Those azuline eyes, they have left an haunting imprint on my mind. But my mind shouldn't have an haunting imprint...certainly not an Mitch Heston haunting imprint, anyway.

He said I looked different, but he was different too.

I would even go as far to saying that Mitch Heston was actually charming. Unlike Perky Perkins, ten years have been truly very kind to him. Extremely kind. Yep, Mitch Heston has indeed retained all of his good looks. He has gorgeously matured into them. With that film star face of his, he is bona fide handsome.

Handsome.

Personable.

Charismatic.

Hot.

Masculine.

Well presented.

Polite.

Have I already said hot?

Nope! Not going there, Rebecca! Not going there at all! Is what the rational judgement of my mind now yells to me.

Before the possibility of me turning into a smitten groupie with the vast majority of all the other women here, I decide that it is indeed my time to go. I've had a surprisingly good time, but I've already said my goodbye's to Laura and a few others—now, I'm officially all peopled out.

In my much higher than usual heels, I casually make my way towards the entrance of the main hall. With graceful strides, I am so nearly there. It has been quite a pleasant trip down memory lane, but I'll not miss Nortonhill once I have finally left it.

I have come so far from the inadequate and skinny teenager that I used to be. I've worked hard to be a confident and self-providing woman. In my teens, my own happiness was so sadly dependent on others, now as an adult, I am solely responsible for my very own happiness. And I am happy. I own my own business. I own my own house. I drive a car that I paid for with my own earnings. I buy my own clothes. I buy food to put on my own dining table. I am in charge of my own bank account and in charge of my own destiny...and I'm damn proud of that.

I have achieved so much in my twenty six years of life. When I was a teen, I grew up believing that you either had to be a man or be with a man, to be greatly successful. I was so glad to be wrong.

I think my ideas were born from the fact that my father always used to work in his study for hours and hours at a time, while mum couldn't work or earn as much as he ever could, because she was the one who took care of the house, her infirm parents, and also me. There were times when I would look at her, and just think how tired and defeated she often looked. She was professionally, emotionally and physically, always spreading herself far too thin. Then two years ago, mum lost both her parents within eight weeks of one another, and as sad as it was to lose my lovely grandparents; I felt nothing but relief for my dearest mum.

For years, she has worked as an accountant, overseen all of the care that both her parents once needed from their community carers, she was in charge of their finances and all of their bills, she has cooked, cleaned, washed, tidied, tended to everything and everyone who ever needed tending to—she's been bloody amazing.

I could never be my mum's kind of amazing.

I am not made with the same selflessness that she's always had.

Unlike my mum, I'm not maternal at all. Kids, they are most definitely something that I don't have planned in my future. I am purely focused only on my career.

On my career, and myself.

"You're leaving, I see?" A smooth voice is soon tugging me away from all of my thoughts.

Surprised to see Mitch again, my startled reply expresses that. "Oh! Yes...yes, I'm definitely now...going." Awkwardly, I am stupidly now grinning and grimacing at the same awkward time. It's grinacing, at its most embarrassing. What is happening to meeeeeeeeee? I inwardly wonder.

"How about we both get out of here?" Mitch suddenly asks, casually slipping both of his hands into his tailored trousers with an, just as casual, smile.

Stunned, my head kind of just moves back slightly. "What, like together?"

Mitch laughs, softly and lowly. "That was kind of the idea, yes."

Okay. I am officially dumbfounded—flattered but completely dumbfounded. "Are you being serious?" I have to ask, because I just don't understand what is actually now going on.

The smile from Mitch's mouth simply fades away from his amiable lips. "I'm being deadly serious."

Blinking away all of my disbelief, I have to now say what is stuck within the confines of my throat. "Don't you remember how much you used to tease me? How much it used to ruin my days at school?" Calmly, he acknowledges that he does with an apologetic nod of his handsome head. "So why? Why would you want to spend any amount of time with me now, when the only time you gave to me when we were last in this place, was of the horrible kind?"

Mitch feels the need to step closer, in order for what he has to say to me next. "Because the immature teenage boy that I used to be, is currently having his pathetic little ass kicked by the man that I now am." His blue gaze, mellows more upon me. "I know I was an idiot who treated you badly at school. I'd like to take this opportunity to apologise for that, and I'd really like it if you'd accompany me for a drink?"

There's no two ways about it—I'm deeply flattered.

But am I really flattered enough to accompany Mitch for that drink?

"I appreciate both the apology and the kind offer of a drink, but I really just want to get home." It would appear not.

Respectfully, he steps back a little. "I'm only here until tomorrow, so that's a shame," he says, a smile now slowly lifting just the one corner of his dejected mouth. "I expect you have someone to get back home for?" He curiously then asks, testing whether I'll answer him or not.

Lifting my chin, I quickly do. "I do indeed."

Tilting his head, Mitch purses his lips with a frown. "Thought you might," he knowingly but quietly says.

"His name is Jaws. He's my Black Moor goldfish." Then, I start grinning at the slightly fed up looking Mr Famous.

Lifting his shoulders more confidently back, Mitch is now broadly smiling across at me. "Are you sure I can't tempt you with that drink?"

Grateful to have finally gotten an apology from Mitch Heston, and very grateful to have had my womanly ego stroked by the very same man, I am more than happy to just leave it at that. "You have, but the answer still has to be no. Goodnight, Mitch." With a warm and sassy smile, I stroll out of the main hall and out of the presence of Mitch Heston.

He surprisingly has impressed me.

He surprisingly has flattered me.

But he surprisingly doesn't get to spend time with me.