Free Madness or Love (Be With Me Book 1) by Selina Bodur Page A

with the man sitting in that chair. She could
have been loved, but her heart had chosen otherwise. And no matter how crazy
and hopeless her love was, she was tired of fighting it.
    “I’m sorry,” she said simply.
    “Don’t be. I had fun tonight.” He paused. “May I ask
something?”
    She nodded again.
    “Who is he?”
    “Is it that obvious?” She sighed.
    “You’ve had a distant look in your eyes ever since you
took that phone call. You don’t have to be a genius.”
    “Thomas — ” she
started.
    “No, you don’t have to explain. But let me say this.
Whoever that person is, it seems to me he’s making you unhappy.” His face
beamed. “And you’re so beautiful when you smile.”
    Victoria blushed and wondered if she had lost her
mind. She had rejected him, and in return, he was giving her compliments.
    “Promise me you’ll do the best to be happy. I don’t
know why you’re sad. Maybe it’s because you try to fight the choice of your
heart instead of taking a leap. Or maybe you’re afraid to distance yourself and
move forward.” He took her hand. “Whatever your final decision is, know that
you can call me anytime, and I’ll be happy to help, listen, or . . .” He
trailed off and lowered his gaze.
    “Thank you,” was all she managed to say, and squeezed
his hand back. “I will.”
    They left the restaurant in silence and stood outside
for several minutes until the taxi came. He opened the door, and Victoria got
in.
    “Be safe!” he leaned forward and said.
    She tried to put on a friendly smile and then looked
away, fighting angry tears. The car took off, leaving a lonely man on the
sidewalk. She felt forlorn knowing she was going back to her empty apartment.
Victoria stared blankly at the life-filled streets on that beautiful Saturday
evening. Her mind wandered thoughtlessly. She searched for her purse, but
instead, her fingers found her phone. She sighed and turned it on. The seconds
passed by slowly, but finally the screen said 9 missed calls . She
briefly closed her eyes, fighting the need to call him back, and then made a
decision. Victoria pressed the messaging icon and started typing. She read the
words out loud: I hope you’re happy now. I’m going home alone. She
pressed send and turned the phone off again, dreading another
conversation with Ian.
    A single tear escaped her eye and rolled down,
staining her face. “Damn you, Ian,” she whispered to the darkness, and hoped
the mark Ian had engraved on her heart would heal one day. Someday.
     
    * * *
     
    On the other side of the Atlantic, 5500 kilometers
away, Ian sat on the floor of his New York apartment, staring blankly at the
pale-gray wall. The usual contents on the coffee table lay scattered beside him—a
few books, the mail, the New York Times, and his iPad. All were innocent
victims of Ian’s rage. A picture of him and Victoria, on the fireplace mantel,
caught his eye, and he stood up. They looked infinitely happy, and she had that
indescribable glow around her. They were laughing, and the vibe reverberated
through the room. Ian felt the hopelessness in his heart turn into anger. As
the minutes after she had hung up on him passed by, he could feel the joy
slipping out of his life. When did it all change? The emptiness crept up in his
soul. When did she become so important? Victoria was smiling back at his graved
face from the picture in his hands. He could feel the warmth, the love, and the
care that streamed from her bright green eyes.
    “When did you become a part of me?” he asked the
joyful image. The thought of the other man flashed through his mind and
rekindled his anger. Then fear took over rage. “Did I lose you?”
    His phone beeped somewhere buried under the scattered
mail on the floor. He was in no mood to talk but picked it up anyway. One
new message , said the display, and he opened it. From V , he read. I
hope you’re happy now. I’m going home alone. He blinked in disbelief and
then read it again. A