Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
The sun was setting, casting long, dark shadows across the now-empty main tent. Dante and I walked through the dimming space, the air thick with the memories of performances past. The faded light filtered through the crimson canvas, creating an almost ethereal glow that made the silence between us feel even more profound.
“Remember the first time I saw you here?” Dante’s voice broke the quiet, pulling me from my thoughts. “You were standing right there, watching the performers practice, so full of curiosity and determination.”
I smiled, a bittersweet smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “I remember. I was so nervous, trying to blend in, hoping no one would notice how out of place I felt.”
Dante chuckled softly, the sound a comforting balm despite the heaviness in my chest. “You did more than blend in. You became a part of us, Ava. You became a part of me.”
We walked further, our steps slow and deliberate, neither of us wanting to break the fragile peace. “This place,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “it became home in a way I never expected.”
Dante stopped, turning to face me. The fading light played across his features, highlighting the lines of worry and pain etched there. “And now it’s all ending because of what we uncovered. Because of what you did.”
There was no accusation in his tone, just a statement of fact that cut through me like a knife. “I had to, Dante. You know that.”
“I do,” he replied, his gaze softening. “But it doesn’t make this any easier.”
We stood there, surrounded by the ghosts of our shared past, our voices tinged with regret and longing. The chemistry between us crackled, the air charged with unspoken desire and the weight of what could never be.
As night fully descended, we moved to the edge of the circus grounds. The lights of the nearby town twinkled in the distance, a stark contrast to the darkness settling over us. I turned to face Dante, the weight of our impending separation pressing down on me.
“This is it, isn’t it?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to stay strong.
He nodded, his eyes locked on mine. “It is. But know this, Ava. What we had... it was real. And it mattered.”
Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. He stepped closer, his hand cupping my cheek in a gesture so tender it made my heart ache. “You changed everything.”
Our goodbye was a slow, lingering kiss, filled with all the passion and sorrow of our parting. His lips were warm and familiar, a bittersweet reminder of what we were leaving behind. When we finally pulled apart, the world felt colder, emptier. I walked towards my car, each step feeling heavier than the last. As I reached the entrance, I turned back one final time. Dante stood there, a solitary figure in the night, watching me with a mixture of love and heartbreak. My heart shattered, knowing that this was the end.
Back in my apartment, the city lights reflected in my eyes as I sat by the window. The success of my exposé felt hollow without Dante by my side. I was haunted by memories of him, of the life we might have had if things had been different. The love I felt for him was still there, a constant ache that would take a long time to heal.
The city buzzed around me, indifferent to my pain. I knew I had done the right thing, but the price of the truth was a heavy one to bear. As I stared out into the night, I vowed to carry the memories of our love with me, a reminder of what we had shared and what I had lost.
Chapter Twelve
Ava
The newsroom buzzed with activity, phones ringing and voices blending into a symphony of productivity. I sat at my new, spacious desk, surrounded by awards and accolades that testified to my successful career. The sunlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating my latest article as I typed furiously, the words flowing effortlessly. Every keystroke brought a sense of accomplishment, yet beneath the surface, a current of melancholy simmered. The energy around me was contagious, a testament to my dedication and skill, but my thoughts often drifted back to the circus and the man who had captured my heart. The love and loss still lingered, a shadow over my brightest achievements.
Mark, my editor, approached, his presence a comforting constant. "Great job on this piece, Ava," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "Your dedication and skill continue to set you apart."
"Thanks, Mark," I replied, forcing a smile. His praise was well-meaning, but it only deepened the sense of longing I felt. "I appreciate it."
He studied me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "You know, sometimes it's okay to take a step back and reflect. You've been through a lot."