I walk up to Elijah at the end of the lecture with Anabelle in tow and shake my head. “Very sneaky, Mr Somersett. Why didn’t you tell me you were the alumni delivering the lecture this morning?” I ask, and he tries to hide his smile. “I guess I wanted to surprise you. Did it work?”Did it work? More than.“Well, I was certainly surprised, yes. Your lecture was very well thought out and spoken, I think I might just take this course after all.” I say and I see him turn serious at this. “It’s not easy though, Elena. Exeter will test you proficiently, and if you fail, it takes quite a while to come back from it.” He says, and I am taken back at the honesty of his words. Surely it wasn’t that difficult?“Are you speaking from experience, or are you only trying to scare me from applying?” I ask him, crossing my arms in front of me, “Anabelle has enrolled, and she is extremely happy here.

Elena Our first week in Little Cayman was heaven! The villa he bought was luxurious and had all our needs catered to. It was a five bedroom log villa with floor to ceiling windows, lush gardens, an indoor pool if needed and a Jacuzzi on the terrace. Why Sebastian felt the need to buy a flipping 5 bedroom home, I would never know. Sebastian had all his appointments done via Zoom and Skype video calls, so he was basically still working, but playing at the same time. He was right in what he said back in London; I have not been myself since the thing with Nicholas happened, and I was allowing myself to get dragged under the weight of it. I really wasn't doing well and hiding it, even from myself, but he saw right through it.  It's amazing what a break from your daily routine can do to you. My inspiration is back in full force and I can already feel the heavy cloud over my heart lifting. I decided to do my written work on oppressed female authors, wh

Sebastian“I will be a terrible mother. My own mother never showed me any love growing up, so how would I show it to a child? I would ruin them with my unloving presence, and they would grow up jaded and looking for love and acceptance in all the wrong places. I would only make them suffer, Anabelle, therefore I do not want any children.”As soon as I heard these words fall from Elena’s mouth, I knew things would be different between the two of us. She had never been this honest with me in the past regarding this. And for what reason? Did she think not having children was a deal breaker in our marriage?She looks up as if sensing me, and the moment our eyes meet, I see the guilt cloud her eyes. Oh, Elena, do you not know that I would love you even if you chose not to bear my children? I walk towards her and Anabelle and the latter look at me before giving Elena a kiss on the forehead and taking her leave. Elena doesn&r

SebastianThe air is thick with mourning. And sick curiosity.Elena and I are leading the funeral procession as we leave the church for the cemetery. She has been quiet ever since we came back from Paris and I have to admit that it was jarring. Where our villa used to be filled with her voice and laughter, now there was… nothing. I know it has to do with not making peace with my mother before the accident. Elena has a soft heart, so this is affecting her more than it has me. I have never had a proper relationship with my parents, but they doted on Elena, my mother even more so.When we arrive at the cemetery, I lace my fingers with hers and hold her close. The Dumont tomb isn’t too far into the cemetery and we reach it sooner than I anticipated. My eyes fall on Robert and Eliana as they take up the front with me. Robert looked crushed at this. And I know he wasn’t faking it because Eliana has said he has been hitting the whiskey

Elena“Ugh, you simply must, Elena,” Isaac says yet again in that Scottish accent of his that I love so much. He was currently trying to convince me to come to the MacGowan Biannual family gathering. “I already told you I hate these things!” I say, yet again, but he only rolls his eyes, then smirks devilishly. Oh, no. I know this smile all too well. This smile got me in trouble in my second week here at Exeter when he made me ask a professor for their number just to slip it to him. Did I forget to mention that he was a naughty bastard?“Well, Edgar Cooke will be there, but I guess you hate these things too much to come,” He says and turns to walk away. But I grab his wrist and pull him back. “Excuse me, tart?” I ask him and see his grin growing to super villain levels. “Yes, Edgar Cooke will be there. You know, your favourite author and all. Did I forget to mention that he’s my godfather? And