Only Two Of Us Read online

  Only Two Of Us

  Cassandra Russell

  Copyright 2018

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Description

  A passion igniting after more than a century of darkness. A disease erasing the light of a lifetime. Only his bite could heal her. Only his blood type would be able to kill him. How could such an unlikely love survive?

  What would you be able to give up to save someone and experience, even for a short time, a love never felt before? Of the healing of thousands of humans? Of life itself? Stephanie had every reason in the world not to believe in mythical beings or happiness, but will find out she was totally mistaken. Your soul mate exists! The problem is that the timeline separating it from eternal love is very tenuous. And only a miracle can unite them again.

  " only two of us" is a full length 95000 words, It is Romance Fiction

  No matter what the world is going on Everything is just two of us.

  Contents

  Copyright 2018

  Description

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Bonus

  Chapater 1

  About the author

  Prologue

  No matter what eternity it takes until true love is found, but the intensity with which it

  we feel it when it manifests itself in our lives ...

  Chapter 1

  Life is really a very strange thing ...

  Until very recently, I would have been amused if someone had told me that I would live in a pension in São Paulo

  humble, counting pennies to fill in the bills for the month and putting together the leftovers from the day

  above to make a sandwich with an obdurate appearance.

  That would be a real joke, and in bad taste.

  I'm from Rio and I always lived close to the beach. The sea was a constant landscape in my life.

  He liked to go through it every day, if only to contemplate its power. It was

  immense, mysterious, a true force of nature. That salty breeze always brought hope

  more, a lullaby, a breath of life.

  I did not consider myself a patricinha, although I had a very comfortable life.

  I've never been rich either.

  I had a normal house in a quiet neighborhood, a bedroom with a suite, a current computer and some

  superfluous things. I have already reached the height of the luxury of having periodical magazines, whose

  I often did not even remember opening it.

  In fact, I did not miss anything material, that did not complete me. But there was a void

  in me, some kind of hole, a gap that I could not fill.

  At that time, I was in my twenties. I had already given a college entrance exam to Nutrition and I even thought

  in other professions, however, there was always a doubt. It was never what I wanted, I lost

  literally the stimulus the moment he could get through the first step.

  She was lost, then, between classes, classes in English, Spanish and a photography course, which was, until the

  present moment, the only hobby that gave me any pleasure. There was therefore no need to

  work, but spent most of the day outside the house to the point of sometimes even noticing that

  I did not talk to my mother or my little brother for days.

  At night, when I arrived, I would end up locking myself in the bedroom, sometimes to reveal the photographs in a

  that I prepared exclusively for this, or to talk to my best friend Anne

  hours on MSN.

  Anne was the only friend I knew, the one I knew she could open to me and who

  he undeniably knew me. I mean, maybe I could never undress my soul in a way

  so explicit or direct to someone, but still, she captured my signals as if we were

  tuned at the same frequency. Long-range waves.

  Sometimes I looked like a fish out of water. He missed having a goal, making plans for the

  future. It was nowhere in the world. Life was nothing more than a mere routine,

  watery It was like drinking beer. Everything happened in the same way, and all the

  holy day

  Nothing changed, even me.

  At first, the relationship with my mother was somewhat difficult. Not because she did something concrete

  so that I would feel this way. Not because she had exchanged my father for another man with a

  financial situation. Actually, that did not really affect me, because Dad ended up sending

  enough to pay for my courses, banal things, and there was still enough for me to

  help with expenses when needed. Maybe the guilt was tangled in me.

  it. Maybe I wanted to be born different, a little more like her. Not by the side

  emotional or sentimental - in this until I thought myself a stable person - but by the physical aspect

  same.

  I was not ugly, just ... ordinary.

  He knew he could attract a lot of boys. Well, let's just say not the nicest ones. However,

  This was what interested me, although I did not know specifically what I was looking for in them, or

  I really wanted to look for something.

  But between us ...

  I wish I had inherited that blonde-gray curly hair that looked more like it

  of a commercial of shampoo, instead of that smoothness that barely held a clamp ...

  He could also have been born with that silky skin. This would have prevented me from embarrassing

  early adolescence, as well as all comings and goings to the dermatologist. And God knows that, no matter how much

  ing a ton of food, he could not have a guitar body like hers.

  My mother was a diva, it seemed that she was already born perfect. It was no wonder that for a long time

  worked as a photographic model, of those in whom we drool when we see the novelties in the

  world of fashion or in makeup ads. His golden brown eyes were the most

  they called attention to his face.

  I was never envious of her, on the contrary, I was very proud. Only there were times when I heard

  certain comparisons used to be very difficult, especially when age still does not allow deletion

  that which bothers us without ceasing to cause any damage to the subconscious.

  I still remember one year when, when I came home from school - I should have been around thirteen

  - I ended up hearing a not inconspicuous comment between two of my mother's acquaintances:

  "Look, Vera. Do you recognize that girl who just crossed the street now? Said one of them.

  in a tone of disapproval, forgetting that adolescents generally have good hearing.

 
- No. Who is it? The other disguised, watching me out of the corner of my eye.

  - Really, without a tip it gets really difficult. She looks nothing like her mother. Sometimes I stay

  wondering if it's not adopted, but I've never had the guts to talk to Rachel about this

  subject matter.

  "Wait a minute. That's Stephanie." "Mom always loved this crude thing of foreignisms in

  names, including hers and my father's - Rachel's eldest daughter? He asked, demonstrating

  evident disbelief.

  "I knew you'd be surprised." And no less...

  "Yeah, well, I think you might be right. It's kind of cute, but ... "She twisted her nose. -

  Do you know the father?

  A little addition: Funny is the term that people use to try to define someone who does not

  has many physical attractions but can meet their lack with sympathy or education. That is, my

  case.

  I know you. He always appeared at the beginning of the school holidays and took his daughter to travel with her.

  family. I have not seen him lately, "she said thoughtfully.

  She did not want to wait to hear the rest of the conversation. I am not iron.

  Certain comments served as a full plate so that I would more and more close. Mom, poor thing,

  it was not my fault, only that I inevitably felt better when I spent my days with my father. AND

  these small moments were restricted to only a few days of my vacations, since we lived in

  countries and his work was quite important in medicine.

  My father is a hematologist.

  Not a name out of thousands around the world, but the famous Dr. Allan Wernyeck, a

  of the best doctors and researchers within your area, a brilliant professional. Spent his days

  between laboratories and hospitals, committed to discover the cure of various diseases of order

  blood; was often requested by experts from other countries to give courses and lectures

  about their specialty. It was very common for me to stay weeks or even months without talking to him,

  that travel was constantly happening. However, whenever we were together, it seemed that

  all that interval had been annulled, so great was our affinity.

  From time to time, he thought of moving in with him, though he did not reside there, so to speak.

  It has also never been easy to face the inquisitive gaze of her current companion. It seemed that she had

  fear that I would rob him or something of the sort, an irrational thing. Janet was so jealous of him that

  Sometimes I kept asking myself if the whole problem was in the affectionate way he

  people, in their radiant sympathy or simply because their insecurity or immaturity does not

  let reason. To my mind, that was not the point. She appeared to be much younger, more beautiful,

  He also worked as an assistant in a Hemotherapy Center where my father also had

  society.

  In short, he had his knife and cheese in his hand.

  Well, apart from that, I thought intimately that my biggest problem in residing abroad was the fact that

  I can not stay away from my little brother.

  Juninho was one of those children who were born doomed to happiness. Although it had a small defect

  congenital on the feet that made him constantly change his boots and needed treatment

  physiotherapist, the guri was very intelligent, caring and knew how to conquer anyone with a simple

  little smile He was, in fact, my half brother, my mother's son with the photographer he fell in love with

  a few years ago during one of those ridiculous photo shoots, with a pink hat on her head and

  a little hand underneath the chin, which the mothers are keen to pass us by.

  Nor did he blame her for that.

  My father, though considerate and kind, was a very absent person, and she, particularly needy. THE

  Otávio's presence reinvigorated her. There was no shortage of comparing my mother to before - sad,

  careless, discouraged - with the one that happened to be later - radiant, active and happy. I loved her

  much, could not bear to see her like that.

  As for Otavio, I think I should thank him for the good he did to her. And not only for this, but

  also for having transferred me, by osmosis, this small aptitude for photographing. I suppose that

  really good in the business, or imagine that you would not have won three contests by clicking people on

  unforeseeable moments associated with elements of nature, and without making much effort.

  I think that only on those occasions could I be distracted or happy, if that is what

  they call happiness. I would be able to spend hours and hours analyzing the best angle, the direction of the light, the

  focus...

  And I always came home with something new, something that would help me out of that doldrums

  which surrounded my life.

  Chapter 2

  I never forgot the day I arrived at my house with a newspaper in my hands that talked about a

  photography contest; in him the winner would win as a prize a plane ticket to Florida.

  It was the first time that I decided to commit myself to conquer something.

  I think I was a bit obsessed.

  I wanted to convince myself that it seemed like a unique chance to show some kind of skill or

  talent, but I think that what really motivated me was the fact that I had a concrete reason

  or an excuse to visit my father.

  Of course, if I asked, he would never deny me a Rio-Miami-Rio passage. In fact, he never denied it.

  But this time I did not want it. I wanted to be able to conquer this passage, to feel myself able to go deep

  on something and grab it with his bare hands. Then, that day, I decided that the prize would be

  my.

  I have carefully researched the theme: something like finding beauty and happiness within the

  miserable poverty.

  Weird.

  It did not seem very easy to understand. After all, how do you find happiness within penury,

  hunger, of neglect? I owned everything, and yet I never found anything in my life that gave any

  meaning to this word. Perhaps this was not about the social condition of people, but about their

  spirit or state of soul ...

  I was lucky enough to choose a Rio shantytown to photograph in the midst of that chaos

  messy I looked at different angles, different people, and ended up finding a shack whose clothes

  Hanging hangers on the clothesline swayed in the wind in a pinkish evening, flanked by an almond tree.

  In the background was an old woman with a wrinkled face, sitting in a wooden crate, smoking

  a strawberry cigarette and at the same time smiling ... a grin without teeth.

  What made that person smile?

  The way I saw her, I had no doubt that this was the pose I expected. This would be the photo that

  would lead me to meet my father, only on my merit.

  And he gave no other.

  It was enough to get the result in the newspaper and I was already running all the way home, more

  specifically towards the phone from my room. I really wanted to talk to him. I wanted some

  way he was proud of me. I was so anxious that I could barely dial your phone number

  correctly. In fact, in the eagerness to do it, I ended up wandering twice.

  - Hello, Dad! I snorted, practically out of breath.

  "Stephanie, is that you?" What happened? He asked worriedly.

  "Yes, Father, it's me," I said again, almost choking, as if I did not have enough time to

  that. - I have some great news to give you!

  "Say, my love, I'm all ears. His voice sounded much more relieved.

&nbs
p; - I had not commented before to not create expectations, but I entered a photo contest and

  I ended up taking the first prize!

  - Wow! Congratulations! You really have talent! He praised.

  "And guess what the prize is?" I asked.

  "I have no idea, but it must be a good thing to make my baby so happy."

  - That's right. I won a return ticket to Miami! Now I will be able to visit you! -

  I expressed my joy.

  - How wonderful! I can not wait to give you a hug! He returned. - When you come?

  "I'm not sure yet, Father, I just heard it's June." Maybe you can mark the passage.

  for after the Corpus Christi holiday.

  "Let me know as soon as I know, so I can reserve a few days to take you to Fort Lauderdale."

  I have found a photographic materials store that will leave you jaw-dropping. Only one section I saw

  lenses and special lenses is the size of an entire store there in Brazil! And there's still that restaurant

  Japanese that you love so much ... "he said, leaving me mouth watering.

  "Oh ... After these promises, I do not think I'll even be able to sleep there.

  "I said too much, did not I?" She must have kept her mouth shut, so the surprise would be greater. -

  He sketched a tone of regret.

  "No, Father. I do not need any of this to be happy. Just having a little time with my dad

  is more than enough.

  "And you happen to have another father?"

  It was a hint. I knew who he meant.

  - Of course not! You are irreplaceable! You know I love you...

  Of course. I love you too, my dear. I ... "He paused and I could hear the sound of his

  cellphone ringing.

  Sorry, love, I need to hang up now. Looks like there was some emergency at the hospital. I call

  For you later, okay? Give your mother some remembrance ... "he said good-bye.

  - OK! A kiss! - finished.

  After I hung up the phone, I remembered, embarrassed by the blunder, that I had not yet spoken to her.

  mom. And by the volume of my voice, I guessed that she already knew.

  I descended the stairs slowly, seeking to remain calm and composed, and before reaching below,

  I saw the figure of her standing there, with a lost look in front of the living room window.