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The Silver Locket
He waltzed into the café like a man possessed – or perhaps a man in love. His brown hair, normally tousled, basked in a smooth golden glow; his eyes, usually bored, sparkled like crystal diamonds. There was something different too about his demeanor; naturally cool and distant by nature, he radiated a sort of warmth to anybody he met – perhaps that of hope. In his right palm, he clenched a small silver locket.
His eyes roamed the crowded restaurant before pausing. A shock of anxiety shot through him at once.
She was sitting casually in the back corner of the café, right by the window. The cool breeze, silky and smooth, caressed her lean shoulders and flirtingly played with her brunette hair. Her eyes, a mysterious violet color, did not glance up as the man possessed sat across from her, but instead, concentrated on the sago palm swaying outside.
She ignored him for a while more, preferring to close her eyes. The cool air played leapfrog on her skin.
When she finally opened them, she saw him gazing at her.
“So you’ve finally come,” the brunette remarked casually, without a hint of interest. The girl – no more than 22 years old at best – allowed herself a small smile at the irony embedded in the situation.
“Yes.” His voice was rich, sweet, and melodious. But there was another emotion under it – apprehension.
“And you’ve come with something?”
For the first time since walking in, the boy looked truly unsettled. “Something?”
She laughed. “My my Edward, I thought we were over this. Aren’t you going to apologize?”
Edward breathed a sigh of relief, and the apprehension eased. “Yes, I am,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“I’m sorry, Annabelle.”
She turned her head. “You have to be more specific.”
Edward gazed at her mournfully. “For hurting you. For cheating on you. For doing this…I shouldn’t have. It was a mistake.”
There. The words he could never before bring himself to say. The words that asked for destruction but pleaded for forgiveness. Words that could end something, but also start something new.
Annabelle closed her eyes again, and a small, inaudible sigh escaped her. She was absolutely beautiful, Edward noticed, in the sunlight. The rays somehow managed to capture each strand of her golden locks…her fair skin, with the faintest trace of rosy red, seemed to shimmer quietly under the undulating air…He squeezed the locket – the one she gave to him a year ago – and held it tightly in his fist.
Then the spell was broken. Annabelle eyed him warily, boring her violet eyes into his.
“You don’t mean that,” she whispered. He heard the faintest trace of remorse in her voice.
He shook his head. “But I do,” he insisted. He cradled her hand in his. “I truly do. Anna, if I could do something –”
“Please.” She shook her hand from his, and his heart sank like a rock. “I don’t love you. I can’t…not after what you had done.”
A single tear sparkled on the corner of her eyelash. Oh what he would do to gently wipe it away!
“Annabelle, please.” Edward’s voice was now like a sob, desperate and low. “Don’t do this to me! It was my mistake…and I will do whatever to fix it. Anna, my sweet Anna – please…”
Her violet eyes hardened. “Why?” she hissed fiercely. “Why should I believe you?”
“Because.” He gulped. “Because…I love you.”
“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you left me.” Her tone, callous and icy, swept through him like a bullet, fierce and hard and angry. “Maybe you wouldn’t have left me then.”
“I don’t want your apology.”
“Now please leave,” she interrupted coldly, ignoring the tears streaming down her face. “If you love me, then go.”
Edward looked at his former lover with a broken heart. He felt as if his heart had been shredded to pieces. If only…
“Annabelle,” he murmured softly.
“Please go.” It was a quiet request.
He nodded his head, trying to hold back his own tears. Anna avoided his eyes, but said one last thing.
She didn’t look at him.
“Goodbye Anna. I’m sorry.”
He left. The sun, once a beautiful golden bulb in the sky, shadowed the coarse world with its murky, dim yellow light. The air, he noticed, was getting increasingly cold.
He crossed the street, heading towards his car. Suddenly, he paused. The locket, it seemed, was getting to be an irritating burden. It clanked noisily against the denim pocket of his jeans, as if to mock him.
Edward closed his eyes and took it out. It glinted eerily in the sunlight. He stared at it for a few moments, reminiscing over the lost memories of their relationship. Annabelle and him. Annabelle and Edward. Edward and Annabelle.
And then, without one last look, he threw it into the gutter, letting his one and only true love swirl away in the underground sewage rivers of New York City.