I sat by the window overlooking the sea, my leather-bound diary clutched in my hands. Should I really do this? Relive my gorgy past? My mind wandered back to the phone call I received mere minutes ago. And I knew I should. With trembling hands, I unclasped the worn book, and as I flipped open the first page, the surroundings melted away, and I could almost see what it was like when I was sixteen, ten years ago. The living room changed, my hands were more delicate and when I opened my eyes, I saw my school; the place where it all started.
My name is Anna Smith. And ten years ago, I had met someone online. A boy named Nico. He was my age and French. I was genuinely delighted meeting him, as it was so rare to find someone remotely civilized on the Net. But I only chatted with him once. And then, I never heard of him again.
Almost three months later, a new student came to my school. Nils Allen. He wasn’t from the States, but he would never tell where he actually came from. Even a single person. His accent was hard to place, yet pleasant. But what shocked me was that the principal had ordered me to stick with him for a month, on the excuse that he wasn’t used to the new surroundings. I had to be his friend, following him wherever he went. At first, I was furious, but as I spend more time with Nils, my perception towards him changed. He was a nice guy; protective and a good listener. I owed him so many times. He once saved me from almost being hit by a car, beat the crap out of a guy who tried to kidnap me, and rescued me when I almost drowned.
People said we look cute together, but he was just a friend. But the feeling eventually warmed into something more. And I realized I had fallen for him. The idea itself was preposterous as I had distance myself from every guy since my ex-boyfriend Taylor, betrayed me. But when Nils  got on one knee, asking me to be his girlfriend and to be his date at the upcoming prom, I answered yes without a sliver of doubt.
The senior prom was the best night of my life. But people had other plans. At the very moment before Nils began to kiss me for the first time, the hall was swarmed with the police, and helicopters circled above the school.  A couple of them had yanked Nils away from him, and dragged him to an armored vehicle. I had screamed and begged them to let him go. And that was when I felt a sharp stab on my arm, and the whole world went pitch black.
I woke up in an interrogation room, with an elderly Frenchman sitting across me. He apologized, and began to explain everything. Nils was actually Nico, the boy I had chatted online. His real name was Prince Nicholas the Third, heir to the throne of France. But Nicholas didn’t want to be king, and resolved to run away. But he didn’t know where to go. That was when he thought of the girl whom he had chatted with so briefly. He ordered his guardian, Stefan- the man in front of me- to locate her. He changed his identity, went to America and befriended the girl. He tasted life for the first time. But the royal family had found him, and Nicholas was to be punished for his abrasive action. As for me, I was free to go. A victim by chance. And the last time I saw him.
So I did. I went home, numbed by the turn of events. The French government apologized to me, giving me 10 000 Euros for compensation. And I was haunted by Nils, Nicholas’ face every night. And now, I am twenty-six, and still I could not forget him.
And today was the day of the capture, ten years ago. I was making tea when the phone rang. I picked it up. There were so many noises, people blabbering and shouting in French. Wait…French? Before I could speak, I heard Stefan. He said that Prince Nicholas had been given full pardon. Nicholas wanted to see me. He’s coming right now.
I froze, speechless. And I hear him. How could I forget that lovely voice, lacing through my dreams? The sound of his breathing sent tingles down my spine. I wait for the long speech of apology, the begging and excuse. All I know is I had forgiven him and I wish we would meet again one day. Yes, it’s about to happen. I’m going to meet the person I loved after ten years. But I only heard two words. My heart raced.
 “J’amour… Anna.” And the line went dead.
My French was pretty rusty. But I know the meaning well.
It meant; I love you Anna.

We met at the place he mentioned. At the airport. I searched for him.


Our eyes met. I ran into his arms.


He whispered to my ears, "I miss you. Please be the one that fills up my life. I love you."


Crystal clear tears starts rolling down my cheeks,


"I love you too."