face before answering. “I don’t know if you know this, but I had a hard time talking. I mean, I could do it, but not without stuttering. Sometimes I still do.”

I look at him with my mouth open. Lionel confessing a weakness?

Another one of his many changes and it amazes me. The Lionel I met before would never admit to being anything less than perfect.

And it makes sense. Now I understand his silence before answering an important question.

“The therapist my parents hired suggested that I should practice singing. I’m not good at it, but I do it once in a while. What’s your favorite song?”

“You never told me that before,” I say.

“It’s not easy to admit our faults,” he confesses. “It’s easier for people to see you as the person that you’ve created, who you’ve become. So what is your favorite song?”

That makes me think for a moment. I have some on my playlist, ones that would fit this mood perfectly.

“I guess ‘Over the Rainbow,’” I say. “My father used to sing it to me to help me fall asleep when I was little girl. Then it became our ritual.”

A devilish smile is drawn on that mouth I’m dying to kiss.

“I could sing it to you in bed, after all, we are going to share it tonight…”

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