When Promises Die

Chapter 1

Does love need to hurt this bad? I was so full of myself, thinking that maybe he regretted hurting me, that maybe he’d beg for forgiveness. But in the end, it was me who ended up being a fool again.

"Lara!" Claire's voice rang through my condo door.

I was sipping on a glass of whiskey, trying to ease the pain from the encounter earlier. I had left the gallery without a word; that's why Claire was here now, to reprimand my sudden action.

"Lara, why did you do that? Are you mad?" Claire burst through the door angrily.

I looked up at her and smiled sadly. "Maybe I was," I said melancholically and took another sip.

She looked at me, then at the glass of whiskey, and suddenly took it from my hand, drinking it herself.

"So, what the hell happened to you?" she asked, scanning my puffy eyes and disheveled appearance.

"The last person I met tonight was someone I used to know," I said lazily and softly slammed my forehead onto the table.

I imagined she was making a weird expression, probably thinking, "So what?!" I chuckled at the thought.

I looked at her and sighed. "It's the one I can't get over." Her eyes widened at my sudden confession, and she closed them, touching her temple as if she was getting a headache.

"Is he asking you back?" she asked in a serious tone, which caught me off guard.

I looked at her dead serious face and laughed. "Oh, how I wish that was the case..." I said, still trying my best not to burst out. "Then, I could have just rejected him," I uttered blankly.

Would I really reject him? I didn't know for sure. I never knew that this heart of mine could only take one man. He could have asked for forgiveness, and I would have forgiven him in a heartbeat. Yet, to think that he couldn't even remember who I am. Maybe I was that worthless piece of memory that could be easily forgotten, and maybe what we had was something he wouldn't want to remember.

I scanned my eyes across the living room, and something caught my attention, reminding me of how I first met him.

***

Four corner walls, loud voices, and the strict voice of a teacher trying to calm the students. The school sports festival was coming up, so our homeroom teacher was listing the students who would participate in each sport category. The boys were loud, and so were the girls, shouting names of who was fit for each category, and I just sat there silently, observing them.

"Now for chess, who wants to participate?" Miss Devon asked eagerly, and the room fell silent.

My classmates looked at each other, trying to figure out if someone wanted to do it. That's when I accidentally looked at my friend Kate. She looked at me as if she remembered I could play chess and was about to raise her hand and point to me when I glared sharply at her, telling her to zip her mouth. She pouted cutely and shrugged.

I was about to heave a sigh when my seatmate suddenly shouted, "It's Elara, Miss! She can play!" Josh shouted cheerfully. My eyes widened with shock, and all eyes were now on me. Even Miss Devon seemed so happy. They were looking at me as if expecting me to participate and win, and I just couldn't say no.

"I guess I could," I blankly uttered and sighed.

My classmates cheered, and Miss Devon clapped her hands with glee. "There are other representatives from other sections and grade levels practicing in the library. You can go there to practice with them or probably observe how they play," she said suggestively, and I just sighed heavily.

After the meeting, I went to the library alone. My friends had their own sports to think of, so here I was, still hesitating whether to enter the library or not. I was about to step back and leave when I bumped into someone, causing their things to fall and roll across the floor.

I immediately kneeled and hurriedly picked up the chess pieces that had fallen.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you," I said apologetically, without looking at the person as I frantically picked up the last piece.

"It's okay, I was on my phone, so I wasn't really looking either," he said with a gentle voice. "I'm sorry," he sincerely said and smiled.

A sunshine, that was my first impression of him. He was kind and someone who smiled easily. He held out his hand to help me get up. I awkwardly took it, and I was about to say I was leaving when he didn't let go of my hand. I looked at him with a questioning gaze, and he smiled brightly, his twin dimples showing.

"You play chess, right?" he asked like a kid who had finally found his playmate. I nodded hesitantly, and his eyes brightened with amusement. He softly pulled me inside the library.

"Let's play! I'll gladly be your opponent," he said with a boyish grin.

I don't know what sort of magic he had that I couldn't say no. That's probably how it started. The game between him and me. I risked knowing fully well I was playing a losing game. I risked and hoped that our chances could eventually come. I risked and now I ended up alone, broken.

***

I took my eyes off the chessboard on the table. Even now, our past was still vivid in my memory. I wanted to let go of it now.

"Claire, that chessboard, will you take it with you?" I asked her pleadingly. She looked at me in the eyes and sighed.

"Why don't you just throw it away? He gifted it to you, right?" she said, as if telling me I was still far from letting him go. She was right; even now, I couldn't bring myself to throw it away. There were still lingering feelings left behind.

"Think about it, okay? I'm leaving. I have so much work to do, thanks to you walking out!" she said with a hint of sarcasm.

"I love you," I shouted, and she just made a "that's so disgusting" expression. I laughed at her and waved goodbye.

"Now what should I do with the chessboard?" I thought to myself and decided that I should just give it to my new neighbor. I bet he'll be weirded out, but he started it first when he gifted me a bunch of paintbrushes when he first moved in, saying his daughter used to paint, so he bought them and didn't get to give them to her. I really thought he was a strange person, but at the same time, I found him pitiful.

I was about to ring the intercom when I noticed that the door was slightly ajar. I held the doorknob and slowly opened it as I went inside. The room was in a mess. I was sweating bullets, thinking that someone had probably barged inside, and I didn't bring my phone to call for help. I heard voices coming from the dining area, and I slowly peeked at what was happening.

Mr. Cooper was lying on the floor, beaten, while three armed men surrounded him.

"Are you finally going to speak?" a familiar, chilling voice said, giving me goosebumps.

He was sitting on the couch like a king ready to execute a man. Even though I could only see his back, I knew for sure who that man was. And my eyes refused to believe it.

"I know it isn't a great place to meet again..." he said with a bit of amusement in his voice. My heart beat erratically, and my system started to panic. He had noticed me; I was caught.

"Fancy seeing you here, Miss Meyers," he said as he smirked. Our gazes locked. "You do realize I'm holding a gun, right?" he said playfully, but I still looked at him, unnerved.

"You... you're not the Lucian I used to know," I finally said, my voice laced with regret.

His playful aura faded, now it was cold, chilling, and domineering. A dangerous air began to flow.

He stepped closer to me and held my chin. "You're right... Now, the one in front of you is just a demon," he dangerously whispered, and before I could move, I felt a pang on my neck and my mind went black.