📖 About the book:⠀DRIVE
⠀Music . . . the heart’s greatest librarian.
The average song is three and a half minutes long; those three and a half minutes could lead to a slow blink, a glimpse of the past, or catapult the soul into heart-shattering nostalgia.
At the height of my career, I had the life I wanted, the life I’d always envisioned. I’d found my tempo, my rhythm. Then I received a phone call that left me off key.
You see, my favorite songs had a way of playing simultaneously. I was in love with one man’s beats and another’s lyrics. But when it came to the soundtrack of a life, how could anyone choose a favorite song? So, to erase any doubt, I ditched my first-class ticket and decided to take a drive, fixed on the rearview.
And the long road home to the man who was waiting for me.
This isn't just another book, oh no, This is a journey. A journey that steals everyone of your emotions as your eyes soak up the words.
Poetic words, a journey of thoughts, feelings, decisions and choices, some wrong, some impulsive, some that brings clarity, but mostly a journey that involves detours and heart thumping moments.
This is Stella's journey and one that completely captivated me.
It's like your reading Stella's memoirs as the story begins with Stella taking a two day drive home and reflects on her life journey until that now point in her life, her end goal, her dream that hasn't been without heartache and pain along the way.
Some books you read and enjoy some you love but when a book reaches out and takes hold of you like this, it's set apart, your in with that character to the bitter or sweet end whichever way it goes and Drive definitely had me til the end.
It's the bittersweet choices Stella makes on her journey that truly gripped me, her story of the love she has of a man that not only sees her but feels her existence in the world as she does with him.
Stella's journey goes through the dreaded love triangle stages as the verge of a second chance romance develops and it was intense not knowing which way Stella would go. Like watching an impending car accident would she swerve or crash? I was merely a spectator watching through closed fingers, I was completely spell bound and read on with dread and hope. This is Stella's life journey and no-one's journey is without painful decisions.
I reached the end with relief and then reflected on the journey that makes this book stand out from the rest and it was really up there with some of my favourites.
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I knew that tone. That tone was the bearer of bad fucking news.
“What? Say it.”
“It’s his wedding.”
I eyed the clock while I zipped my suitcase. I had an hour and a half before my flight. I was cutting it close. “Whose wedding?”
“I know my name. Damn, who—” Realization struck and my heart met the floor. I stayed mute while she rambled on nervously.
“What are the odds? What are the goddamn odds? I don’t know what to do. Do you want me to leave? There’s no handbook for this. Did you even want to know this? That he’s married? I can’t believe I just watched him get married! Who in the hell ends up at their best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s wedding? I couldn’t not tell you.” She sniffed as the toilets repeatedly flushed around her.
“Stella, please say something.”
I pressed the sting back. “I’m alright, of course. I’m fine. Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know.” She sniffed. “Ben called me last night, and things are just so fucked up, and today this shit happens, and I know you’re happy. I know you are. But . . . I mean, this is—”
I put my hand up as if she could see it. “Don’t tell me anything else, okay? I’m good.” I looked at my reflection in the mirror from the bed into the adjacent bathroom. Nothing had changed. I wasn’t leaking. I was fine. “I’m okay. I’m glad you told me. I have to leave for the airport now, or I’ll miss my flight.” A slew of questions was on the tip of my tongue. Did he look happy? Was she beautiful? And more questions I hated myself for that Lexi would never be able to answer. Still, my head and heart refused to keep those questions bottled.
Was she prettier than me? Did he look at her the same way? Did he propose to her with half his heart? Did he think of me when he did it? Was any part of him thinking of me now? Was I in his dreams the way he drifted through mine sometimes?
All my thoughts were selfish. All of them. And of all the thoughts I could have had that day, self-loathing was not the one I expected to nudge its way front and center. I forced myself to speak.
“Yes, of course. I’m fine.”
“This freaky shit always happens. Always with you.”
“It’s like karma or God or someone hates you. It’s so fucked.”
I laughed ironically, though inside my heart was pounding.
Silence passed over the line as we both waited for some sort of solution that wasn’t coming.
“Stella, God, I’m so sorry.”
“About what? Stop. You know I would have told you if the situation were reversed. I should go. Love you.”
“Love y—” I hung up the phone before she could finish, frozen in the middle of the hotel room.