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Chapter seventeen
Emily
I’m pregnant. The thought keeps running through my mind.I’m pregnant, and I don't know who the father is.
In the heat of the moment, I'd let the man come inside me without thinking…and this…
This is terrifying.
I close my book, its pages folding together as I do, and let out a sigh. It's clear that I won't find peace within these pages today. My gaze remains fixed on the horizon as if searching for answers in the distance.
Suddenly, my heart skips a beat as I'm greeted by a presence beside me. I glance up and see Alexander Cooper standing there. I don’t move when he starts to approach me, and I'm not sure how to react. After our earlier interaction when he stormed away, I didn't think he'd want to speak with me. It leaves me surprised and a bit cautious, uncertain about his intentions.
“What book are you reading there?” he asks. His voice is laced with curiosity that makes me furrow my eyebrows.
Why is he talking to me?
I wonder, suspicious. Only minutes ago, he had stormed away, clearly upset. Now, he’s here, idly talking to me about my book.
Whatever the reason, I still had to answer his question. There’s no point in upsetting the owner of Sovereign Yacht now that he’s hired me to finally make the improvements in the marina.
“Oh,” I answer hesitantly, “I wasn’t quite reading it, but it'sWuthering Heights. You know, Emily Brontë. Have you read it?”
Like he would’ve. Think of something else to say. Quick.
But then Alex leans against the yacht's railing, getting himself comfortable. “Yeah, I've read it a few times. It's quite the classic. What do you think of it so far?”
His response surprises me, but I manage to let out a smile. I rise to my feet so that we talk eye-to-eye.
“Well, it's fascinating, really,” I say. “The dark and complex characters make it a captivating read. I find the tumultuous relationships in the story both intriguing and tragic.”
Alex nods. “Absolutely. Heathcliff and Catherine's relationship is one for the ages, right? The way they're drawn together and yet torn apart by societal expectations and their own flaws… it's all so beautifully tragic.”
“Yes,” I say, “Exactly! And the setting on the moors adds this eerie, almost supernatural element to the story. It's like the landscape itself is a character.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Alex responds. “The moors play a significant role in the novel's atmosphere and mood. It's a wild and untamed backdrop to the turbulent emotions of the characters.”
I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with Alexander Cooper—the grumpy lord who doesn’t give a damn about the marine life’s endangerment. We continue to discuss the book, sharing our thoughts and interpretations. Despite the earliertension, our conversation flows smoothly as we find common ground in our love for literature.
But as we keep chatting, something about our conversation feels strangely familiar.
Deja vu, maybe?
I can't help but wonder.
It's like we've dived into the world of literature together before. That sense of recognition lingers, teasing the edges of my thoughts. While I'm drawn into our discussion, this puzzling feeling continues to baffle me.
All of a sudden, a flicker of movement catches my eye. I turn in the direction and see a magnificent bird soaring gracefully through the open expanse of the sky right above us.
“Woah!” I cry out, pointing in its direction.
Its wings are outstretched as it catches the warm sunlight. Its snowy white head and dark, piercing eyes give it an air of regal authority.
“It’s an osprey,” Alex says.
I nod. I can't help but be captivated by its beauty. “Have you ever seen anything so graceful?"
Alex follows my gaze, his eyes narrowing as he watches the osprey. "I must admit, it's quite remarkable," he replies, a hint of fascination in his voice.
