IT STARTS ON A BRIDGE

Chapter-5

CHAPTER-5

Sarah’s point of view

I woke up the next morning, feeling the soft sheets beneath me as I slowly emerged from my slumber. My body yearned for a stretch, so I extended my arms above my head, savoring the satisfying sensation that accompanied the movement. As the hazy remnants of sleep dissipated, my mind eagerly grasped at the memories of the previous day, realizing how eventful and exhausting it had been. The day had been filled with unexpected drama, and to add to that, I had indulged in a bit of alcohol, which inevitably led to my swift descent into a deep and uninterrupted sleep. The weariness from the day's activities, particularly the arduous cleaning tasks, had left me drained. Perhaps it was due to my inherent lack of enthusiasm for household chores, as cleaning had never been a fondness of mine.

My head throbbed mercilessly, causing me to grimace in discomfort. The pain extended beyond my skull, permeating throughout my entire body. It was evident that the previous day's exertions had taken a toll on me. It was already past seven in the morning, and with only an hour remaining before my university classes commenced, I hurriedly made my way to the bathroom, seeking solace in the warmth of a revitalizing shower. The moment the soothing water cascaded over my body, a wave of relief washed away the nagging pain that had plagued me, a physical manifestation of fatigue.

After luxuriating in the shower for a rejuvenating twenty minutes, I emerged from the bathroom, readying myself for the day ahead. As I stood before the mirror, attentively taming my unruly hair, a peculiar sight greeted my reflection. I witnessed the image of a girl, a complete stranger, staring back at me with an enigmatic expression. The sight sent shivers down my spine, invoking a tremor of fear that coursed through my being. How could there be an image of someone else in the mirror when I was alone in the room?

However, in the blink of an eye, the mysterious apparition vanished, leaving only my own reflection in the mirror. I attempted to rationalize the experience, dismissing it as a mere hallucination borne out of exhaustion and a restless mind. Convinced that my imagination had played tricks on me, I brushed aside the disconcerting incident and hastened downstairs.

As I descended into the kitchen, I found my beloved grandmother serenely seated at the dining table, engrossed in reading the morning newspaper. With her caring eyes fixed upon me, she exuded an air of concern and affection. It warmed my heart, and I reciprocated her gaze with a smile. Much to my delight, she had already prepared my breakfast, waiting for my arrival.

"Ah, you're here. Sit down and have some breakfast, my dear. It's important not to start the day on an empty stomach. It's not good for your health," she advised me lovingly, her voice brimming with gentle wisdom. I had always relished her cooking, and the thoughtfulness behind her actions further highlighted her unwavering care for me. I nodded appreciatively, settling into the chair beside her. She served me a scrumptious meal, and I began to savor each bite.

As I indulged in the morning nourishment, my grandmother's keen observation did not escape her. She glanced at me with a perceptive gaze and abruptly inquired, "Are you okay, my dear? You seem tense." Caught off guard, I paused momentarily, contemplating whether to share my concerns or maintain my privacy. The depth of our connection, however, dissipated any reservations, as I realized she possessed an uncanny ability to discern my state of mind. Without delving into specifics, I simply nodded, silently appreciating her unspoken respect for my boundaries.

With breakfast concluded, I embarked on my journey to college. Upon entering the premises, I was greeted by the warm embrace of my two dear friends, Chris and Kenna, who eagerly enveloped me in their affectionate hugs. Their synchronized greeting brought forth a chuckle from all of us, releasing any residual tension from the morning.

"Hey, Sarah!" they chimed in unison, their laughter intertwining with mine.

Returning their gestures with a smile and a gentle hug, I reciprocated the warmth. Chris appeared engrossed in his phone, while Kenna and I engaged in our customary banter, discussing various topics as we made our way towards our classes. Time seemed to pass swiftly, and before long, it was time to part ways temporarily.

However, I noticed Chris lingering in the same spot, his attention still captivated by his mobile device. Seizing the opportunity to playfully tease him, I playfully smacked his arm, prompting him to furrow his brows and fixate an irritated gaze upon me.

"Hey... Why are you always so glued to your phone?" I queried, my brows knitting together as I crossed my arms, awaiting his response.

Unperturbed by my antics, Chris retorted, "And why are you always so violent?" Although he feigned annoyance, the glimmer in his eyes betrayed his amusement.

Amused by his retort, I continued, "Because...?"

Before I could delve further into our friendly banter, Kenna intervened, her voice cutting through the conversation, "No more excuses! Sarah, I have so many things to share with you. Come with me."

Before I could respond or halt her enthusiastic pull on my wrists, Kenna whisked me away, leaving Chris standing there with a perplexed expression. Though I yearned to hear his explanation, Kenna's urgency overshadowed my curiosity as we headed towards our shared destination, our laughter resonating through the hallways.

"Did you see him?" Kenna asked me eagerly as we traversed the familiar path.

"Saw whom?" I inquired, genuinely unaware of the subject of her excitement.

"'Mr. Wonderful'," she answered, her eyes shimmering with a mix of mischief and admiration.

Curiosity piqued, I rolled my eyes playfully, anticipating her to divulge more. "And who might this 'Mr. Wonderful' be?" I queried, teasingly drawing out her half-told tale. Kenna's infatuation with boys was no secret, contrasting my own indifference towards such matters. My focus remained firmly fixed on my studies and personal growth, leaving little room for distractions.

"You don't know him?" Kenna exclaimed, widening her eyes as if she had witnessed a supernatural phenomenon.

"Well, if I did, I wouldn't have asked you, now would I?" I responded with a playful smirk, aware of her penchant for sensationalism. Kenna's tales often carried a hint of exaggeration.

Without missing a beat, she began to unravel the mystery. "His name is Garry Ashton. He comes from an affluent family, owners of a renowned chain of hotels across the globe. Not only is he incredibly handsome, but he also possesses great wealth. He's somewhat of a playboy, never dating a girl for more than a week. And guess what? He recently enrolled in our college."

As Kenna painted a vivid picture of this enigmatic character, my disposition turned sour. "Oh, I'm not particularly fond of those types of individuals. They tend to stir up chaos and disrupt everyone's peace. Rude, lazy, and arrogant are words that come to mind. I'd much rather maintain my distance and complete my two years at college peacefully, devoid of unnecessary drama. Anyways, my class is about to start. See you at lunch, Kenna. Bye."

With a swift parting, I left Kenna behind and entered my classroom. Taking my seat, I found myself with a few spare minutes before the lecture commenced. However, the corridor outside the classroom was abuzz with chatter and laughter, predominantly originating from a group of exuberant girls. Determined to maintain focus, I ignored the commotion and immersed myself in the pages of my textbook, diligently revising the material covered in the previous class.

In the midst of my concentration, the door swung open, announcing the arrival of an individual who commanded the immediate attention of the room. Clad in a red t-shirt and black jeans, he exuded an aura reminiscent of Greek mythology, his towering height of six feet two inches accentuating his well-defined physique. With piercing blue eyes and chocolate brown hair, his countenance possessed an unmistakable allure that seemed to captivate the collective attention of every female present. Earphones in place, I paid no heed to the spectacle unfolding around me, cherishing the solitude I had grown accustomed to outside the realm of Chris and Kenna.

Yet, to my surprise, this enigmatic figure made his way to the empty seat beside me. Initially dismissing his presence, I continued to immerse myself in my studies, seemingly impervious to the excitement he elicited among my peers. However, as the lecture progressed, an unnerving sensation enveloped me, a prickling awareness of his gaze fixed upon me. Resolute in maintaining my focus, I brushed off the feeling and redirected my attention to the lecturer's words.

After the lecture concluded, I gathered my belongings, ready to depart swiftly. However, my path was abruptly halted as he grasped my hand firmly, preventing me from continuing.

"Leave my hand," I stated assertively, my voice commanding an immediate release. However, he defied my request, tightening his grip.

With an air of arrogance, he declared, "From now on, you are my girlfriend."

Initially perceiving his words as a jest, I expected to share a laugh at his audacity. Yet, his unwavering gaze, filled with intensity, indicated his sincerity. The realization struck me—how could he propose or rather command me in such a manner? We were practically strangers, with no connection or knowledge of each other's lives.

"I don't know you. Please release my hand. I'm sorry, but I'm not interested," I responded casually, my intention to spare his feelings evident in my tone.

In response, his anger flared, his fuming expression betraying his sense of entitlement. Displeased by his demeanor, I mirrored his arrogance in my own retort.

"No, I don't know you, and why should I? I rejected you because I have no interest in a jerk like you," I asserted boldly, my words delivered with a hint of disdain. Disentangling my hand from his grip, I prepared to leave the situation behind.

Yet, before I could make my escape, he uttered a single sentence that halted me in my tracks.

"I am Garry Ashton, and you cannot reject me."

Frozen by his revelation, I pivoted my gaze towards him, only to be met with a devilish smirk that seemed to speak volumes.