Ethan In Love

Ethan

The loud blaring of my alarm forced me to open my eyes immediately like it had every morning for the past five years. I had no idea why I allowed it to reset every day when I was always woke up without it. Maybe because I knew without it there was nothing that would force me out of bed.

I let out a heavy sigh as I rolled onto my side, grabbed my phone and pressed 'stop'. Before I could even get another breath in my phone rang displaying my assistant's, Kelly, contact.

"Good morning Kelly," I gruffly answered as I sat up on my bed then turned so my feet could touch the ground and slipped them into my slippers.

"Good morning Mister Jackon," she chirpily answered already filled with energy at 5am.

"What's my morning schedule?" I connected my phone to the Bluetooth devices set up around my room so we could continue talking without me having to carry my phone around.

"You have a meeting with the managers with the engineering department at 9am regarding the new hotel we are building in New York. From there you have a conference meeting with the accounting department and at 5pm you have a dinner with your Uncle Yavok and your Uncle Edward."

I nodded with a small smile as I entered my bathroom. The family took up most of my schedule anyway. "Alright, I'll be in the office at 8am."

"Great Sir, would you like for me to order your morning coffee for you?"

"No thank you, I'll get it on my way."

"Alright Sir, see you later."

She ended the call quickly after which allowed me to brush my teeth and quickly wash my face. From there I entered my closet, wore a black tracksuit with my runners then left my penthouse.

It was a colder morning in London especially with the winter soon approaching. The skies were turning grey and the chill in the air had intensified massively that I almost regretted not wearing a beanie over my hair under my hoodie.

Yet the cold was not the part that bothered me the most. It was that every time I looked up and saw a billboard, bright blue intense eyes and white curly hair was the first thing I saw.

The hardest part about staying in London which was also highly influential in fashion was that when your ex was one of the biggest and highest in demand model, his face was everywhere you looked.

At a point I almost regretted buying a penthouse in the uptown district where I knew all the rich and famous lived, because it was impossible not to see his face. It became so much that I was willing to move but the convenience of the distance of the office and my house was too great to leave.

Therefore I just had to stomach it. Yet with our history, I knew everyone's eyes were constantly on me because they knew of who I was once with and the tragedies that had unfolded between us.

It was, however, always a good motivation on why I took a jog on this street every single morning, because it forced me to run faster so I would not see his face for too long, but also fed my heart with the chance to see him whenever I started my day.

Before it was better. To see his face with the hope that he was waiting for me. For me to come back to him once I had figured out my life. It felt like that extra push for me to work harder and be a partner he would be proud of whenever I saw his face on a billboard, magazine, advert or poster.

Now it felt like a dagger had been stabbed through my heart and ripped out. When you looked past the beautiful blue eyes, the white as snow hair with caramel sunkissed skin and freckles, you would sometimes see the caramel skin and dark curly hair of his new girlfriend.

Every morning it felt like a slap to my face that I had once had him and lost him. That people loved his new relationship more than they could have ever loved the image of us. His girlfriend was born for the cameras just like him whilst everyone thought I deserved to be sealed in an office for no one to look at.

Their relationship had been living rent free in my mind for the past two years that at times it felt like I was going crazy. Never in my life had I experienced the emotions I felt when I looked at them. Never had I felt the extreme pang of jealousy and hatred towards someone I had only met for a handful of times.

Everyone loved her. Everyone gushed about her beauty and how they were practically two peas in a pod. At most family events I had to constantly have a glass of alcohol in my hands to help me not get sick every time I saw how in love they were.

That I had taken for granted how it felt to wake up next to him and already hear his infectious laughter in the early hours of the morning. At times I panicked that I had forgotten his scent that I had to go as far to hunt down the cologne and body washes he used just so it could feel like I still had a part of him in my house.

His clothes were still in my own closet because I had a sick sense that one day I would hear my door open and he would walk in ranting about an argument he had with someone at a grocery store.

That I had not changed a single thing about my penthouse since that day he had broken things off, because even though I would never admit it, I still had hope that one day he would come back and things would just go back to how they used to be.