Heartprints in the Void

Heartprints in the Void

Laisha Gardner

98.0k Words / Ongoing
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Introduction

I wish someone had taught me you can’t make your happiness all about loving one person, because what happens when you lose them? What happens to what’s left of you after they’ve taken half of you?

My name is Elysian Reign, and unlike my last name, I’m not extraordinary. My mother died when I was born, and my father drank himself to death. I graduated with a Mathematics degree of which I hardly use as a junior Network Security Engineer. I live in a one-bedroom apartment around the corner of my favorite gym, and I have a Saint Bernard named Bubbles—unextraordinarily so.

His name is Cade Sinclair, and unlike me, he is extraordinary. His mother was one of my professors before she passed, and his father is the owner of Sinclair Enterprises. Yes, as in Sinclair Enterprises: the largest firearm manufacturer for the Armed Forces.

I should’ve known better. But you never imagine that the love of your life’s own father would go through lengths to make sure his son doesn’t end up with someone like you—even if it means forcing him into an experimental military hypnosis treatment.

After three years of putting myself back together, you’d think I’d have learned my lesson. You’d think that I would’ve double checked before accepting a job for a company his father happens to own. You’d think that I would’ve changed my identity and left the country after walking in on my first day to find that Cade is the lead Network Engineer on my team—aka, my boss.

Now, how am I supposed to work with him when he’s made it his mission to make my life a living hell? How am I supposed to make him—at the very least—tolerate me when he’s been hypnotized to hate me?
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About Author

Laisha Gardner

Chapter 1

Rain.

I watch it fall through the window of my dorm room, leaning against the wall beside it as I kneel on my bed, my legs tucked beneath my weight. The tears that stain my cheeks feel cold against my skin, gathering at my chin and dripping onto the hand-written letter sitting on my lap. My lip trembles, a soft sob passing my lips as my eyebrows furrow, the bridge of my nose stinging.

What did I do..?

My gaze falls to the piece of paper, and through my hazy vision, I re-read the lines over and over again:

‘*Ely, *

*I’ve been staring at this sheet of paper for the past two hours, unsure of how to tell you what I need to say. Ely, my dearest Ely, I love you. I will always love you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. You see, I once dreamt about you. Before we met, I had a dream about meeting you. You were standing near the waterfall of our favorite park, wearing that bitsy blue dress of yours that I love so much, and you looked at me and smiled. *

I don’t know why, but when I woke up from that dream, I knew. I just knew someday I’d meet you and I’d ask you to marry me. I envisioned a life where I’d come home to you, my beautiful wife, and the daughter we’d name Naomi.

Ely, I love you. I love you, but I can’t stay with you. I wish I could. With everything inside me, I wish I could have you for the rest of my life, but I’m not the same man I was when we met. I won’t ever be the same man again, and it’s not fair to you. You deserve more.

Ely, my dearest Ely. Please, live. Live your life to the fullest. Be happy. Live.

I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me, and maybe in another life, we’ll meet again. In another life, where the world isn’t so cruel, my dream—you—I’ll be blessed to live.

*-Cade’ *

Tears splotch the black ink, my hands trembling as a hiccup rips from my chest. I shift my hand, placing it flat over the letter, and as I look down at the shiny diamond ring on my finger, I wish, with everything inside me, I could disappear—fade away into nothing.

Three Years Later

“Alright, Bubbles. It’s official!”

I clap my hands in excitement, looking down at my two-year-old Saint Bernard as he wiggles his butt to lower himself onto the dark gray rug of the living room. “This is home,” I breathe out in contentment.

It’s been two weeks since I packed up my apartment and moved half-way across the country for a new job opportunity. It’s never the packing that gets me. Packing? I’m excited for. It’s the unpacking that, for the life of me, I dread to no end. It’s the unloading, unboxing, tossing, and rearranging for me, really. So…essentially all of it.

Today, however, I unpacked the last box, thus making the move official.

Well, in my head, it does, anyway.

I exhale deeply, watching as Bubbles keeps eyeing me with anticipation in his eyes, his tail wagging dangerously behind him.

He knows. It’s that time of the day: we walk to the park so he can get tired and refuse to walk back.

Pain in my ass…

“Alright, let’s get going then,” I mutter as I move to the doorway, reaching for the leash hanging on one of the key holders next to the front door.

In one swift motion, I clip the leash to his collar and pull the door open. As always, he’s a good boy and sits, following quickly beside me as I take the first step out. People hardly talk about this, but the fact that they make doorlocks that don’t require you to insert a key is the greatest invention of mankind.

Okay, that is a little bit of an exaggeration.

It’s just convenient. I wave the little keyfob over the monitor, and it peeps. I turn the lock, and it locks. How cool is that?

The convenience of living on the first floor cannot be overlooked, especially when you do your own grocery shopping and have to take your dog out multiple times daily. Unfortunately, I can’t say that I had the luxury of picking the first floor because I got stuck on the third floor. And with no elevators? My life is ass. Absolute ass.

Here goes cardio, I guess.

Bubbles walks closely beside me as we descend the flights of stairs and head down the street. The park is only a block away from my apartment and the gym that I just signed up for is one block away in the opposite direction, purposefully so.

After having to do one-hour commutes to school and to the gym back when I was in college for nearly five years, I avoid driving if I have to. I hate to be that person, but COVID may very well have been the best thing that ever happened to me.

You know how people say that they’re homebodies but they aren’t actually homebodies? Yeah…that’s not me. I love being at home. In fact, if I never had to leave home, I probably never would. It’s not that I don’t like people. It’s that I don’t like stupid people. And it’s not that I’m arrogant. It’s that when your IQ is well above average, almost everyone seems stupid to you.

Just like this past Sunday, the park is relatively empty. Personally, my favorite part about coming to the park is the little food truck that parks across from the park. They make this amazing coconut boba milk tea.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy walking Bubbles. It’s that the greatest perk of it is getting to drink my favorite boba tea every single time.

Most importantly, it fits perfectly into my macros diet, so I feel absolutely zero shame…except for the $30 I spend on it weekly.

The greatest part about arguably having the laziest dog in the world is that it only takes one lap around the concrete trail and he’s ready to sit. This is when I get to go up to the fluorescent colored food truck where the familiar blond teenage boy already has my tea prepared for me.

He greets me cheerfully, “Hi again!”

I offer him a small smile as I navigate my iPhone to the Apple Pay app, tapping it against the payment terminal.

It’s kind of crazy how you’re asked to tip pretty much everywhere nowadays. I remember when I was working fast food, and I was lucky if I didn’t get yelled at by a customer for something that was out of my control. I guess that really doesn’t have anything to do with tipping. I don’t know. I just think it’s weird. But the kid’s nice and doesn’t make me wait, eh…what the hell?

I tap on the 20% button and nod at him, taking my boba tea as he thanks me kindly. “Have a great day!” He exclaims.

With a small smile on my face, I turn to find the nearest bench—the one I usually sit on—and lower myself to it. Holding Bubbles’ leash between my legs, I pierce the plastic seal of my tea with the straw and lean back as I sip on it with fulfillment.

I enjoy the cloudy sky and cool breeze kissing my fair skin as I think about what tomorrow will bring. Or, at least, of what I hope it will bring.

The extensive background check that they run on you is really something else when you’re working for a company that requires a high security clearance. It has been six months of waiting and quite literally getting paid to do nothing, hence the 3-year contract. But while I waited, I kept my old job as a technical administrator—for double the income. It wasn’t until two weeks ago that I received notification that my clearance came through and I would be required to be in the office bright and early tomorrow morning. Of which I was very happy about, minus the unpacking.

When you’re in college, no one ever talks about how maybe 1% of people get to do what they’re truly passionate about. Because realistically speaking, most things that people are passionate about aren’t enough to make a living from. So if you’re like me, you settle. You focus on something that you understand, you get good at it, and if it pays the bills, you just kind of stick with it. It’s the sad reality of growing up.

Although, I guess when you come from nothing, it doesn’t actually feel like you’re settling when your compensation is enough to live comfortably.

The light water droplets that suddenly stain my round glasses pull me out of my thoughts.

Welp, time to go.

At the trash can beside me, I toss the empty plastic cup as I straighten on my feet. With Bubble’s leash around my wrist, we make our way back to the apartment complex.

It seems like the closer we get, the harder the wind blows and the sky grows darker. The loose leaves rustling on the trees dance with the wind, falling and kissing the ground.

It’s no surprise, really. Fall, my favorite time of the year, is right around the corner. For the first time in my life, I might actually experience a snowy winter.

Well, assuming it ever snows again in South Texas.

“I’m trying, okay? You don’t make it easy, Lydia!”

I arch a brow as I approach the dark brown haired man standing at the corner of the block. He holds his phone up against his ear with an irritable look on his face.

“I’m literally standing out here, in the rain, talking to you. Why would I do that if I didn’t care about you?” He speaks into the phone.

*It is drizzling, at best. Dramatic as hell. *

“Look, I’ll call you back later. I don’t have time for this shit.”

A light chuckle emits from the back of my throat as I shake my head and roll my eyes.

Oh, shit.

My breath suddenly catches in my lungs, my body colliding with another much larger than mine. I stagger back, catching myself in the next moment.

“I’m sorry,” a familiar, deep, husky voice echoes.

My gaze snaps up, capturing a pair of ocean-blue irises. I eye the tall man for what seems like a split second, scanning his stern features, but he doesn’t stop, hardly giving me a sideways glance as he continues his hastened steps down the block and around the corner.

It takes me a while, my steps ceasing entirely as it hits me in the next second. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, the image of his face lingering in my mind.

It’s as though the stars have aligned, thunder cracking in the sky as I feel the promise of the rain falling hard on me. But it hardly fazes me. In fact, were it not for Bubbles’ whimper, the rain would’ve gone completely unnoticed by me.

Cade..?

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