*Hey, hi, hello, guys! It's that time of year again! I do my best to try to give you all a gift around my birthday because you all are amazing and have made me feel blessed (even when it seems like I disappear for months at a time). I was going through some major life transitions, and while I am sorry for the delays, I had to take time to myself. I'm in a much better place now, and I plan to interact more with you all– regularly– again.

I'm turning 27 on Aug 26, and I am very happy to be alive and to be able to share my stories with readers who are kind enough to share their time with me. So really, I don't just feel blessed... I am blessed, and I wish you all the best!

Please, forgive the short nature of any chapter. These are drafts, and I plan on publishing this series, along with other stories, in the future. The quality of the writing and details will be enhanced!

I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Fade has been a long process for me to finish as I as going through waves of depression, but I do want to finish this book before the year ends. I don't see how I can't, when there are two chapters left :) *

Chapter 18: Sunsets

The orange star finally disappeared behind the horizon, and the darkened sky lit up the city. I'd never been in Ezra's office this late before. It was lovely, seeing the concrete jungle sparkle from the thirty-third floor. I was happier this time around. I didn't feel so alone. I couldn't say that I couldn't believe what happened. It was inevitable that I would want Ezra again. It was always just a matter of when. I knew it as soon as I saw him, after he disappeared.

I was sitting on the Corinthian leather couch, lounging and enjoying some candy I had stashed in my purse. Little did Ezra know that I wasn't simply indulging my sweet tooth; I needed to restore some energy after all we just did.

Ezra's soft voice cut through the silence. "Ada, I want you to understand... that I hear you."

I tore my focus from the pink Starburst wrapper that was halfway off my candy. "Huh?"

Ezra's eyes narrowed as he grinned, and he laughed to himself while fastening the buttons to his shirt.

Damn...

Watching him get dressed never made me upset. Not only did it mean that I got to see him naked but that we likely had a good time. Glancing behind him, before taking a look at the floor, I could say that the explosion of papers, folders, and stationery were more indicative of one hell of a time.

"I hear you." He repeated.

"Oh my God, am I smacking?!" I gasped, before throwing the pink candy in my mouth and shielding it with my hand.

Ezra's smile grew. He took a few strides to approach me on the couch. I was sitting cross-legged until he took hold of my hands and pulled up. To my surprise, he placed a peck on my lips.

I giggled like an idiot, covering my mouth again-- this time to hide a different kind of embarrassment.

He brushed my hand from my face."I said... I hear you."

I turned my head away, due to Starburst breath, "Ezra. While I do take pride in my wits, sometimes I'm as dumb as a brick. What doth thou sayeth?"

"When you told me to take control back. To take back what was mine," he confirmed.

A sly grin crept on my face, and I fanned myself with the Starburst wrapper.

"You dirty girl. While that is also true, I was actually talking about Leone Investments."

I squeaked once, and Ezra nodded. I squeaked again and he confirmed, "I'm not scared anymore."

*

Though Ezra said he wasn't scared, he told me that he didn't want to go home. I couldn't blame him. I didn't want to be alone either. I felt nervous as soon as we walked into the apartment. We were quiet, and I often glanced at his face to detect any levels of disapproval. To my surprise, I never caught any. Luckily, Faith wasn't home so I didn't have to go through any awkward re-introductions.

As we entered into my little bedroom, Ezra removed his jacket and politely asked if he could sit on the bed. I scoffed and told him not to be such a guest. I really needed him to cut that out. His etiquette made me nervous.

However, my desire for him to feel at home came true, thanks to my kitty cat crawling from underneath the bed and making her début. Ezra pet Cinna Buns who was curled on his lap. It was sweet to see the both of them together again.

I grabbed a hanger and hung his jacket, "Okay, so you never say again that you don't like cats."

"Eh," Ezra shrugged.

I lifted a brow, "Admit it! You like the pu--"

"-- love--" he interjected with a sly grin.

"-- the puh."

"The 'puh'?" Ezra chuckled.

"Yeah! The puh... see?" I ended pointing at purring Cinna Buns.

He let out a hearty laugh."Your jokes, Ada. They become more and more esoteric."

"And you love them!" I screeched, twirling around.

"I do," he nodded.

I stopped revolving and took in a deep breath. The moment was mine to absorb. For a few seconds I had to admire the fact that Ezra was sitting in my room. Calm, reserved, quiet. He looked... okay. His attention drifted often, but that aura of despair didn't emanate.

My voice was low. "Do you like my new space?"

"I love it," he answered with a soft smile.

In disbelief, I twisted my nose, "It's nothing like the old space."

"Yes. It's better," he confirmed. "Because it's yours."

Ezra looked around, admiring the way I characterized my room with struggling fairy lights and a few fake plants here and there. Above a small bookshelf was a small painting of a flower I did when I was five, and above my bed was another painting that my mother did.

Reds, yellows, and blues were struck across the canvas. The presentation was aggressive; it was unlike any other work I had seen birthed by her hand. Abstract, unformulated, and busy in nature, she composed this piece shortly after her diagnosis. However, as time passed, my original interpretation of the name no longer held true.

I remember how she tilted her head and squinted at the dry canvas. She sat in silence, I sat in devastation. The next time she opened her mouth, she said one word. I cried, but she smiled. She said, "Fade".

And now I know why you smiled.

"Ada," Ezra called.

My eyes fluttered, and I returned to the present.

"How is your mother?"

"How did you know I was thinking about her?" I smiled.

He turned his head back and saw the piece mounted on the wall. "Did she paint this?"

"Mhm," I answered, proudly.

"Masterful work," he muttered, his eyes wide from admiration.

"I thought you were more of a minimalist."

"So did I... but things have changed."

"How so?"

"I don't deny the face of change anymore," he confessed.

His attention returned to me. Ezra took a deep breath and put Cinna Buns beside him. Sleepy, she stretched but cuddled beside his thigh.

Suddenly, his voice was riddled with uneasiness, "Ada, may I share something with you?"

"Of course."

He paused for a moment before he confessed, "It's something I've never shared with anyone else... ever."

I didn't open my mouth this time, but I did nod. Ezra reached into his back pocket. I could see him take a deep breath– holding it. Then, he let out his breath and pulled out his black wallet. After carefully unfolding it, he slipped his fingers into a slot and pulled out a small piece of paper. The edges appeared frayed and the paper a little aged and creamy in color.

I stood beside him, and he didn't flinch. His concentration fixed. Ezra looked lost, and I finally sat down to see what he saw.

Instantly, my eyes opened as wide as they could. There was a beautiful face that had smiled into a lens of the past. The paper was worn over time, but the subject's radiance could overpowered time. The image framed a being from the shoulders up. Within the frayed borders, a green-eyed woman shyly smiled. Her head was slightly turned away from the photographer, but it was clear she didn't want to hide. Her tawny hair flowed down her shoulders and over her lapel collar to an Acadia green dress. She was beautiful. She was familiar.

"She's my mother," Ezra whispered. "When I left to France, I didn't leave only to escape having lost you... but also to find her. But when I left this country, I was met with defeat two times over. Since, I had the power to... I have tried to find my birth mother. Yet, in the end, this is all I am left with.

Sometimes when I sleep, I try to imagine back as far as I can into the past. To when I was a baby. I always hope to find a memory of her face. I was successful one time. I saw her looking down at me, smiling at me, petting my hair and my cheek. It was not a memory but a dream."

My eyes were glassy. Every crack in his voice cut my heart a little at a time.

"That dream... the only dream I've ever had of her... it came to me on the same day I first met you."