I found myself frozen in place, gazing at the open door. Mr. Smith stepped into my room. “Please let me explain,” he urged, referring to his sudden change. His blue eyes scanned my room, hinting that he suspected Melanie had been there, yet he seemed oddly unconcerned about it now. His focus was on me, and he noticed the tears cascading down my face; I quickly brushed them away with my hand and sat on my bed.
“Why did you take that body?” I looked at him, bewildered and echoed the question, “Why that body?” He came over and sat beside me. He pulled me close and softly kissed my lips. I wrapped my arms around him and noticed how sharp he looked in his light brown coat, a grey T-shirt, and jeans paired with black high-top sneakers. His short light brown hair was neatly styled, and his stunning blue eyes shone brightly as he gazed into mine. He doesn’t resemble the young man who shot him in 1936 San Francisco. He looks clean, and well-groomed. He let out a deep sigh and said, “Remi, I never intended to frighten you. I had no idea how my change would impact you. I’m really sorry. I didn’t want to abandon you here, but I wanted to give you time to think,” he paused.
“Yes, I should’ve been here when
you woke up so we could talk about what happened. I genuinely apologize.” I
nodded, taking in his words. After a moment, I finally said, “This is so
overwhelming. It feels weird talking to the young man who shot you, but here we
are. I apologize if I seemed a bit off; it’s just that…,”
He cut in, “It’s the surprise of
seeing me in a different body that threw you off. I understand. I need you to know,
that I feel changed, somewhat—there’s a piece of that young man inside me, but
I’m still me, your Mr. Smith.”
I asked him, “What was that man
truly like,” I paused then said, “I can’t help but think some part of him
lingered when you took his body.”
He exhaled deeply and said, "He was 25, out of
work, and resorted to stealing out of sheer desperation. Life was tough during
the 1930s, and he was struggling to get by, living on the streets and doing
whatever it took to survive.” I nodded in understanding, releasing a sigh as I
wiped away the tears that had formed in my eyes. He grasped my hand softly and
pressed a tender kiss on it. His stunning blue eyes locked onto mine, and I
could sense his intentions. Yet a wave of uncertainty washed over me; I wasn't
sure if I was prepared to dive into intimacy with him just yet.
(This novel is written in first person however, that last three chapters of the book moves over to third person since the chapters takes place 200 years after Remi passed away and Mr. Smith is in his 5th incarnation.)
