Copyright of adelinewu2207

No part in this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by an means (electronically, mechanically, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution.

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Author's Note:

Hi, this is my first book and I honestly have no idea what the hell I'm doing. I don't even know whether I really do need to even put the copyright stuff, because well, I don't think many people would read this story, much less copy it, LOL.

Anyway, this is a sweet romance story, so there's no sex (if any of you are wondering) and no foul language as well. I'm in no way a saint (Haha), but I just felt like this is how I should start out with my first ever novel. And boy, is it hard (no pun intended) to not include sex scenes because I know that's an attention grabber (I know, trust me). But I think it's a good challenge. 

A warning though, the first chapter might seem uneventful, but it's because I wanted to slowly bring readers into the story and not just 'bam', two people are kissing wildly and they can't get enough of each other (not that all books start out like this LOL but you get me). 

So I really hope you guys can give my book a chance. It's not a long one really, I don't even know if it can be considered a novel because of the length. But anyway, enough of my blabbering (I'm just nervous), and please enjoy.

P.S. Feel free to leave a comment and some pointers so I can improve! xoxo

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Blood splashes across my vision and I gasp in terror. 

I blink a few times and it disappears, but my heart is already in my throat from the frighteningly realistic sight.

I squint at the documents before me, the numbers and alphabets staring right back but my focus dwindles, my brain refusing to make sense of all the information.

So, I drop the ledger down on my desk and recline against my chair, sighing heavily into the dimly lit office at the back of Jones' diner.

No matter how many documents I sieved through today, that deep, heart-wrenching ache still lingered in my chest. 

But once my mind isn't occupied with work any longer, thoughts rush in like a tidal wave.

Right now, the pain is so palpable that I shudder through it, struggling to draw air into my lungs from the phantom pain.

Because today is the death anniversary of my unborn child.

Three years isn't enough for the pain to fade away. 

I don't blame anyone but myself, and it's taking a toll on me.

Only my family and best friend know about my miscarriage. But without my grandmother, I went through the agony of losing a child very much alone.

My late grandmother always said I have a snarky personality and a sharp tongue that could cut men in half.

Now, there's just the shadow of it left, but I try my best.

I really do.

Tears prick behind at my eyes, but I manage to hold them back, because tears are useless and I'm tired of crying.

This year is all about changes.

That's why I made the difficult decision to sell off the diner, so I can be free.

And I'd like to finalize the transfer of the diner with my buyer, which I would be meeting this weekend.

Jones' Diner has been passed down from generation to generation by my great-great-grandfather since the 1920s. 

As the eldest child in the fourth generation, I took over this small family business right after I graduated business school even though my father hadn't yet reached the age of retirement, and I've been running the business for almost three years now since I was twenty two.

We don't always get to follow our dreams.

I only agreed to take over the diner because it was my late grandmother's wish. 

She passed during my early college years. I was the closest to her and greatly cherished her just as she did me.

I can't say the same for my parents.

Today, I spent the whole day in my office to distract myself with work, just like the last two years. 

Because going back to the house to face my uncaring family would only further twist the blade of sorrow into my heart.

I'm staring unseeingly into the small space when the ringing of my cellphone jeers me out of my reverie.

It flashes with the name Mr. Oz.

My buyer has a weird surname. 

I glance at the wall clock and blink when I see that it past ten p.m., almost closing time already.

Why is he calling so late? 

I reel back my thoughts and anchor myself in the present before swiping to answer.

"Mr. Oz. What can I do for you?"

"Ms. Jones, I'm sorry to call so late at night, but I was wondering if we could change our meeting to tomorrow?" His voice drifts over the phone, a low and deep timbre.

I always try to picture what he looks like, but fail.

"Oh, sure. Tomorrow, the same time?" I find myself agreeing because the earlier the better.

"Yes, same time. Thank you, Ms. Jones. I'm looking forward to our meeting." 

I've never met him in person, we only communicated through phone calls and emails.

But now that there are only two last steps, we agreed to meet in person to perform due diligence before signing the agreement.

"No problem, Mr. Oz. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Ms. Jones." His voice is like silk, wrapping around me and I almost forget to respond.

"Yes. Goodnight, Mr. Oz."

After hanging up the call, I take a deep calming breath.

This is it. Freedom is near.

I exit my office to see that the sky is dark with few stars in sight. After a whole day cooped up in my office, my body is stiff and aching.

The diner is empty now, with only one last table occupied. I glance briefly and notice it's a young girl and a little boy.

My eyes automatically drift over again, landing on the little boy.

He has a head of thick blonde hair.

My chest tightens when I think about how my child would be about the same age if I didn't have a miscarriage.

"Ms. Jones, is everything alright?" A voice pulls me back from my depressing thoughts.

I snap my gaze to the teen boy behind the counter.

All the staff have left, leaving only Connor who tends to the counter.

He's usually the one who locks up the diner and I've known him since he was a kid.

It's a small town.

He's still in high school and is working here as a part timer.

"Hey Connor. Yeah everything's fine. I'll lock up tonight. You can head home first."

I curve my lips into a smile at him which doesn't reach my eyes, and if he looks close enough, he would be able to detect the stiffness around my curved lips.

His eyes light up in surprise and wariness. "A-Are you sure? But you're the boss. I can't let-"

"Mhm and the boss is telling you to get outta here." I insert a teasing tone in my voice. "You're a good worker, Connor. But don't neglect your studies kay?"

His eyes widen even more and a blush creeps onto his face.

Yes. I keep tabs on my employees even though this small family business isn't what I wanted.

"Y-Yes, Ms. Jones."

I roll my eyes playfully and chide him for being such a stranger. "Connor, it's Cyra."

The wink I give him turns his face even redder and I chuckle lightly at the stunned look on his face. 

I guess I still have it in me.

"Now get outta here before I change my mind." I make a shooing gesture at him which gets him into action, pulling off his apron and collecting his bag in record time.

"Thanks Ms. Jo- Cyra." His eyes dart to mine shyly as he shuffles on his feet.

I ruffle his hair fondly and bid him goodnight. As the double doors swing shut, I let out another sigh and pivot around. The sight of the two remaining customers brings back my gloomy mood.

They're done with their meal so I walk over to clear their plates, reminding myself not to stare at the boy.

But easier said than done.

My eyes stray to him anyway.

My hands work in autopilot, stacking the plates and collecting the cutlery, but my eyes stay glued to him.

His eyes are forest green, with long blonde lashes framing them.

His skin is smooth and fair just like a child's should be.

I can even smell his baby scent from my position and my vision turns a little hazy with tears welling up.

I gulp once and blink my eyes to shake off the sadness. I almost forget about the young girl's presence.

My gaze flits over to her and notice she doesn't look like the boy at all.

It's not uncommon for siblings to not bear resemblance. Or it could be because of her terrible dye job.

She could use a little bit of advice on fashion, and that's saying a lot coming from me.

"Bring me the bill." She demands with a snobbishly superior tone and I resist the urge to shoot her down a few notches.

Because customers are like gods.

I roll my eyes on the inside.

"I'll check for you in a bit, miss." I dip my head politely and carry the plates to the kitchen behind and hurry over to the cashier, only to see that they already left. 

Without making the payment.

Well, shit.

I should've known better. She's the definition of a teenage rebel. I wouldn't be surprised if she snuck out from the house while she's grounded and used her little brother as a shield. 

I stare out the windows to try and spot the two of them but the dim street lights don't help my cause.

Even though Marysville is a relatively safe town, you never know when tragedy decides that you're its next victim. So I hope they get home safe, especially the little boy.

I hold my forehead with a palm and check their bill. It's not too expensive but still, it wouldn't look good when I'm trying to sell off the business.

I release a pent-up breath and tousle my red locks in frustration.

I gather my things once I've closed the cashier, and prepare to head back to my house which is just that.

A house.

But far from a home to me. 

After making sure all the lights have been switched off, I lock up and walk towards my lone car parked in the middle of the big parking lot.

The waning moon sheds a natural faint glow on the vacant streets, the perfect picture of a tranquility. My white sneakers crunch on the gravel, resounding throughout the silent night.

I reach my car but my hand freezes on its way to the door handle when an ear-splitting scream disrupts the night's serenity and my little bubble of sadness, heightening my senses immediately.

I hesitate, my feet like lead.

But when a child's fearful cry pierces my ears, my body has swiveled around of its own accord to sprint into the midst of danger. 

The sounds of struggle become louder with every step I take. As I round the corner of the diner, I immediately recognize the tiny figure of the boy from earlier.

My heart lurches in my chest at the way he's wailing, crouched on the ground in fright.

It's only then I notice a large man forcing himself upon the teenage rebel against the wall as she struggles to escape his strong hold.

This scene is an all-too-familiar one, but just like that time, my mind has already made up itself and there's not a damn thing I can do to suppress this raw instinct in me.

And throw a child who is completely powerless against the atrocious scene unfurling right before his eyes into the mix?

It's impossible to stop myself from doing something I swore I would never do again.

I lighten my footsteps and keep to the shadows so as to not alert the assailant.

As I near the three figures, I can see tears streaming down the boy's chubby cheeks as he cries for help, his words barely coherent.

But there's no one within the perimeter because it's almost midnight.

No one except me.

The assailant curses as the boy's pleas don't halt, then he backhands the girl who is crying silently. She falls to the ground in a helpless heap and moans in pain.

The assailant approaches the boy and lifts a hand ready to strike him. My eyes widen with fury and I react.

"HEY!" I shout loud enough to wake the dead. "Pick someone your own size!"

I've always wanted to say that.

The boy sees me first, a hopeful expression flashes across his terrified and tear-stained face, but it crumbles back into a fearful one within a split second.

His eyes seem to say 'run'.

The assailant swerves around with surprise in his eyes. When he realizes I pose no threat to him, or so he thinks, his beady-eyed gaze flits across my whole body and my insides twist in disgust.

He throws me a lecherous gaze and sneers. 

"This is between me and this bitch, so why don't you walk away with those pretty long legs of yours and pretend you didn't see anything eh?"

I stand my ground with feet slightly apart and stare coldly at him. I scan his large meaty build and tattoo-covered skin, forming a plan in my mind.

His unkempt face flickers with annoyance at my lack of cooperation. "Get lost if you don't wanna get hurt, pretty lady!" He threatens with a menacing glint in his eyes. 

The girl is still curled up on the ground with the boy kneeling and whimpering at her side as he looks between the three of us.

"You're the one who's gonna get hurt, jackass." I narrow my eyes a fraction and channel all my focus into readying myself for something I'm completely out of practice.

It's been a long time but thank God I wore leggings today.

He cackles with mocking laughter and trails his eyes over my body again. "Maybe I'll have a little fun with you first."

I raise a hand with my palm up and curl my fingers at him daringly.

The boy blanches in horror at my provocation and the girl also becomes more alert.

I shoot him an assuring smile before transferring my gaze back to the assailant.

He comes at me almost at a leisurely pace with an evil smile.

Just when he's less than three feet away, I deftly launch a powerful front kick at his chin, causing his head to snap back with the force.

He stumbles a good few steps away but doesn't go down.

His eyes widen with shock and outrage from my unexpected attack.

Then, he snarls at me and produces a knife from his pocket.

This time, I'm prepared.