CHAPTER ONE

                    My messy brown hair covers my face. I woke up as usual with the feel of his touch on my cheek. But he's nowhere to see, hear and feel. I close my eyes again to feel his touch. I begin to pray inward to feel his familiar touch again. But nothing came. It happens only when I get late to wake up. It seems to me his hand caresses my cheek. When I open my eyes, it's only me. It makes me feel uncertain. 

      My throat feels choked. He hated to see tears in my eyes. I tried my best to hold my tears back at his funeral. But I couldn't help when it was coming itself. Pain is still buried inside me. 

      Every night, I promise myself not to keep him in my thoughts. But I break my promise every day. My life has stopped moving. 

      I advance my hand and grip the photo frame. His smiling face comes into view. His dark locks were covering his forehead, he was wearing his favourite black leather jacket in this picture. His face was oval, clean shave, dark blue mesmerizing eyes, strong jawline. He was the most handsome boy in college. Every girl wanted to be with him. But he chose to be mine.

     I smile, looking down at his smiling face in the picture. His one arm was wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me back to his chest. After this click, he took me in a tight hug. 

     That was our last hug. My eyes turn glassy. I miss him like hell. I saw his dead body that day. I inhale deeply. 

      I draw myself out of the bed. I drift my feet toward the glass wall. I press the button and the curtains begin to remove. 

     I smile as I promised him to smile with every ray of the sun. I close my eyes, recalling his smiling face. I hope to spend my entire life with him. He was an orphan. A good couple adopted him when he was ten. They and I were his family. He always talked about his brother. I never got the opportunity to meet him. 

      I try to blank my expression, push the pain away but it is impossible when the pain continues to slice. Things are getting worse every day. I'm not talking about money. 

     "It seems like a lovely day," I speak to myself. But I wanna speak these words to him, want his naughty retort and laugh like hell. 

      I can't bring him back when he's so far away. I look at the sky where he's supposed to go. 

     My stomach grumbles, breaking the chain of my thoughts. I wanted to be crazy with no boundaries with him. It shattered with his death. I frown looking at my stomach. 

      I need to shower first. I head to the washroom and kick the door close behind me. 

      It has been three years. Louis died. My business is ruined. Indeed, I couldn't concentrate on anything after his death. It took me a year to accept his death. 

      My father insists that I should go out with my friends and choose someone for the wedding. I'm not interested in marrying anyone. I loved, once. I can't do it again. I have told every guy my father has sent to meet me that I love someone. They left me without a word. I'm going to do it again. I belong to Louis, though he doesn't exist in this world. 

          Love never dies! 

       I look at myself in the mirror. My ivory long dress with pink flowers printed on it, going with my curves. I spend my days as I used to spend when he was part of my life. He still is, but I can't see him, feel him, talk to him, hear him. He's the brightest star in the sky. 

      I brush my straight long brown hair and look at my eyes. He likes my eyes the most. But I don't find anything special in my light woody brown eyes. I grab the lipstick and put on some pale nude color. A little mascara later. I don't look again at my reflection. 

     Sauntering away from the mirror, I grab my purse from the glass table. 

       It's just a date. I'll get rid of him soon. 

     I head to the door. My heel is clicking against the marble floor. The guards got a sign and the door opened before I could reach the door handle. 

      "Good morning, Ma'am," John says. There's no smile on his face. He's six and a half feet tall, with broad shoulders with a giant look. But he never scares me. 

      "Good morning, John," I say and step into the elevator. I stare at the grey metal walls without thinking anything. John and two more guards walk in and John presses the button. 

      Yes! I have an elevator in my father's mansion. 

      I have no special friend to hang out with on weekends. 

      "Ma'am," I blink my eyes, hearing John's loud but calm voice. I look at him, "This way, ma'am." He says. 

      I nod and hurry out of the elevator. Another guard opens the door of the black Mercedes at my sight. I don't know everyone's name. I didn't notice. But there aren't as many guards as there used to be. 

      "Thank you," I say and get in the back seat of the car. 

      I wait for the driver to board in. John walks toward the car and holds out a paper bag. It's his daily routine. He's not just my bodyguard, appointed by my father but also takes care of my needs like an elder brother. 

      I have made his life hell at least for a year. I was expecting him to leave his job like other guards, but he is stubborn. 

      I keep it aside and look out of the window as the car begins to move.