Dreams Come True

1 and 2. A special gift

Sabrina witnessed herself giggling and running, engaged in a playful pursuit with an incredibly handsome man. A broad smile illuminated her face as she observed the striking individual grinning at her.

"Are you sure I can't catch you?" the mesmerizing figure smirked.

"Positive. And when it comes to you, I fear no consequences," she responded, her heart pounding in her chest, as the captivating person strode closer, maintaining that enigmatic grin.

"Then you can't hold me responsible for what I'm about to do next. Remember, you granted me permission to proceed," he proclaimed.

Sabrina gulped, avoiding his entrancing gaze, her eyes darting everywhere but his deep, captivating eyes. She gradually retreated, until her back met the wall. Without delay, the enigmatic man enclosed her within his arms.

"Now, what were we saying?" he grinned.

"What do you intend to do?" Sabrina inquired.

"Nothing that won't bring you pleasure," he assured.

Sabrina arched an eyebrow, finally locking her gaze with his captivating eyes. She found herself captivated by their allure, unaware of the hint of mischief lurking within.

Suddenly, Sabrina squealed as something, or rather someone, poked her stomach.

"Stop! You can't do that," she attempted to escape but found herself trapped with no way out.

"Are you ticklish?" he questioned.

"Yup, and don't you dare exploit that vulnerability," Sabrina warned firmly.

"Not at all," he replied, though his eyes betrayed his true intentions.

Before long, they found themselves rolling on the ground. Sabrina dodged his playful assaults, while he skillfully held her hands above her head. Despite her efforts to break free, Sabrina's attempts proved futile.

"Stop... Stop, I give up."

"Stop!!!" And just like that, Sabrina awoke from yet another dream, a smile gracing her lips, as had become a familiar occurrence.

Sitting on her bed, she brushed her hair aside and covered her face with her hands, contemplating the identity of the recurring enigmatic figure who had appeared three times in her dreams over the past week.

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Sabrina's POV:

Like clockwork, his face refuses to leave my mind. My thoughts inevitably return to his angelic visage, pondering how a mere stranger appearing in my dreams could effortlessly bring a smile to my face-a smile that has eluded me for the past three months.

But that smile vanishes as my mind veers back to what happened six months ago, and an unbidden tear escapes my eyes.

Just six months ago, I had everything. I was living a happy and content life with my small, blissful family. My parents were overjoyed and proud of me. However, in the blink of an eye, everything was taken away from me.

**It was six months ago...**

Sabrina felt elation after exposing the true face of a monster to the world, satisfied that she could bring justice to the victims whom Rick Orleans had harmed. She had received the news that Rick Orleans was now behind bars, all thanks to her meticulous research.

Sabrina was on her way to share this achievement with her parents, driving with a serene smile on her face. Yet, her heart remained restless, a lingering thought since morning as if something dreadful was about to transpire.

Just a few blocks away from her house, she received a phone call that turned her world upside down. The caller informed her that her parents had been in a car accident and were rushed to the emergency room.

Without hesitation, she raced to the hospital, only to find them taking their last breaths. She cried, mourned, and pleaded with her parents not to leave her alone. Alas, her pleas fell on deaf ears as they departed, leaving her to face the world on her own.

Her mother, Evelyn, departed without a farewell. Her father left Sabrina with a final piece of advice that resonated in her ears.

"Always seek happiness and refuse to let sorrow overpower your compassion. Remember, this pain will eventually fade, transforming you into someone whom everyone will admire. In the end, it will all be worth it," Mr. Jayden Kline whispered before closing his eyes.

The weight of those words settled upon Sabrina's shoulders, shaping her path forward as she vowed to honor her parents' memory and find solace amidst the trials that lay ahead.

Present...

No matter how many months have passed, the pain and loneliness still feel as fresh as if everything had happened just yesterday. Without my "Angel," the man I dream of who serves as my guardian angel, I doubt I could have come this far. It was three months after my parents' deaths that I found myself exhausted, crying my heart out, and falling into an unexpected slumber-the first time I encountered my angel.

Initially, I was perplexed by his demeanor, something I had never experienced before. His chocolate-brown eyes held an inexplicable allure, drawing me toward him. The next day, for the first time in months, I felt alive. Thoughts of this handsome stranger consumed my mind, his laughter and smirk lingering in my thoughts without respite.

Night after night, I anticipated his presence near the bridge where I would often find him waiting for me as I exited a building. In my dreams, he would smile as soon as he caught sight of me standing there. However, that moment never materialized. After waiting for a week, I dismissed those thoughts, believing them to be figments of my imagination.

Another three days passed without a sign, and despair threatened to pull me back into my depressive state. Then, I saw him again. It felt surreal when he asked me why I was waiting for him, and I could only shrug my shoulders in response. Being in his presence brought warmth, and as he held me in his arms, I felt a sense of belonging.

Since then, I have sporadically encountered my angel, each time falling deeper for him without realizing it. I searched for his face everywhere but found no one even remotely resembling him. Nevertheless, I have accepted this reality and am willing to wait as long as it takes.

Now, it is time for me to leave for work-an activity that serves as a distraction from my afflictions. I prepare myself, opting for modest attire: a simple, full-sleeved top paired with black jeans. With a light touch of makeup, including sunscreen, a touch of blush, and some mascara to enhance my naturally voluminous lashes, I complete my look with a hint of lip gloss on my pink lips. I leave my hair cascading in natural curls, as my angel once mentioned that I looked better with my hair down.

I retrieve my bag from the closet and swiftly fill it with the essentials. With a heavy heart, I leave what I once called home, although it never truly felt like one. Home should be a sanctuary, a place where happiness resides, a place where someone eagerly awaits your return. But as I gaze ahead, all I see is an abandoned structure, its picket fence a faint reminder of the once joyful family that dwelled within.

Letting out a sigh, I reach for my phone and dial Stacy's number. Stacy, my assistant journalist and acquaintance, picks up on the other end.

"Good morning, Stacy. I hope you're doing well," I greet her.

"Good morning, ma'am. I'm doing fine. How about you?" Stacy's voice resonates through the phone.

"I'm hanging in there. Could you please confirm with Mr. Finn where I need to report today?" I inquire, seeking clarity.

"Just a moment, ma'am. Let me find out for you," Stacy replies, and I hear the sound of papers shuffling in the background.

After a brief pause, the shuffling resumes, and Stacy returns to the call. "Yes, Mr. Finn requests your presence at his office. He mentioned that he has a few important matters to discuss with you."

"Alright, thank you for your assistance, Stacy," I acknowledge her response. "By the way, how many times do I have to remind you to address me by my name?"

Stacy lets out an apologetic sigh. "I'm sorry, I'll make sure not to forget again. My apologies."

With a mix of nostalgia and pain, I step into my sleek black Audi, a gift from my father on my twentieth birthday, which was only eight months ago. Sitting behind the wheel always reopens old wounds, prompting me to reminisce about the moment he handed me the keys, etching that memory into my mind.

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"Papa!!! Where is my gift?" I huffed, feeling a mix of excitement and annoyance as my parents teased me about not having bought any gifts for my birthday.

"Suits you!!! You thought your Papa wouldn't bring any gift for you. So be it. I am not going to show you what I got." Dad feigned hurt, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Jade, stop troubling my baby and show her already what we have for her." Mom supported me, her voice filled with amusement.

"What's the fun in that, Lyn?" Dad winked at Mom, keeping up the suspense.

And just like that, I was blindfolded and led into our backyard. Without removing the blindfold, Dad handed me something that I could feel was the key to something special.

When the blindfold was finally taken off, I couldn't believe my eyes. Standing in front of me was a beautiful black Audi R8, my all-time favorite car. I had always been skeptical about asking for it, as I wanted to buy it with my hard-earned money.

But my parents had heard my unspoken wishes, and there it was, gleaming before me, with 'Iris' written in bold on the number plate, the endearing nickname my parents had always called me.

"Did you like it, Iris?" Dad asked, his eyes filled with anticipation.

I couldn't contain my happiness. I lunged forward and engulfed Dad in a tight hug, feeling overwhelming joy bubbling inside me.

"I loved it, Papa! Thank you, thank you. You're the best! I love you," I chimed, my voice filled with gratitude and excitement as I planted a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you too, my princess," he replied, his voice filled with affection as he kissed my forehead tenderly.

"Look who they are forgetting. Hey, I was the one who suggested the idea to get this as a birthday gift," Mom pouted playfully, pretending to feel left out.

"Come on, honey, nobody is forgetting you," Dad reassured her, a smile playing on his lips.

"But listen, you two. I would have rather bought this with my own money. You guys have spoiled me way too much," I expressed, feeling a twinge of guilt amidst my joy.

"Oh, come on. Who would we spoil if not for our only daughter?" They said it in unison, their voices filled with warmth and love.

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Every time I see their belongings, it stirs up a mix of emotions within me-feelings I wish I could avoid. Yet, paradoxically, these are also the moments I cherish the most. My parents left behind everything they owned, from my dad's chain of restaurants scattered across the city to my mom's renowned art gallery.

They bequeathed me fortunes that I can access once I turn 21, which is rapidly approaching. But what they didn't leave me with was their presence, the one thing I long for the most. They did everything for me and taught me everything, except how to live without them. And as for Mom, she didn't even bid me goodbye. How cruel life can be at times.

If even one of them were alive, I could gather the strength to pick myself up and process everything slowly. However, they both departed simultaneously, leaving me entirely on my own. I didn't realize how long I stood there, weeping for the loss that engulfed my life. But I have to gather myself and leave for work.

After wiping away my tears and fixing my tear-streaked, makeup-smudged face, I step into my car and begin my journey to work. After all, this is what they always wanted-for me to succeed and be happy.

That's my purpose now-to make them proud. And nothing can deter me from achieving that. There's no way I will stop. What else could possibly go wrong? I have nothing to lose.

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As I stepped out of the car, I spotted Stacey standing at the entrance of the office, looking towards me.

"I wish I could get my hands on the beast behind you one day," she commented, casting a longing gaze at the car that I rarely had the chance to drive as a journalist. Despite the attention it would attract, I felt the urge to take it out today after keeping it idle for so long.

"You know, you can give it a try anytime. I wouldn't mind," I responded, offering her the opportunity.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I can't handle a bicycle to save my life," she chuckled, acknowledging her lack of driving skills.

"By the way, Mr. Finn is expecting you. He mentioned having something important to discuss," Stacey informed me, her tone conveying a sense of urgency. With that, I made my way inside the office, curious about what this grumpy old man had on his mind. His use of that particular tone usually indicated a matter of great significance.

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