"Letting go means to come to the realization that some people are a part of your history, but not a part of your destiny." - Steve Maraboli

After four years

Annabelle's POV

"Stefan dear, come and join us for breakfast,'' said gran. Then, turning towards me, she introduced us. "Anna sweetheart, this is my eldest grandson, Stefan." She looked at her grandson affectionately. "Stefan, meet Annabelle. I told you about her, remember?" He nodded at gran while I gave him an expressionless look, trying to be as nonchalant as possible, but I could feel the warm flush creep up my cheeks at his continuous stare. His piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into my soul.
"We meet again," he said as he stretched his hand out for a shake over the table.
"Yeah, sadly, we do." I put my hand forward, but a jolt of electric tingle ran upwards, causing goosebumps all over me. He might have felt it too, as his eyes dilated. I snatched my hand away immediately. Feeling him checking me out, I turned and glared at him instead, but he seemed the least bit affected. The arrogant and knowing smirk on his face made my blood boil so much that my appetite left me and I just popped food into my mouth like an automaton.
Gran seemed oblivious to our brief encounter as she enjoyed her delicious pancakes, adding more fruit toppings to each bite. Throughout breakfast, I felt his intense stare taking in my every move. Duke was no different. His wide-eyed gaze upon me also had me nearly rolling my eyes. Martha thankfully took him away with her to be fed and cleaned. Although I felt like a worm under a microscope, gran's continuous chatter taking updates of all the Henderson siblings made the time fly by quickly.
After breakfast, gran went to her room as her physiotherapist had arrived and I went back to gardening. Stefan disappeared upstairs to his room along with his beast, and I was thankful. The soft summer breeze kept me cool as I successfully planted the geranium seeds. I was done, so with a wave toward John, I left the garden and went up to my room for a shower. Feeling fresh, I wore a pink tank top and denim shorts and left my hair open for air drying. I went to the terrace and sat on the swing, my favorite place in the entire world. I had with me the book I'd been reading "Murder on the Orient Express (Poirot)" by Agatha Christie.
I was so engrossed in reading the book that I didn't feel the swing sway. "Breathe, it's only fiction," whispered a voice in my ear, startling me totally. I fell off the swing along with my book and landed on my butt. My eyes went wide, at seeing none other than a grinning Stefan standing a few inches away. The amusement in his eyes again made me mad with anger.
"God, you're impossible. You scared me," I huffed and got up and whirled around, ready to leave. He caught my wrist to stop me, and brought me back to the swing, making me sit with him. I turned my head in the other direction.
Coming closer, he said, "Okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." I looked into his eyes and saw the sincerity of his apology.
He didn't move away and his eyes held my gaze as if peering into my soul. I forgot to breathe in his nearness. He had the most stunning eyes, electric blue, sparkling from the reflection of the sunlight outside the sunshade. His eyes held my gaze in a hypnotic trance. I couldn't look away, although my conscience told me to.
After our staring contest, he abruptly looked away and moved out of my personal space. "So, do you love suspense thrillers? What else do you like?" he asked curiously.
"Yeah, I like those, as well as romance and philosophical books. What about you?" I couldn't help but ask him. I wanted to know so much about him.
"Romance? Do you believe in those? In true love?" he asked incredulously, gazing back, his eyes boring a hole in my face and neck.
"Yeah, I believe we all are destined for someone. True love happens once in everyone's lifetime," I said, looking up in the sky at the creator of this universe who wrote my destiny. Who did he create for me? Who was destined to be mine forever?
"You are very innocent and naïve. There's nothing called true love. Man makes his own destiny. Everyone is after something, some gain, or just for some personal benefit out of a relationship. It may sound cynical to you, but it is the bitter truth," he explained to me.
I looked at him and pondered over what he said. Maybe he was hurt by someone, turning him so bitter against the thought of love and relationships, I concluded.
"How old are you?" he asked, looking into my eyes.
"Seventeen, and you?" I asked.
''I'll turn twenty-four in three months," he informed me with a small smile. Realizing that he was still holding my hand, I looked up and tried to free myself, feeling uncomfortable. He took the hint and released me.
"I noticed how attached you are to gran," said Stefan.
"Yeah, she's all I have," I answered in a small voice. He again took my hand and stroked it absent-mindedly, massaging small circles at the back of it.
"Gran loves you a lot and talks to us about you all the time whenever we call. Thanks for being there for her. She needs company. We are all so busy and far away, she misses all her grandchildren," he sighed as he spoke.
I looked up into his blue eyes and felt warm and grateful. Apart from gran, someone else appreciated me for the first time. My dad had always proved to me how worthless I was. I knew Stefan had a twin sister and three half-brothers, as gran had told me, and they were all busy with their studies. They hardly came over to spend time with gran. She was lonely when I arrived here, but ever since I started living here, she has been happier. So his appreciation made me even more confident that I could take care of gran, the way she took care of me.