The unrelenting power of love

Elizabeth Parker rushed indoors, already bone-tired despite the long night ahead of her, as the neon diner sign created a strong red glow over the rain-drenched downtown streets. She ran one palm over her face in an attempt to release the anvil-like weight of tiredness. Her rent was due in three days, hence she couldn even afford a moment of leisure. Every day her declining bank account made fun of her. Elizabeth headed toward the packed employee changing area and gave the hostess a forced grin.

She shed her all around a faded parka and traded it for the filthy pink-and- white uniform that smelled somewhat of sweat and a lot more strongly of disappointment. Knowing the black circles under her eyes and tight articulation would simply mask her sharp state of mind further, so she avoided her appearance in the scratched reflect as she stuck up her thick chestnut hair. Her dreams started to seem rather...beige when? Why was the painting of her life so empty of the vivid hues and countless possibilities? Elizabeth stammered hard against the sloshful of gloom in her throat. She knew the answer naturally since everything had become gray the day she first stared into the terrified eyes of the pink infant she was carrying at the hospital. Her whole world, her precious child's, and his dad vanished without explanation. Elizabeth corrected her scratchy outfit and headed toward the bustling burger establishment floor with fresh confidence, shedding the hopeless dream. These days, tips were her life saver as her mother's hospice care had consumed what little reserve money she had calculated over the long run. She grinned broadly and slipped up to her first late-shift table, where she was met with the usual smells of stale coffee and greasy burgers. For the family she was ready to give her son-the same thing she herself had never known-she was resolved to give. Graveyard hours. " Hello, people! What might I get beautiful people tonight? Elizabeth waited with a pencil poised to note their order while the two ragged businessmen in ill-fitting suits mumbled indifferently at the menu. One noticed her when he pointed directly at her frayed nametag. "Good morning Elizabeth." I'll have a side of you, darlin', with a cut of steaming delicious dessert to go. His friend laughed into his coffee mug as Elizabeth tightened herself against the heat of humiliation burning her cheeks. Her amicable smile was brilliantly made up, and she nibbled out in candy coated tone, "I'm sure the missis wouldn't take too kindly to it, sir. Would you say you were only seeking to test out for the most recent satirical show reject heap?" or could I at any point get you young men some real food?" She arched a challenging eyebrow as the man's face turned scarlet with shock and indignation and then turned on her heel without saying. She had dealt with other rude clients in this pit; they most definitely wouldn't be the last. Elizabeth ignored their poor attempt to ruin her evening; she was not particularly exceptional in marking people off the very lowest grade. When your life is at its lowest, you pick fast lessons not to let a few nasty jerks pull you down. Elizabeth shook off the short a confrontation, reset her head, honed in on seeing to her several customers, modified the constant flow of hot food conveyance and drink top off requests with patient grins and fast chat. One feature of the grind Elizabeth might enjoy was getting paid a decent stack of bills at the end. Elizabeth shook off the gushing praise for her awareness with a small smile following shipping out her last batch of six with a maximum of packaged extras. Oh, it wasn't really challenging! Kind comments really appreciated; kindly come back to see me once more! Elizabeth watched them go with light hearts, a certifiable smile wrinkling the edges of her eyes, the liberal tip they had left nestled snugly in the duvet cover folded over her waist. Many victories, regardless of their small scale. Eight great hours later, Elizabeth emerged from the dirty side hallway of the coffee shop into the ghostly pre-sunrise glist. She inhaled the crisp morning air, letting it fill her lungs and release the lingering scent of tobacco smoke and burned food from her exhausted body. Once more almost free for a priceless day. She snuck into a corner seat, covertly counting her money pull for the evening, while the passenger train was only starting to fill with disorganised office drones. If she spent $73.26 sensibly, it would be enough to fill their little cupboards for another week and cover the late shift. Elizabeth sighed, knowing that she would be stretched thin as usual, robbing Peter to pay Paul, and she sketched the bills that had built up once more in her head: electric, the student loan garnishment, and so on. She voluntarily agreed to work triple shifts for the foreseeable future, even though it meant sacrificing her own life for providing her baby with the life he was due. Elizabeth's tired brain drifted to her small blond child standing by silently in their limited studio loft as the rusting rail vehicle rocked through the metropolitan gulches. She would give anything to spend more of her waking hours savoring his contagious joy and unlimited vitality! But other from the few occasions she picked him up on her way out the door to the newest menial job, Jeremy hardly saw her these days. Then she would sweep back in as he sank off to sleep. Elizabeth let out long sighs from her small shoulders as the train banged into her station. Clearly, their tense situation was definitely her own flaw. She alone had let herself believe in fantasy emotions and whirlwind blissfully ever-afters with a constantly seen her as a brief male toy. By the time Elizabeth had the guts to discover that deliriously gorgeous billionaire stranger had completely charmed her, mind, body, and heart, and impart the life-altering news that was coursed through her veins, he had disappeared into the ether. Along with her personality, her dreams of a great career...and her capacity for trust. Elizabeth felt fresh remorse as she struggled her tired body up the seven flights of steps to their run-down tenement. Not this relentless pattern of hand-to--mouth struggle; how she wished to bless her spotless child with a steady, loving two-parent family! She knew Jeremy was worth any price and deserved more than simply the safe but repressive four walls she could offer him. Elizabeth slumped to the floor and gently kissed the fleece top of her fantasies and recuperation as she silently toed off her shoes and crept into the weak fundamental room, sleeping peacefully in their threadbare chair. "Hey there, sweetheart," she said softly as the young lad momentarily woke up and blinked slowly oceanically blue eyes. "M'a?" Before nestling further into the cosy comfort of his mother's arms, Jeremy whispered around his cherished toy puppy. Shhh, child; it's good. I'm at home. Elizabeth tucked the small blanket all the more cozily about his resting arrangement and simply enjoyed the pure, beautiful look of her most notable achievement. Her pupil. The source of her unwavering strength and eternal shame, across the board really amazing bundle. A few scattered tears followed a soft path down her cheeks before the emotional barrier totally collapsed. Elizabeth muted her tempestuous wails into the convict of her elbow as memories of one brilliant end of the week from her past reemerged - the end of the week she had quietly given the dissipated bits of her heart over to a devastatingly beguiling outsider, body and soul...right before he squashed it under her fashioner loafers thought for even a moment to expect something beyond his enthusiasm. Wanting someone to love you was too dangerous. Elizabeth had found that brutal illustration the most challenging approach available. She looked quickly at the old analog clock roaring in the corner to help her to collect her thoughts. At 8 a.m., their building manager loved to go around to see how tidy and in good condition their apartments were. Those who slept late and missed his thumps had to cope with either more terrible damage or penalties and eviction threats. Elizabeth inhaled steadily, then gently broke free from Jeremy's entwine and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. Though she longed to relax in this peaceful safe-haven with her kid, responsibility called. Frowning at the strong scent of the least expensive ground she could find, she pussyfooted to the kitchenette and began making a feeble approximation of espresso. Elizabeth sipped the cold liquid, trying hopelessly to ignore the pleasurable recollections hiding in the back of her brain. These memories comprised satin sheets, inquisitive hands, and the ecstatic ecstasy she underwent in the embrace of a stranger whose name she should never have mentioned while she was in the furnace of desire. Michael Drake had made her feel more alive and yearning for life in those fleeting minutes than she could have ever dreamed. Moreover, he had coldly thrown away her and the holy gift she brought from their white-hot tryst, just as quickly. Elizabeth was startled from her dream by a savage hammering at the door. She quickly straightened her messy hair and aired it, getting ready for the unwelcome week after week cross-examination from the property manager. But clearly not her agitated building manager was the tall, immaculately dressed man in the dark corridor. Actually, this man seemed to engulf the entire little space with his pure, overpowering presence and well-off smell as if she were called by the ghosts of her worst ambitions. "Everything considered, well..." The rich, educated voice was filled with cynical delight as the stranger's steel-gray eyes gently stroked Elizabeth's messy body in one caress. "Isn't this just... Mouthwateringly poetic?" Elizabeth finally caught the man she had spent two years attempting to wipe from her memory with a rising primitive panic squarely staring back at her. Her true soul had been marked by the man whose lethal combination of sensual nature and lack of compassion. Michael Drake had an acondafied approach back into her life. This time, he also seemed enthusiastic.

Elizabeth was tiredly climbing the squeaky stairs leading to their small apartment, and the world appeared to be squeezing down on her bowed shoulders. Late-night shifts and the dogged search for financial soundness had become an all too natural rhythm in her life, an unrelenting melody she was powerless to escape. She opened the battered door to discover their little house's dimly lighted interior, a far cry from the vivid fantasies she had formerly had.

Her appearance caught the small figure curled into the old couch, a cherubic face defined by messy blonde hair - her child, Jeremy, was asleep. Elizabeth's face started to show a faint smile, an unusual moment of calm among the chaos. Making sure not to disturb his undisturbed sleep, she gently tucked the tattered blanket about his small figure. She focused on his calm articulation, and a weight of obligation drew at her heart. This was not the life she had envisioned for her precious child-a life of conflict, of continual penance. Jeremy deserved so much more-a world full of love and possibilities-where his mother wouldn't have to work so hard to provide for him. Michael Drake entered Elizabeth's thoughts after once promising her the stars but then disappeared like a passing dream. Just the mention of his name set her off in a frenzy of wrath, love, and a residual sense of betrayal. She had tried several times to let his rich family know their grandchild existed. In any case, lost in the impermeable fortress of wealth and prestige covering the Drake government, her prayers were unnoticed. Elizabeth sighed heavily and turned away from Jeremy's side to scurvel toward the kitchenette. Her motions mechanical, her thoughts a tsunami of disappointments and what-uncertainties, she filled the battered pot with water. She grew lost in the memories of that portentous end of the week, the one that had guided her life for eternity as the water simmered. She still clearly smells Michael's perfume, finds solace in his hug, and remembers how his touch had enveloped her whole body. For those brief flashes of love, she was still paying the price day after day, year after year. Jeremy was the pinnacle of that love and a continual reminder of what might have been and what was so viciously snatched from him. Elizabeth was startled back to the present by the high pitched whistle of the kettle, then rapidly poured the scalding water into a chipped mug while the air smelled strongly of chamomile. She held the mug in her tired hands in quest of comfort in its warmth and a little escape from the hard reality she lived. Her brain drifted once again as she sipped the soothing brew, considering the possibility of getting in touch Michael's family once more. Perhaps this time her prayers would be heard, her child's presence acknowledged. But where it counted, she understood the emptiness of such hopes. The Drake world was a fort, impervious to any kind of attack - a struggling single mom hardly scraping by. They lived in different worlds, their worlds separated by a challenging gap of wealth and dignity. Elizabeth's dream was broken by a soft moan from the living area, and she hurried to Jeremy's side as her heart contracted at his wrinkled brow and shutter lips. Dreams seemed to frequent their little house, unwanted guests who targeted her child's naive psyche. She held him in her arms and softly rocked him while singing a calming lullaby to help his whimpers stop and his features reverted to a peaceful slumber. At that moment Elizabeth promised herself she would do all it needed to shield her kid from the terrible reality that had destroyed her own hopes and guarantee his happiness. A steely purpose descended upon Elizabeth as Jeremy's breathing straightened out. She would neither allow the apparitions of her past guide her future nor would she submit to surrender. She would keep on, deliberately, pawing her way toward a better life for her and her child. She got up from the couch deliberately, driven. Looking out at the glittering lights of the metropolis that never dozes, a material of chance seeking her brush, she moved closer the window. She pledged silently tomorrow, her eyes fix with a ferocious assurance. She would start down the path toward achieving her dreams and building a life fit for her son's unbounded future. As the night sky yielded the first hesitant colors of dawn, Elizabeth sensed a spark of hope burn inside her. She would be able to negotiate the hardest of situations with this hope. She would not be refused either as a warrior or a mother. She was unaware, though, that the exact forces she was trying to flee were already rumbling and throwing shadows over her precarious planet. Elizabeth's delicate relationships to her son and the man who had once captured her heart were challenged by a diabolical scheme set against the lavish Drake business. The story would eventually crash catastastically into Elizabeth's life. The players were in place; the stage was set; the battle lines were drawn. Elizabeth's process had hardly begun, and the road forward promised to be a difficult one fraught with calamity, treachery, and maybe just maybe, the potential at reclamation and an adoration that questioned all possibilities. Elizabeth's imagination whirled with possible results, every scenario more daunting than the next. Though she knew they would be many, she was resolved to overcome the challenges ahead for the sake of her son and the life they deserved. Sitting by the window and seeing the city come alive with the sun rising made her uncomfortable. Perhaps the real universe was working against her, throwing many obstacles in her path and testing the limits of her intent. She was startled from her dream by an unexpected sharp rap on the door. Her heart hammered as she gingerly walked up to view through the window. Her breath seized in her throat at what she saw on the other side. She had never seen a man like him before; he was standing there in a perfect suit most likely costing more than her yearly pay. But there was an aura that seemed to radiate riches and power, eerily reminiscent of his steely eye and arrogant tilt of his chin. Elizabeth was unable to shake the idea that this shocking guest was the herald of progress, an impulse that would launch a chain of events that would everlastingly alter the course of her life as her shaking fingers messed with the latch. Her thoughts whirling with questions and doubts, she opened the gateway with a steadying breath. She had no idea the man in front of her was only a pawn in a game that would try the boundaries of her love, her will, even her very life. Elizabeth realized that nothing could at any point be the equivalent once more as their eyes locked and the planet seemed to stop breathing. In that little second.

Elizabeth had painstakingly created a peaceful cocoon around her and her son was disturbed when the phone rang nonstop in the house. Her heart skipped a thump, a glimmer of anxiety flashing across her eyes as she pursued the benefactor, getting ready for still another disappointment. "Hi?" She answered with a voice marked with careful optimism. Speaking on the other side, the woman had a clear, businesslike voice that suggested weight. " Hello, Ms. Parker.

Artist Veronica Hayes of Hamptons Gallery here is Elizabeth's breath seized in her throat as her fingers tightened their hold on the phone. The Hamptons Gallery, a well-known institution having helped many artists start their careers, was a ray of optimism in the sometimes unforgiving environment of the arts. "How might I support you, Ms. Hayes?" Elizabeth made due, her heart pounding against her ribcage like a trapped bird driven for opportunity. "Ms. Parker, it is my great delight to inform you that your portfolio has been selected for our upcoming summer presentation," Veronica said, her words reflecting the weight of a life transforming proclamation. Elizabeth's mind faltered to handle the revelation that had escaped her for so long, momentarily rendering her mute. This was her opportunity to at last release herself from the bonds of obscurity and go front stage in the spotlight she had always wanted. "Much obliged to you," she said, her voice trembling with a fascinating mix of pleasure and mistrust. "You have no idea on how this affects me." Veronica's voice softened somewhat as though she could feel the great influence her words would have. The unvarnished passion and vulnerability in your art enthralled us. Your work powerfully and hauntingly captures the human experience in beauty. Elizabeth felt a flash of pride swell in her breast from the many hours she had spent honing her trade, the sacrifices she had made, and the ambitions she had fostered against hardship. As the call ended and the details of the exhibition were under discussion, Elizabeth discovered she was surrounded by a sea of conflicting sensations. She felt excited, a bubbly liquid that seemed ready to consume her entire body. This was her second, her chance to show the world-and maybe even to herself-that she was a real craftsman with a voice asking to be heard, not just a striving single parent. But as the moment's exhilaration started to wane, a creeping sensation of anxiety started to set in. She had only seen from far-off The Hamptons, a bastion of luxury and riches where the wealthy gathered to savor their limited pleasures. She had deliberately kept away from a world she had thought about, driven by a delusional anxiety of being engulfed in its glitter and the challenging memories it brought up. Elizabeth's thoughts strayed to her beloved son Jeremy, whose naive eyes lacked the awareness of the socioeconomic differences separating them from the few fortunate people. Regarding the sharp differences they were going to encounter-that between their meager way of life and the extravagant luxuries they would encounter-what would she say to him? Jeremy's melodic laughter, from the living room as if beckoned by her thoughts, calmed her strained nerves. Elizabeth got up from her seat, her steps guiding her to the source of that happy melody; her heart grew with a love so pure that it stretched across all limits. Her voice full of mother loving, she yelled, "Jeremy, my darling." The young man's eyes glowed with unquenchable curiosity as his cherubic face lit upon his mother. Mothers? Indeed? Elizabeth dropped herself to his level and gave him a loving hug that, in a manner words could not have, expressed her love for him. She started by Her voice somewhat quivering from the weight of her emotions, "I have some exciting news to share with you." Jeremy's eyes widened and his elements fell with expectation. "What is it, Mom? Let me know!" Elizabeth took a long breath and revealed the news that had set her heart ablaze simple minutes before, calling each ounce of her boldness. "My work has been chosen for a Hamptons summertime unique exhibition." The young man's temple wrinkled in chaos, his guiltless intellect straying with the consequences of this revelation. Where in the Hamptons is it?" Elizabeth smiled, her joy growing at the possibility to show her son the world outside their small apartment. "People visit The Hamptons to appreciate art and honor the skill of creators like your mama," adds one. "This is a lovely location." Jeremy's face came alive with understanding and his eyes gleamed with pure delight. Really, Mama! That is remarkable! I'm overjoyed for you! At that particular moment Elizabeth was overcome with thanks for her son's unflinching love and encouragement. He was her anchor, her excuse for continuing through the darkest of storms, and his unwavering belief in her was an unrestricted supporting force. Elizabeth let herself dream while she cradled him close and savored his embrace. She dreamed of a time when her name would be respected, her skills acknowledged, and her hardships would only be far echoes. She loved these quirky thoughts, but even so, a niggling voice in her sub-conscience mumbled an admonition, a sign of the cruel real elements that had created her life thus far. The Hamptons addressed was more than just a famous performance; it was a passage to a world she had since long ago betrayed, one that hung onto the phantoms of her past and the specter of the one who had shattered her heart. Unimaginable as mother and son basked in the sunshine of their shared happiness were the turbulent road ahead and the forces already seething in the shadows about to upend their lives in ways they could hardly comprehend. A storm was building, a tempest of secrets, betrayals, and long-buried facts threatening to rip apart Elizabeth's delicate fabric in the Hamptons, where wealth and privilege dominated. A guy from her past also lurked at the core of this maelstrom; his very presence might either save her or send her down a pit from which she would never be able to climb back. Elizabeth held her kid close as the sun sank beneath the skyline, throwing its vivid hues across the metropolitan horizon. She savored the fleeting moments of serenity before the storm. Deep down in her spirit, she knew the quiet would not last, the winds of change were gathering force, and the journey ahead would be dangerous and painful. For now, though, they were safe in the haven of their modest house, savoring the hope of a great future and the love. They were unaware that the storm was already upon them and that the reckoning they had both sought and avoided was fast upon them. Its fierce steps were inexorable and echoing throughout the halls of time.