My Sweet Valentine by Dairenna VonRavenstone (the reading list TXT) 📕

“Youcan’t make it back, can you?” Amber asked before he couldspeak.

Thedisappointment must have been clear in her voice since Greg heavedanother sigh. Amber imagined him running his hand over his thickdark hair.

“Wellit’s not looking good,” Greg affirmed softly.

“Oh,”Amber stated.

She was notdisappointed in him, it was not his fault that he worked hard andbecame the head of his department. It was not his fault that he hadto travel to other headquarters to attend meetings every twomonths. She did miss him though.

“IfHenderson agrees to the terms of the contract, I can finish up andbe there mid-day on the 14th. There might not be any specialsurprises thought, but we’d be together,” Greg explainedquickly.

“That’sall that matters,” Amber told him in a joyful voice.

“We canalways go back to the lake,” Greg suggested.

Amber wonderedwhen he would finally suggest that. It had been a few years sincethey had been back to the place where he proposed.

“Thatwould be perfect,” Amber agreed wholeheartedly.

“Good,I’ll call once I know for sure if I can make it back,” Greg toldher.

He wasecstatic, she could tell by his voice. Amber was sure he wasthinking of what he could do with such a short time frame.

“Allright, I’ll talk to you then,” Amber returned with a broad grin,knowing full well he could hear her smile in her voice.

“I loveyou,” Greg uttered.

“I loveyou too,” Amber said in reverence.

Exchanging thewords of dedication never lost their appeal to them. The wordsnever lost their meaning, or their spark. Amber always felt thefamiliar burst of emotion that made her warm all over when he saidthose words.

Dial tone cameover the line and with a sigh, Amber hung up the phone. She wasjust putting the phone in its cradle when the doorbell rang. With alittle gasp of surprise she began running to the door, wonderingwho would be visiting her without calling first. Her friends andfamily always knew to call as Greg might not be there or she mightbe at work. She did not have a set schedule at work but neither didGreg. Somehow this worked better for them than if they had a settime to leave and go to work.

She made it tothe door and peaked out the peep hole. No one was there. Amberunlocked the door and pulled it open to reveal her empty porch. Aburst of cold air refreshed her and she took a single stepoutside.

Somethingcrinkled under her foot and she looked down. She gaped at the dozenred roses she almost stepped on and swooped down to scope theflowers into her arms. She remained framed by the door as shepeered down the street to catch the delivery man before he ran off.She saw no one on the street and because her neighbours had beenkind enough to shovel her sidewalk and drive-way, there were nofootprints in the snow.

She frownedlightly and stepped back into the house, locking the door behindher before finally staring at the flowers again. A single whitecard marred the red and she blinked at it before pulling it freefrom the roses embrace. It read simply “To my sweet Valentine” inexquisite gold script.

Amber chuckledlightly as she made her way to the kitchen. It seemed like Greg wasall ready making sure this Valentine’s Day was one she would notforget. A chill came unbidden along her spine but she assumed itwas simply from the cold. Red roses only had one meaning after alland she should not be concerned about them appearing on her frontstep. Greg had been doing sweet little things for her since theyfirst met...

Valentine’sDay, 14 years prior:

Amber pulledher locker door open and glanced in the magnetic mirror she hadhung there. Her hair was misbehaving, frizzing out in alldirections and she wondered at her own sanity for getting it cutoff before school started. She had loved her almost knee lengthblond hair but her friends said that the nickname Rapunzel wouldnever leave her if she kept it so long. So she had conceited andchopped off close to two feet of hair.

She sighed andforced a large science textbook into her locker. She snatched themath textbook and shoved it into her all ready full backpack.Something crumpled and she hoped the worksheet, or notes wouldstill be in one piece when she made it to her next class. She neverthought high school would be so different then elementary school.Apparently a lot changed going from one year to the next.

Her backpackdecided to rebel, as most inanimate objects do at the worstpossible time. It slipped from the precarious position she hadplaced it in and she let out a little yelp as she scrambled to grabit before it tumbled to the floor. She almost whacked her head offthe metal locker and felt a nail break as she grasped the strap inone hand and prevented the fall.

She felt asthough she had just saved a child from a deadly plunge into somekind of abyss and breathed a sigh of relief. She brushed back acurled strand of hair with a grumble and flung her heavy load ontoone shoulder. The sound of the locker slamming shut was drowned outby the ruckus of students moving around her. With her locker nowlocked she turned and almost let out a shout of surprise.

Standing infront of her was the boy that had been stalking her since thebeginning of the year. He was of medium height and reed thin withgreasy looking brown hair that covered his forehead. His eyes werean interesting shade of brown and despite the smattering of pimpleson his face, he had good features. In his hand was a somewhatwilted red rose.

“Hi, Iwanted to give this to you,” he told her.

Amber blinkedat the offered flower with its deep red color and missing petalshere and there. She then remembered that it was Valentine’s Day andwondered why of all the boys in the school that her creepy stalkerhad to be the one to give her anything. She had hoped someone elsehad noticed her but it was to no avail. She didn’t think she hadbecome that unnoticeable without her long hair.

“Uh,thanks but that’s okay I really don’t have anywhere to put itanyway,” she muttered