His Turquoise Eyes

By Eva Pang

Avery Park's first love returned from her past. Damien Rhodes brought so much into her life; light, love, intimacy and passion. He was the one man who takes away the darkness and her pain. He was her soul-consuming, clichéd romance that was magical. But she makes one unforgiveable mistake that changes the course of everything.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press AU
• Release date: Mar 12, 2024
• ISBN: 9781982299316

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Copyright © 2024 Eva Pang.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

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ISBN: 978-1-9822-9930-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-9931-6 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date:   03/12/2024

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Prologue

He was gone.

Damien Rhodes, my first love, had vanished like a whisper drifting along the wind. I remember the day like it was yesterday. That day marked the moment when my heart shattered into a million pieces. My heartache lingered for days. Tears streamed uncontrollably from my eyes. It felt as though a river was pouring out of me. The sadness lingered for weeks, stretching into months. The pain dragged on, seemingly without end. At times, I was overwhelmed by a sense of numbness. There were other times when I lacked the energy to feel anything at all. And when the pain stopped, it dissolved into a mere whisper of a memory. As I sifted through my keepsake box, memories of our soul-consuming, clichéd romance flooded back, accompanied by visions of his sparkling turquoise eyes. It was then that I unearthed a letter. It was the first love letter he wrote to me. No one has the patience to write letters these days. While reading his love letter aloud, the past unfolded before my eyes.

Dear Avery,

I hope this letter finds you well. I must confess, I don't usually find myself in the habit of writing letters, so I hope I'm doing this right. As you are the writer, I thought writing you a letter would feel more personal and intimate.

It's been quite some time since I've dated, and I find myself feeling a bit rusty. Please bear with me.

I didn't expect to meet someone so intriguing. I must admit, you are a fascinating creature. Although we haven't met yet, your voice over the phone sounds vivacious and spirited. So full of life. I feel a magical force pulling me closer to you.

I know it sounds clichéd but it's the truth. I find you utterly fascinating.

And despite our distance, I feel an inexplicable closeness to you. You're like a dream shimmering across a vast ocean.

I cannot stop thinking about you since our last conversation. They say one should think with their head and not your heart, but when it comes to you, I find it impossible to think straight. You make every day brighter.

Your beautiful photos exude a sense of curiosity and adventure, sparking a desire within me to share in your experiences. I eagerly anticipate the day we finally meet in person. Until then, know that you hold a special place in my thoughts and heart.

With warm regards,

Damien Rhodes.

He crafted a masterpiece, an unparalleled gift that touched me to my core. Damien’s love letter illuminated my world, dispelling the shadows of loneliness that had clouded my heart. I held the letter delicately, like a precious artifact, poring over its contents repeatedly, scarcely believing its reality. With each word, Damien’s affection poured forth from the page, unfiltered and sincere. His unabashed expression of love both awed and humbled me. I never imagined someone could hold such profound interest in me. The foreign impression consumed me from within. Inside and out. His words stirred and awoke something from deep inside me.

My eyes danced with delight while reading, and I felt a surge of warmth and joy unlike any I had known before. Damien’s love enveloped me, seeping into every corner of my being, filling me with a sense of both trepidation and exhilaration. My heart opened like a flower unfurling its petals at the first blush of spring and I wrote back diligently without hesitation.

Dearest Damien,

Thank you for sending me such a beautiful letter.

It was well executed and expressed. I enjoyed reading it immensely.

You did wonderfully well for your first letter. I admire your courage. Your words resonated deeply with me, and I found myself drawn to the authenticity and vulnerability you displayed. It's not often one receives a romantic handwritten letter these days, and I must say, it felt incredibly personal and intimate. I truly appreciate your time and effort. Your willingness to take this step speaks volumes about your character, and I am genuinely touched by your gesture.

You might not have dated for a while but I've never dated. And you're the first guy to write me a letter. I don't know what dating is like.

A fascinating creature? Now, that's new! No one has said that about me before. I must admit, it's piqued my curiosity.

I have to admit, despite our distance, I feel an inexplicable closeness to you' does sound a bit clichéd. You have quite a flare with words and a romantic at heart. I cannot stop thinking about you either. It's been so long since I've genuinely smiled and laughed, and you've brought that back into my life.

You have a great sense of humour. And I truly appreciate all your bountiful compliments.

The idea of embarking on adventures together excites me beyond measure. I'm ready to embrace the journey, bumps and all, with you by my side. So, let's embark on this rollercoaster ride together! I can't promise a smooth road, but I can guarantee it won't be dull. I look forward to our future adventures together.

Yours truly,

Avery Park.

We exchanged letters and emails, akin to lovers bridging the gap of time and distance. We shared short stories to tantalize our senses, engaging in a form of literary foreplay. We were young and in love. He was the first boy to show me mutual affection. I felt overwhelmed with excitement and intimidation. I was still grappling with the sheer impossibility of what was happening to me. We found ourselves drawn closer by the thrilling combination of mystery and chemistry. I felt like nothing more than a plain Jane, yearning to be loved. And he was a starry-eyed gentleman, filled with hope and wonder. Two souls, strangers to each other, seeking love’s embrace…

Chapter One

Damien Rhodes was unlike the others.

He was an encounter of unparalleled beauty. The experience was so unfamiliar, it felt like a dream. It marked the first occasion where someone approached me without any preconceived ideas or judgment. He was genuinely interested. And I was so excited to meet him. For once, a boy liked me and stayed true to his feelings. I could hardly believe what was happening. Each second felt like an eternity as I counted down to the date.

After two weeks of correspondence; we meet in front of a fried chicken eatery on Friday, precisely at eleven thirty. It might not have been the perfect spot for a meet and greet, but given the last-minute arrangement during a busy work week, it was the best option available. I clocked out for lunch two minutes earlier and made a beeline for the food court. I surveyed my surroundings carefully and spotted a young, handsome stranger waiting patiently at a small dining table. While courageously approaching him, the silhouette of my petite figure cast a shadow over him. He looked up and smiled. And in that very moment we locked eyes, it was love at first sight. His sparkling turquoise eyes seemed to encapsulate my essence from the very first ‘hello’. I was mesmerised and immersed within his world of wonders. The world around me simply melted away. It’s often said that the eyes are the gateway to one’s soul. And his eyes held the most rare and intense soul I’ve ever encountered. He emanated something beyond this world. Magic exuded from him, ensnaring me in a captivating trance. I found myself unable to tear my gaze away, paralysed in place. I cannot comprehend the mysterious allure that comes from eyes.

"Hello there." I greeted him with the best impression of Audrey Hepburn meeting William Holden. Softly spoken yet alluring.

"Hello milady, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you."

I blushed.

Never before has anyone addressed me in such a manner. It was the sweetest and most unusual greeting I’ve ever received.

Damien Rhodes was a shy young gentleman. Ambitious and starry-eyed. He illuminated the darkness in my shadowy world. He shone as brightly as Galadriel’s phial from Lord of the Rings. The luminescence burned brighter than a diamond. The light eradicated every shadow of darkness within me. It was intense. My heart pounded so fiercely, it almost stopped beating. I almost forgot to breathe. The brightness filled every corner of my mind, heart and soul.

And he couldn’t look away from me either. I was stunning and riveting in his eyes. The most exquisite creature he’s ever seen. He envisioned an elven warrior standing before him; a petite figure with a mighty heart. My soul reflected in his turquoise eyes while they traced the shape of my body from head to toe. I smiled bashfully. I felt truly seen. It was invigorating and intimidating in equal measure.

I was not used to being admired. I was mostly ridiculed. Most boys judged me. When I initiated friendship or interest, the conversation ended immediately. And then, they disappeared. They were quite eager to leave my presence. Even my mother looked at me with disdain or accusation. I didn’t tick any of her boxes to achieve the perfect daughter. I was not good enough. She knew I was mature and intelligent in my own ways but to her understanding, I was just improving. I didn’t understand what she meant. No matter what I did, she didn’t want to see the truth. But Damien made me feel like a beautiful goddess without a word. I felt worthy. From a simple hello between two strangers to a vast wonder within his soul.

As a tomboy, I didn’t usually bother with dressing up. I typically favoured trousers over dresses but this was a big deal – it was pretty much my very first date. Dating was not allowed until after high school, so I was clueless about what to expect. It fuelled my desire to impress Damien; I mean, anything could go wrong for a newbie like me. Today was a pretty huge deal.

I threw on a white blouse, a navy blazer, and a skirt with thin blue and yellow stripes. Topped it off with a satin navy neck scarf adorned with a bank logo and a pair of black kitten heels – three inches high but solidly grounded. I accidentally excelled at looking my best as a well-dressed customer service officer. And he rocked a red collared polo tee, faded jeans, and white sneakers. His dark champagne wavy blonde hair was tucked under a denim cap.

We were too excited to even think about eating. He was a real sweetheart and bought us hot chocolate to calm our nerves. Hot chocolate always did the trick. We aimlessly roamed the streets of Chatswood, turning from corner to corner while getting to know each other. Most people wouldn’t give me the time of day, let alone open up and share.

"I noticed that Elvis photo of you. You like to dress up?" I asked.

"Oh, that’s an embarrassing photo! I forgot I put that online, he admitted, sheepishly, It was a birthday party… it was some theme and I loved Elvis."

"I can see that, I chuckled, and started singing, You ain’t nothin but a hound dog, cryin’ all the time…"

"Yes, that’s a great classic! He laughed heartily, Don’t forget his iconic rubber leg moves."

"Well, besides dressing like Elvis, you must like music then, right?" I asked.

I never imagined that simply talking could be such an intimate experience. Damien Rhodes was an open book, eager to spend time with me. He listened attentively and responded with genuine interest. Unlike others, he didn’t seem bored or distracted, nor did he change the subject or dismiss me as irrelevant. He never talked over me; instead, I had his full attention. Most importantly, he didn’t seem eager to run off. It might seem easy to say anything to strangers, but with Damien, it didn’t feel that way. We took turns speaking and listening to each other. I didn’t feel scrutinised or judged for what I said. Instead, we talked and laughed as if there were no tomorrow. That’s what made the experience so intimate.

Most boys ran away from me, probably repelled by girl germs or, more likely, Avery’s germs. But kids were kids. It cannot be helped. I do remember one boy from sixth grade who stood out from the rest: Thomas Patmore. I had the biggest crush on him. He was a sturdy Filipino jock and a school prefect; a sweet gentle soul with a bad boy vibe. A total James Dean. With his dark brown hair and smouldering smile. But my infatuation was short-lived once he laid eyes on her—Lauren Miller. She was a tall, dark brunette goddess; exuding sex. And he worshipped the ground she walked on. And to all the other boys, I was nothing more than just a plain Jane. I was okay with that. It didn’t bother me. All I really wanted was to be loved.

And one day, hell broke loose. It was the day I first experienced betrayal. All sixth grade students gathered, sitting crossed legged on the crimson coloured carpet. Library Mondays was reading day and Ms. Graham read ‘The Secret Garden’ by Frances Hodgson Burnett. It was book review week. Once she finished reading, we moved to the study area and sat down in our groups or cliques.

I’ve watched ‘Harriet the Spy’ so many times, I’ve become obsessed with the character, Harriet Welsch. I was so enthralled by her passion with writing, I carried my diary everywhere I went. Just like her. Harriet had a starry-eyed curiosity but she also had a nemesis, Marion Hawthorne. A troublemaker. And mine was Charlotte Hughes. She was a nosy bitch. She always put her nose somewhere it didn’t belong. She had russet coloured hair with an axe to grind. She was just like Marion Hawthorne. She made it her mission to make my life as difficult as possible. The queen of her squad. Georgia Callaghan, her best friend was her obedient lapdog. They were thick as thieves. Some people like her didn’t make friends in this world. They collect a posse of followers to push around. I naively believed that girls were supposed to be the gentle sex. I didn’t know how vicious they could be until I met Charlotte. I thought she was my friend.

"May I?" she asked.

"What?" I replied.

"That! Your notebook... I wanna have a look!"

"No. That’s my diary."

"Come on! Let me see!" she teased.

She made a move for it but I was too fast for her and took it off the table.

"Charlotte, no." I told her sternly.

"I thought I was your friend," she said crossly.

"If you are my friend, you wouldn’t read it. I wouldn’t read yours."

She was nothing more than a spoilt child who was used to getting whatever she wanted regardless of the consequences.

"Well, I wouldn’t bring mine to school," she mocked and cackled loudly with Georgia.

"Miss Park!" Ms. Graham called.

"Yes, Ms. Graham?" I answered.

"Could you come over and see me, please?"

I arose from the desk to see the teacher but paused. Charlotte watched my every move. She waited for my back to turn. Eager to swipe my diary. I picked it up and ripped out the page with the secret I didn’t want anyone to know. I scrunched the piece of paper into a ball and shoved it into my pocket. It was clear, she was up to no good.

On the way to the teacher’s desk, I emptied my pocket into the trash. It should be fine. Once I get home, I’ll just write it again.

"You’ve done well but I think you should have picked a more challenging book to review," She paused when she noticed I was distracted.

I was glancing nervously back and forth over my shoulder from the teacher to Charlotte.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No. Sorry. Um… thank you miss."

I turned back to the teacher but I was too distracted. I saw Charlotte rummaging through the trash from the corner of my eye.

All of a sudden, the school bell rang and the sixth grade class poured out of the library within seconds.

"Please write me another book review by next class."

"Yes, Ms. Graham. Thanks for the extra credit."

I rushed back to my desk and realised my friends left me behind. No one waited for me.

As the teacher retired to her office, the library became deserted. I hastily collected my school books as the lights started to switch off aisle by aisle. It was dead silent like a horror movie. The darkness chased me towards the beckoning daylight from the door. My school bag was the last one hanging on the hook. I stuffed everything into my bag as quickly as possible but in the haste, all my books fell out onto the ground. Frustration burned in my veins. Palm twitchingly mad. My hands shook uncontrollably and my chest tightened. The earth shifted beneath my feet as the world started spinning. My head throbbed like a jackhammer while heaving every breath from my lungs. I steadied myself against the brick wall and realised that I didn’t have time to panic. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply to slow down my rapid heartbeat. I calmed my nerves and refocused. I packed my bag and rushed to the stairs. I almost tripped on the way down but stopped myself by grabbing the rusty metal railing and jumped the last two steps. My heart raced with every stride. Every breath anticipated the next move. I turned the corner and glanced across the quad from the left side of the library, they were not there. Thump, thump. My heart pounded. I paced quickly towards the sports field and froze. Thump, thump. And there they were; sitting on the grassy knoll. My heart pounded faster. Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. It pumped so hard, I almost couldn’t breathe.

I watched the girls from afar. I couldn’t see what was in Charlotte’s hands from a distance but I knew what it was. It was at this moment I realised some people like her, pretend. They didn’t truly value friendship. I thought she was my friend. The girls rolled around in the grass in stitches of laughter while she read every line out loud. Their faces haunted my mind. My heart pounded harder in my eardrums. Baboom, baboom. I almost heard my blood pumping in my ears.

Dear Diary,

I'm not sure how to journal but I'll give it a go. I think I'm supposed to tell you all my secrets.

Okay, here goes nothing… I'll start by telling you who I'm thinking about right now. I'm thinking about him!

I have a crush on a boy. His name is Thomas Patmore. He's a sweetie but such a bad boy!

I'm not gonna lie… I think that's hot! I wish he could see me… If only… I have never been kissed.

Oh, how I wish he would kiss me. I'm not brave enough to tell him how I feel.

He will laugh at me… cuz I'm not her. Lauren Miller. Bloody Lauren Miller… Okay, yeah she's pretty alright. But she's not all that.

Anyways, that's all for now…

Love,

Avery.

That wasn’t the worst part. Thomas was right there. He and all the other sixth grade boys. He heard every word Charlotte read. He knows now. The sixth grade boys spotted me and circled me like hungry hyenas. And I was right. He laughed at me. His laughter roared in my face. I tried to run and hide but my feet were rooted to the ground in dread. I pretended their taunts didn’t affect me and tried laughing it off. The boys called my bluff and smelled fear on me like bloodhounds smelling fresh blood. They mocked and taunted endlessly. I tried to hide my emotions but they bubbled just above the surface. And that made the boys laugh harder. I was mortified.

I confronted Charlotte and scolded her, "You bitch! How could you?!"

Everyone heard and chimed, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"Excuse me?" she said.

"Oh, you heard me! Bitch!"

"That’s it! You’re out!" she exclaimed.

"I’m out?! Who put you in charge? I shouted, angrily. I didn’t do anything! And you are a bitch!"

"I say you’re out and you’re out!"

"You betrayed me and I’m out?! Classy Charlotte! So classy!" I exclaimed.

"Shut up, cry baby!" she shouted.

"Bitch!" I shouted and lunged forward at her.

She was taken aback but Ruby and Iris stopped me in time. I was so angry, I wanted to wring her neck so badly and slap the shit out of her.

"I wanna slap that damn bitch!" I exclaimed, angrily.

"No, don’t!" Ruby warned.

"You will get expelled!" Iris warned.

"Cry baby!" Charlotte shouted again.

"Go to hell bitch!" I yelled.

Georgia held her back and said to her, "Okay, I think you’ve done enough!"

"She doesn’t know how to stop! She’s a spoiled brat who doesn’t care for consequences!" I remarked.

"Are you serious?! What kind of friend are you?" Charlotte said, angrily.

"What kind of friend am I?! Are you kidding me?! I exclaimed, You betrayed me, bitch! You don’t even know what friend means you ugly cow!"

"Fuck you!"

"Right back at you!"

"Avery! Ruby warned again, Just walk away! She’s not worth it!"

"Fuck you! Go to hell!" I yelled at Charlotte with good measure as Ruby pulled me away to a safe distance.

I finally understood how friendships are valued. I was disposable. Betrayed, abandoned or excluded. Loyalty didn’t exist. But it didn’t end there.

Charlotte made me suffer every day. She won’t let the girls hang out with me nor talk to me. It didn’t stop them from talking to me. But they should have done more. I sat alone every day. I sat outside the school office on a brick wall to eat my lunch in peace. It was either that or cry on the silver benches in the quad. I learned to cry silently while nobody was around. And then pretended to be indifferent while in class.

When the girls found me crying on the silver benches, they turned the river of tears into a tsunami. They closed in on me like hungry hyenas. I didn’t have time to react when they locked onto me. I couldn’t even cry