CAST AWAY HEART
(Contemporary Thanksgiving Romance)
By Sarah J. McNeal
Fire Star Press
After her fiancé breaks her heart and humiliates her on what
was to be their wedding day, Ella Dubois has vowed never to open her heart
again.
Nickoli Vesa, a Romanian pianist, has loved Ella for years,
but she only sees him as her long time
friend.
How can a deserted piano heal a shattered spirit and inspire
it to sing again?
Excerpt:
There it stood like a brave soldier, silent in its despair
and covered in snow. One of the ornately
carved legs had rotted away and lie on the ground beside it causing the piano
to list to that side. It resembled an
old ship that had taken a huge wave and, as the water began to fill its hull,
was sinking slowly into the sea. The
wooden underside of the keys had begun to swell and dislodge from the smooth
white pads. The black keys had eroded
into splinters and the top of the piano had caved in on the piano wires.
Ella choked
back a sob at the sorrowful sight. How
could that awful man watch this happen to such a beautiful instrument? The
piano could have brought the joy of music to so many. How much hatred could he possibly have to
find delight in watching the destruction of his wife’s piano? What a despicable human being.
Nickoli drove the car to the side of the road and
stopped. He turned to Ella and gathered her up into his arms. “You must stop mourning, inima mea. Until you stop
longing for things to be different, you cannot change your future. You cannot let happiness in. You understand, yes?”
She knew he was not talking to her about the piano. He was talking about Mark. There was no way for him to understand the
pain she still felt from Mark’s
rejection. The memory of her standing
there at the front of the church with her friends and family all present as her
father announced there would be no wedding that day was still sharp enough to
cut into her heart. “I need time, Nick. I can’t
just let it go like it never happened.”
She pushed back from his embrace and met his eyes. “It’s the worst thing that ever happened to
me.”
He did not take his eyes from hers. Removing his hands from around her, he moved
back into his seat. “All is required,
you let go. Stop looking back or you
cannot see where you are going.”
Excerpt:
As they made their way back to the house
through the snow and chilly air, Nickoli took her arm, leaned in close enough
that his breath warmed her ear and whispered, “And now we have the night to
share alone in our room.”
The excitement of anticipation shot through
her. It was thrilling just to think of
lying in his arms maybe even naked. She
had not seen Nickoli without his clothes. Curiosity burned along her veins in
surging rivers of stirring need. His
hand tightened on her arm and she looked up to see him smiling down at
her. The devilish man seemed to guess her
every thought. Well, he was about to see
a new side of her tonight.
If they were going to pretend to be engaged
and in love, what harm could there be in having a little fun? In the back of her mind, she had always
wondered what Nickoli would be like in bed.
Well, maybe it was time to find out.
Excerpt:
There were a few minutes of cozy silence
before Ella told Nickoli her
plan. “You know how I have been dreading
going home to my parents’ house in Independence for Thanksgiving.” She rolled her eyes comically. “My two brothers will be there with their
wives and their brood of kids, along with my busybody parents and younger
sister. They’ll all start talking about
their families, and then they’ll turn their conversation to me.”
She swallowed against the acidic feelings that
came to the surface. “They’ll all dive
into my private business. Have I got a
boyfriend yet? Am I dating anyone
special? When am I going to get over
being jilted at the altar?” The memory
surfaced, and the pain of it pierced her chest.
She swallowed hard and made herself go on. “I just can’t face them alone—again. I don’t want them feeling sorry for me. I especially don’t want them to remind me for
the hundredth time that my biological clock is ticking. Mom will have to go on and on at nauseam
about life not being full unless a woman has children. She’ll just have to ask me when I’m going to
give her more grandchildren.”
Ella drew in a deep, calming breath while Nickoli
quietly waited for her to continue speaking.
The backs of her eyes burned with humiliation. “I just can’t do it, Nick. I want to see them, and I would love to spend
Thanksgiving with them, but not if I have to endure an inquisition.”
“What would make you happy then?” Nickoli asked the question quietly.
“I want to take a boyfriend with me, a fiancé,
actually. Well, not actually a real
boyfriend except that they would think he is my boyfriend.” She could barely make herself go on. Nickoli’s face seemed to pale, and his eyes
darkened though he remained silent.
She summoned up all her courage. “I want you to go home with me for
Thanksgiving. We can pretend we’re in
love. It will make them happy, and I
won’t have to face them and all their nagging.”
She sighed heavily. “It would
save me from the torment of their well-meaning questions.”
“You want to pretend.” He seemed to put a
strange emphasis on the word that made Ella’s
stomach clench.
“Well, yes.
Would it be that hard for you to pretend to care for me that way?” A little knot formed in her throat that hurt
her, reminding her of Mark and his
casual disregard for her feelings.
He shook his head, but his expression seemed
shadowed as his lips thinned in a frown.
“No. I would not have to pretend
to care.”
He was such a dear. He was like a comfortable pair of shoes that
never pinched your feet.
“Wonderful. Oh, thank you, Nick. You’ve
saved me.” She leaned toward him and
kissed him on his mouth. His firm lips
responded, kissing her back, and a little thrill ran up her spine and quickened
in her chest.
Excerpt:
The music spilled from the heart of the baby
grand and poured its sorrow on Ella
until she didn’t think she could bare the terrible loneliness of its mournful
sound another moment. Her eyes welled
with tears. Her own deep, unrelenting sadness came to the surface and ate at
her heart. The piano stood in dignified
repose like a stalwart soldier waiting for orders, but all the while knowing
there will be no further orders, no further requests for its talents. Ella
felt the love of her life had done the same to her and she, like the piano,
must press on with whatever dignity she had left. How long would the piano suffer like
this? How long would she?
When
Nickoli completed the song and the notes died under the falling snow, he
returned to Ella and took her in his
arms as if guessing how sad the piano made her feel. He whispered close to her ear. “She still has hope. She still sings.”
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