It was the old LeGovic's home, once, most spectacular house in the city, now nothing but ruins, abandoned, forgotten by the changing times, forgotten by the people, simply devoured by the gray mass of urbanization.
Isabelle recalled the time she spent in that place, as the daughter of one of the maids; she was not rich, but thanks to the work of her mother, she could enjoy some stability in her life and, to her social class, something as simple as a place to live, well… it was already a luxury.
She had heard that the house would be demolished, and she couldn't help herself, trying to hold her feelings, and the beautiful memories of that place: the LeGovic family was very kind to her mother and her, and just recall these days was enough to put a smile upon her face.
It was hard to Isabelle to even see that scene: a former happy and lively home now corroded dark and depressing, but using a little bit of her imagination, she could see in those dusty walls with aged paintings some pieces of her childhood.
And in the main room, the portrait of the family, their child, Sebastian; God, how can she forget him?
What a silly crush, but she remembered the way he made her feel, albeit with some embarrassment. Every time she was always looking the dumbest excuses and reasons just to be with him, or at least see it from afar.
Isabelle often fantasized about the day when Sebastian confessed his love to her, and maybe they could have an old-fashioned romance. Who knows? She used to let her emotions overflow and dream about that wonderful day
But in the end, that feeling was something platonic: she wanted to believe that Sebastian felt the same she did, the same…she does…
Oh, who is she fooling to? All those dreams! Dances, laughs, kisses and hugs: details of a love that never happened elsewhere than in the mind of Isabelle.
"Looking for something, Miss?" A voice suddenly asked
"Sorry! I didn't know someone was here" Isabelle apologized
Isabelle noticed something oddly familiar about that man, about her own age: she looked at her face.
"Sebastian?" -Isabelle asked, getting closer to that man.
"Yes, that's my name…"
- Are you really Sebastian LeGovic?
"How do you know that? Who are you?"
"Excuse me, my name is Isabelle ...
"Wait a minute…Isabelle Sardou?"
She nodded, and then, Sebastian's expression changed.
"I can't believe it's really you..." Sebastian said
"Me neither!" Isabelle said "What are you doing here?"
"I heard about what they are gonna do to this house and, well, I wanted to see it one last time, you know, before…
"I understand it well Isabelle ...I really do…"
Sebastian then felt a little uncomfortable, he seemed to keep something to himself, unable to spell it out as much as he wanted but ultimately, he did not want to lose another opportunity, another wasted chance, and finally, after several minutes, he decided to talk.
"Isabelle, I have something to tell you…"
"What?" Isabelle said, blushing.
"I have not seen you in years…"
"Me neither, but…"
"The detail is, well, it's difficult to explain, but ... I never stopped thinking about you ..."
Isabelle was frozen by his words, and what would be even more surprising was his next words
"When I was kid, I always liked you, but ... I do not know, I think I was very immature to even realize about it, and I never had the courage to tell you about my feelings"
"Is it ... it's for real Bastian?" Isabelle asked, using the way she used to call him affectionately.
"Yes, indeed ..."
Sebastian kissed to his own crush, both joined in a symphony of sensations of emotions new to their bodies and their hearts: An energy ran through the whole being of those two lovers, and despite the doubts in their heads, in the end, they were sure this was just what they needed to do.
"I love you Isabelle…" Sebastian whispered
"I love you too, my dear…" Isabelle replied
Then Isabelle opened her eyes, and she found herself in a room, alone and sitting in chair; on a table, there was her glasses and a local newspaper opened in a page with a story that reads: "the end of an era: the LeGovic's house was finally demolished yesterday…"
"Grandma, Is there anything wrong?" Asked her granddaughter, a teenage girl, , as she entered to Isabelle's room, seeing her a little teary and depressed.
"It's nothing my child" Isabelle replied while cleaning her eyes "it's just that…well, at my age, people tend to imagine all kind of things…"
"Are you sure?"