Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
This isn’t about money, though I’ve been spoiled. No, this goes deeper.
Loch doesn’t realize he did more than save me. He brought me back to life by loving me. That’s why this world, although my things have me smiling, makes me miss the life I’ve been living with him even more. I pull my phone from my bag and text: I miss you.
Staring at the screen, I will him to see it. Relief washes over me when I see those three dots on the screen. But nothing compares to the joy I feel when I see his message pop up: I miss you more, baby.
I hold the phone to my chest as the adrenaline of being here wears off and question why I even came when I have Loch to traverse this with me at home. Especially because the mental gymnastics with my “fiancé” have already worn me down. He speaks in riddles and references things I can’t remember. How long can I really pull off this charade?
Add in that my mind can’t settle on one thing that has truly gotten me closer to recovering my memories and it feels like an impossible task to achieve. Why do I stay? The money is mine, enough to live a very comfortable life, and safe in my bank account. All I have to do is prove who I am to claim it.
It makes it even more tempting to tell Loch to come get me and make me forget about this day.
But can I?
Can I really move on knowing this world exists, my past life still filling the walls of this room and gifts under the tree? I don’t even know my parents anymore. I would love to see them, but are the strings too tenuous to hang on?
I move to the alcove of the window, folding my legs under me and relax in the peace of the view. It’s nice to breathe without having someone breathing over me, like that man was. A soft cushion spreads end to end with hidden bookcases on either side. Classics lining the shelves along with a few books by authors I must have treasured based on how many of their titles I own. I breathe it in, this area saying the most about me yet.
Books.
A nook.
And a view.
I haven’t read a book since I’ve been at Loch’s, but something about being near my collection is so comforting. I take one of the novels down and flip through the pages of the romance. A quote stands out, reminding me of the fairy tale I was living.
You’re where time begins and ends and every moment between.1
Why’d I leave Loch? I know the rational answers, but love isn’t always logical. So why do I keep trying to make sense of it? He’s been every minute of the life I know, and I love him with my soul. Yet I’m sitting here in the middle of another state away from him.
A knock on the door draws me from my thoughts. I’ve been here for hours, but not heard another person. Until now . . . I stare at it, praying he hasn’t come back. After the second rap, I stand and call, “Yes?”
“C?” a woman asks through the closed door.
C?
Not Céline. Huh? Who is it now? We must be close enough for her to call me a nickname. I take a step but then stop again. Do I answer it or tell her to go away? Me saying I was tired worked as an excuse with him, but maybe this lady is a new opportunity for information. Nearing dinnertime, I have to leave eventually, so I say,
“One moment.” I open the door and peek out. Curls of red hair and eyes that shine bright like fresh-cut grass in the spring greet me.
“It’s true,” she says, raising her hand with an enthusiastic grin that’s too big to contain on her small face. “You’re back.”
I open the door wider. “I am.” I can’t stop myself from smiling. If only everyone was this happy to see me. “How did you know?”
“I made Carter swear to me he would tell me the second you arrived. He texted me begrudgingly.” Her laughter tinkers in the air in a higher octave. She throws her arms around me before I have a chance to escape. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“Carter?” So that’s his name. With no justification whatsoever, I can see how it fits.
“Yeah, you know how he gets.” She rolls her eyes as she heads straight for the window seat where I had been sitting and tucks her legs under her. Her outfit is similar to mine, but she’s in a baggier white button-up over her fitted ankle jeans. It’s the colorful scarf around her neck that catches my eyes. The hair and large green eyes contrast the more muted outfit, but someone as pretty as she is with her button nose doesn’t need distractions from her natural features.