Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Seeing her.
Leaving her.
Missing her.
Loving her.
“I hate that I have to leave.” I kiss her forehead again.
Emersyn’s fingers claim my shirt as her lips brush the skin along my neck. They don’t taste. They don’t playfully nip. They just feel.
I’m speechless. Everything has been said over and over again.
I love you, but …
I want you, but …
Over and over again, we grapple with a reality we just don’t want to accept.
My hands thread through her hair, tipping her head back. She’s captive in my hold, in my eyes. My lips tease hers, and those unavoidable feelings ignite. The kiss grows more intense.
I want to live in the moment, but my heart knows it will suffer a long hangover and destroy her in its path.
“Zach …” She turns her head, proving to be the stronger one this morning.
I bury my face in the bed just above her shoulder. “I know.”
She’s here. She’s everywhere.
Emersyn. Not Suzanne.
The beat of her heart, chest-to-chest with mine.
Her parted legs nestling my pelvis as I try to hold back the urge to move against her.
Those demanding hands in my hair.
The lingering warmth of her lips.
The floral scent along her skin.
“I like this bubble.” She sighs, ghosting her fingers along my back. “I like it too much. It’s blinding and all-consuming. But it always pops, and I’m left feeling so deflated and empty inside it’s debilitating.”
I slowly climb off the bed.
Pop!
The bubble breaks with one look. Our time has once again expired. We’re going our separate ways again with an uncertain future.
“Do you need help booking a flight home?” I ask.
Emersyn sits up slowly and straightens her shirt. “No. I’ve got it.”
“Do you need a ride anywhere?”
“I have a rental car.”
I scratch my jaw. “Do you need anything?”
Pressing her lips together, she averts her gaze for a few seconds. “Time,” she whispers.
After a few slow blinks, I nod.
Turning away from her, I slide open the curtains several more inches, letting in the first rays of the sunrise. “Ask me to stay. Skip my flights. Crawl into bed with you and forget about the world.”
It’s so impulsive. And stupid. But Emersyn makes me feel young and alive again. She dominates my thoughts from half a world away.
And I know … I know the answer to my ridiculous request, but I say it anyway. I say it because when I walk out that door, I don’t want her to ever question my heart.
When she doesn’t respond, I turn back toward her. What do I really expect her to say? I feel like an old man with tired eyes and sad lips. A little grayer in my whiskers. A little less strength in my posture. She can do better.
“Ask me to stay,” she whispers. “Quit my job. Crawl into bed with you and forget about the world.”
It’s not funny. It’s sad … so heartbreaking, but my lips curl into a tiny grin. She’s testing the waters. Hell, she might be chasing more than one dream. I don’t know. What I do know? I’m not a destination. Not for her. I’m the obstacle. The distraction. A fucking pair of training wheels when she needs to ride on her own. She’s ready, even if I’m not.
After a minute or so of silence, each of us weighing our next words, idly watching our future together slip further and further away, I cup one side of her face.
As she leans into my touch, I give her one last smile. My very best one. “Have a safe trip home, my love.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Emersyn
Home.
It’s official. He’s acknowledging that Atlanta is not my home, that he is not my home.
I close my eyes and fight the ache in my chest, the tightness in my throat. His touch fades. His entire presence fades. And I’m left with the tiny echo of the door clicking shut.
When I feel too much time has passed for him to turn around and come back to me, I text him.
Em: Send me the papers.
Everything he said to me repeats in my head, a haunting echo eating away at my emotions.
If I needed him?
How was I supposed to respond to that? If I need him, does that make me weak? I’ve survived without him. Does that mean I don’t need him?
Need …
The list of things I need is pretty short. Food. Water. Oxygen. And Zach?
At the airport, I take a photo of my grande coffee along with my feet propped up on my carry-on bag. California bound. #deathisoverrated
As I scroll through my Instagram feed, I come to an abrupt stop, slowly inching back up said feed. I smile, stopping on Zach's first official post. It’s miles of sky above the clouds. The second most beautiful sight I’ve seen today. #PilotLife
The joy I feel at this moment trumps how I felt in his arms. Everything we’re not, everything we can’t have, seems to suffocate who we are and what we do have when we’re together.