The Face from the Past
987 Words
Hannah’s POV
The water was chilly. It's much cooler than I anticipated. During our summer vacation, I recall giggling with my buddies while splashing in the river. I was still having trouble with my appearance, and I had just turned seventeen. I was always the quiet one, overweight, and timid. I was hardly noticed.
Until I slipped.
I laughed for a moment. My feet lost the riverbed the next time. I collapsed.
I felt panicked. My nose was full of water. I attempted to yell, kick, and thrash, but all I did was swallow more water. Nobody saw me flailing my arms. Around me, the noise subsided. There was silence. I was dragged down by the weight of the water.
Then—hands. Robust arms encircled my waist. I was hauled up, gasping for oxygen and wheezing.
I noticed him when I opened my eyes.
I had never seen a more handsome boy than him.
His damp black hair clung to his forehead, and his sharp, deep eyes stared directly into mine as if he knew me already. He remained silent. Simply carried me to the edge of the river, sat me down, and left.
I noticed a mole as he turned. On the right side of his back, there was one dark mole.
I never saw him again after that.
However, I never forgot him. Not even for a day.
After five years.
With coffee in hand, I was standing in front of the newsstand when I noticed a magazine cover that caught my attention. And there he was, winning "Business Elite: Young CEO of the Year." The same face.
Angular jaw. Eye piercing. That calm, unreadable face.
Wexler, Dennis.
The Wexler Group's heir.
I grabbed the magazine and blinked hard. With my heart beating, I said, "It's him."
I had put a lot of effort into changing who I was. I became more self-assured, shed the pounds, and put my fears to rest. But I was seventeen all over again in that instant. Breathless and soaked.
Is he the one?
I was saved by this child. I did not doubt it.
And now I had the opportunity to see him once more.
"I apologise, ma'am, but your name isn't on the list."
I smiled as best I could at the security guard. "Really? That's odd. Mr. Beckman extended the invitation to me. Would you please check again? "
Despite his unsure appearance, the man moved aside to make a phone call.
I slipped past the ropes and vanished into the crowd while he was preoccupied. My chest was thumping with my heart. This was careless. I didn't care, though. I needed to see him.
There were many people in the ballroom. Soft jazz, champagne flutes, and shimmering lights. To raise money for a charity that I didn't care about, the city's elite came together.
Then I caught sight of him.
Dennis Wexler, dressed in a sharp black suit, stood near the bar looking like he had just stepped off the cover of a magazine. He had no smile on his face. He blinked very little. He appeared to be bored.
Unsure of what to say, I approached him. But his eyes locked with mine before I could get to him.
He looked. I went cold.
He narrowed his eyes a little.
Then, he came over to me.
"You seem out of place here," he remarked, pausing a few inches away.
My throat became parched. "Perhaps I do not."
He c****d his head. "But you came anyhow."
I said, "I had to see something."
Or someone? He inquired.
His tone contained an unintelligible element.
"Perhaps," I said.
He looked at me once more. I briefly believed he was seeing right through me. However, he gave me a glass of champagne instead. "I detest these occurrences. Join me for a walk? "
With my heart beating frantically, I nodded.
We didn't communicate much. The noise subsided behind us as we simply strolled outdoors to the balcony. He inquired about my occupation and my origins. I replied, being careful not to get too personal.
He made contact with my hand. "You look familiar," he whispered.
I gasped. "Do I? "
He gave a nod. "I have no idea why."
I kept it from him. How was I able to?
It might have been fate. Perhaps we were destined to cross paths again. Perhaps this was my opportunity to make all the difference.
He moved in to kiss me, and I didn't fight him.
His lips were hungry, hard, and self-assured. My mind whirled.
One thing paved the way for another.
His penthouse was where we ended up. It was all a haze of desire and passion. His coat fell to the ground. Then came his tie. Next, his shirt.
I gave him a shoulder kiss. I ran my hand over his back.
I froze after that.
Nothing.
Not a mole.
My gut twisted as I blinked. I took my time checking again.
Nothing has changed.
My abrupt stillness caught his attention. Is there a problem? "
I made an effort to grin. "No. Nothing.
Everything inside, however, screamed.
He wasn't the one.
The wrong man had just slept with me.
My hands were shaking. Now my heart thumped for another reason. What had I done?
He put his hand on my cheek. "At this moment, you are somewhere else."
When I looked into his eyes, I noticed that they had changed from five years earlier.
I was unable to inform him. Not right now.
Pretending nothing had changed, I closed my eyes. I said, "I'm here." "I agree with you."
However, I wasn't. Not at all.
No more.
My breath hitched as I stared at his bare back. No mole. Not him. My skin went cold as he leaned closer and whispered against my ear—
“I know what you’re looking for… and it isn’t me.”
- Writer
