Rewind

one of my books: ‘Only because of the darkness are we able to see the light.’
      The number 25 imprinted on the wooden front door of the three story high house catches my attention as I realize that this is the address. A sudden anxiousness crawls its way into my heart, causing it to race as I realize that this is it. Once I knock on this door, the moment of truth will be unraveled and all the confusion will hopefully disappear, but what if I don’t like what this man will have to say? What if I end up embarrassing myself or worse- what if this girl is the one who answers the doorbell? What would she say? Will she for some weird reason recognize me? Or will she eye me with the same shock I’ll probably eye her with?
      I slowly make my way up the stairs, where I’m met with a ‘Welcome’ home mat, and just as I was about to knock, I draw my hand back and unclench my fist as a thought appears into my mind: ‘what if the truth is better left untold?’
This was a bad idea: coming here.
      I turn around as I make my way down the stairs, but my feet seems to have lost the ability to move once the sound of the front door being pulled open hits my ears.
Do I want to know the truth? I mean I’m always curious, but what if this time my curiosity drags me into a world I will not be too fond of?
‘It’s now or never,’ the thought rushes through my brain. I make up my mind and with my heart rapidly beating in my chest, I turn around to face ‘Adam’.
     No words leave my mouth as I stare back at the owner of the most attractive pair of grey eyes I’ve ever seen which were eyeing me back in shock. Adam, who looks about my age and much older than in the photo, is wearing a black leather jacket and black jeans and by the looks of it, he seemed to be quite in a hurry- or so I thought.
He gives me a puzzled look. “Evie?”
My ears caught the soft whisper that came out of his mouth, and I can’t help but furrow my eyebrows at the sound of my nickname.
Chapter 2
“Adam?”
     My deep brown eyes continue staring back at his hypnotizing grey ones, and even though I was sure that I caught a flicker of recognition flashing through them, it was gone as soon as it came. Other than the fact that he is much older now, maybe by four years or so, he looks just like in the photo in his wallet except for one thing that made him seem as though he’s not himself- something that I can’t quite lay my hands on. Something that made him seem like a stranger to one’s eye.
     None of us has spoken yet. Not a word has been said after I uttered his name, which I learnt from his master card, until he cleared out his throat. “How do you- I’m sorry, but you are?”
     I stare at his eyes which were now looking at me like a total stranger; a person he has never met, and my mouth suddenly feels dry like I just lost the ability to speak. As I eye his features warily, I shift a little closer to him, trying to boost any memory to see if I recognize or if we ever met, but as soon as I stepped closer, he took a step back.
“Do you know me?” I ask him in a low voice and retreat back; a dark shade of red brushing my cheeks.
    Just before he takes a look at his watch, attempting to check the time, I can’t help but notice how he stiffened at my question but then I remember  how he looked at me like I’m a complete lunatic a few seconds ago which made my doubt myself.
Maybe I was just being too paranoid.
“Listen, I’m kind of really late for something here; how can I help you?” He asks, with an unmistakable annoyance, which was evident in both his voice and face, but once I got out the wallet from my black purse, it morphed to a one full of gratitude and understanding.
“I’m sorry for the intrusion; I just wanted to return this since I saw it fall out of your pocket earlier today,” I reply softly as I hand him the wallet.
He takes a few steps forward. “Thank God.”
He slowly takes it from my hands, making sure not to make any skin contact and pulls it directly to him. “I’ve been looking for it everywhere. Listen.” He flickers his eyes to me before saying, “Thank you for returning the wallet, but I’m really sorry; I have to go.”
    Just as he was brushing past me as he made his way from his porch to his black Porsche, that I couldn’t help but notice as I came by, I grab his arm as a means of stopping him from leaving now.
“Wait, please!” He surely notices the eagerness in my voice because he stops in his tracks, giving me a chance to speak.
I pull my hands away from him. “I know I had no right to open your wallet, but while I was searching for your identity card amongst the other cards you own, I found a picture.”
     He shifts his legs awkwardly and motions with his head for me to continue, clearly not getting where I’m heading at, so I explain slowly. “I saw the young girl in the picture, and I couldn’t help but notice how similar she looks like me. If you don’t mind me asking, who is she?”
    He turned his entire body so that he faces me with a