Free Forgotten Love (Derrien Island Trilogy) by Simmone Thorpe

This was a hard trade off in her attempt to reconnect with who felt she really was inside. Completely exhausted, she leaned against the window, and within minutes fell asleep into the land of dreams.
     

July 13 th , Eight months earlier
    Exhausted, frustrated and dirty were all words Natasha us ed to describe herself as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror in her bathroom.  It was a far cry from the image that she had imagined for herself and the reflection looking back at her felt like she was somehow having a kind of out of body experience.
    As much as she loved art, t eaching it part-time to preschoolers was not what she had envisioned at all.  However, it was the next best thing to do to keep her occupied during the day and to keep her parents off her back. Sometimes she swore they forgot that she wasn’t a child anymore.
    Sure she still painted on weekends but somehow every time she allowed herself to feel that she could do that full-time, a little voice always reminded her that she’d already missed her chance. So her art pieces were only seen by her and sometimes Marcus before they were stowed away in the storage room.
    Usually , teaching her class of twenty-eight four to five year olds was mildly fun but today it was like a nightmare.
    The Marsha ll twins were at it again today. First, they spilled paint all over her desk when she was helping some other students in the class and from then it was a litany of complaints about stolen lunch and someone hitting someone else to her ripping a part of her skirt on a piece of wire jutting out from the storage cupboard. Then the parent teachers conference after school was heart-wrenching to say the least for her after she had to sit and listen to one particular parent complain about what they considered her, ‘ ineffective teaching’ .
    Natasha, trying to force the images from her mind splashed water onto her face and pinched her cheeks before drying off her face on the nearby face towel.  Thankfully, the day had come to an end and she was finally at home. Feeling relieved that it was all somehow over at least until tomorrow. At times like these, when she desperately needed cheering up, a song that she loved often came to mind. Looking over her shoulder in the mirror to make sure that the door was closed and feeling satisfied that Marcus was not home as yet she decided to sing.
    “ It’s gonna be, it’s gonna be, a lovely day ! There’s love and joy coming my way ...”
    Her rich voice filled the room , and as she sang she began to feel alive again, and felt a sense of joy returning to her. Spying her hairbrush on the counter, she picked it up and held it to her lips as she moved her hips to the beat in her mind and closed her eyes as she became totally enveloped in the song. As she did so her happiness was bittersweet, because like her art, having a career in singing was the biggest dream that she had given up any hope of coming true. A lone tear escaped her right eye and she suddenly sensed a presence behind her. She did not need to open her eyes to know who stood behind her, because she recognized the warm, woodsy aroma of the man she had fallen in love with and married, Marcus Nicholls.
    “I always love to hear you sing . Your voice is so beautiful honey!” he whispered softly now that she’d caught him.
    As she opened her eyes she saw him leaning against the bathroom door, devastatingly handsome as ever in a black jeans and off-white short-sleeved shirt that exposed the lean toned muscles in his arms as he crossed them over his chest, watching her with clear admiration in his eyes.
    Clearing her throat , Natasha fidgeted with the top button on her blouse.
    “I didn’ t hear you come in!” she said.
    “I knocked twice but I figured you were too into your song to hear me, so I decided to enjoy the show,” he said.
    “ Perhaps!” replied Natasha withdrawing instinctively into the shell of protection she kept around her heart. She did not like Marcus