Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“My mom would have loved this,” I say quietly, my voice seeming to echo off the walls surrounding us. I turn to look at Roman over my shoulder and find a familiar small bottle in his hand. My gaze flies up to his.
“From the pictures I remember, I thought you’d want to share this place with her, so I brought this just in case,” he says quietly, and tears fill my eyes.
“Roman.”
“Please don’t cry again.”
“Stop being so sweet.” I walk toward him and lean up on my tiptoes to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Thank you.” I don’t wait for his reply because I know it’s not coming. Taking the small bottle from him, I look around.
“How about there?” he asks, and I turn to see him pointing into a dark corner where there is a single ray of sunlight beaming down from above.
“Perfect,” I whisper, walking toward the light, and drop to my knees to start digging a hole in the red dirt. And just like when we were at the cabin, he drops down next to me to help.
When the hole is a few inches deep, I open the lid and dump the contents inside, then cover the hole and look up at the sunbeam. I don’t cry. Letting go is getting a little easier as each day passes, and I know that has to do with Roman. Having him with me has made me appreciate this journey and this life a little more. I still miss my mom and wish she was here, but the pain I carried around for so long no longer feels like it’s suffocating me.
Standing, I dust off my hands, and he does the same before pulling me into his arms. I squeeze my eyes closed and hug him back, burying my face in his chest. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. As fucked up as it is, I am,” he says, smoothing his hand up my back and tangling his fingers in my hair. “Having you has made everything a little more bearable.”
“Ditto,” I whisper and feel him laugh. “Do you think Val would have liked it here?”
His chest expands on a deep breath. “Yeah.”
“Good.” I tip my head back, and he dips his chin to meet my gaze. “I wish I could have met him.”
“Me too, though he would have flirted with you just to annoy me,” he says, and something passes through his eyes that I’m not quick enough to read before it’s gone. “Are you ready to go?”
“If you are.”
“You haven’t eaten today.”
“I had coffee.” I force a smile, wondering what that look was about.
“That’s not food.” He lets me go, only to take my hand. I glance back at that beam of light one last time before I follow him out of the cavern and through the winding corridor to the exit.
When we get outside, he keeps a tight grip on my hand as we make our way back down toward the SUV, and even though he hasn’t said a word, I can tell something is off. The heaviness around us wasn’t there until I mentioned Val and he spoke about him flirting with me. A million questions float through my mind as we drive back to where the helicopter let us off, but every time I look at him, I swallow them down one by one.
When we arrive at the helicopter pad, he helps me out, and Billy greets us at the door holding two glasses of sparkling liquid I assume is champagne. “Did you enjoy your time?”
“It was amazing,” I tell him, accepting a glass.
“I’m happy to hear that.” He looks at Roman, and I bite my lip when he doesn’t speak. “Lunch is ready if you two are.”
“Thank you.” I draw in a breath and follow him to a white-linen-covered table set for two with fancy-looking sandwiches and what looks like homemade chips and cookies on a plate in the middle. The table is placed close to what I realize is the edge of a cliff that overlooks a winding river I didn’t notice before.
When I’m seated and Roman is across from me, I wait until Billy wanders away to nudge his foot with mine. “Talk to me.”
His eyes meet mine as he unfolds his napkin, placing it on his lap. “Eat, Elora. You didn’t have breakfast.”
“I’m not eating until you talk to me.”
“There is nothing to talk about.”
“God, you’re so stubborn.” I let out a sigh of frustration and pick up my napkin, snapping it open. “At times, I’m able to convince myself that I know you so well, but then I’m reminded—like right now—that I don’t know you at all.”
“You know me better than anyone.”
“Then that is really sad, Roman, because I know nothing about your life in New York, and you never talk about your family or friends.”