Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
“I’ll probably never talk to Tom again,” I say, drying my hands.
“Is that weird?”
I shrug. “I suppose it’s weird if you’re on the outside. You probably think it’s odd that I could’ve been marrying a man this morning, yet I’ll never talk to him again now.” I hold the towel in my hands and look at Luke. “But it’s really a relief.”
So many words are on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t have the guts to say them. It’s for the best that I don’t anyway. He’ll think I’m just overly emotional—and maybe I am. And I’ll regret saying them when I return to my life, and he never talks to me again—which he won’t.
The best way to predict the future is to look at the past. While our storied history is the sweetest part of my life, it’s the end I must use when looking into a crystal ball.
Even though as I stand in his kitchen and peer into those bright green eyes, feeling the connection between us reverberate in the air, it’s hard to remember why it didn’t work out.
“I owe you an explanation,” I say, realizing I’ve never given him a reason for being here.
“You really don’t.”
“No, but I do.” I move across the room to put some distance between us. Only when we’re more than a few feet apart can I breathe again. “And I want you to know that it was really brazen of me to use the key to get in your house.” I return his grin. “And it was even kinder of you to have been as sweet to me as you have.”
“Let me ask you this,” he says, smirking. “What would you have done if you had broken in here and my wife was in my bed?”
“I would have questions.”
“Such as?”
My grin grows. “I would’ve asked you why you never showed pictures of your wife on social media.”
His loud laughter fills the room.
“I mean, I get that you use your page for work, but you could still show her every now and then,” I say, laughing too. “I’m always suspicious if a man is married and his girl doesn’t show up anywhere with him online.”
“Oh,” he says, his eyes alight with humor. “I see. You’ve been checking me out.”
“Hardly.”
He hums.
“Stephanie happened to see one of your viral videos,” I say, rolling my eyes playfully. “And she showed me, and I may or may not have gotten curious.”
“You’re a fangirl.”
It’s my turn to burst out laughing. “I am hardly a fangirl, Luke. But thanks.”
“You are. That is so cool.”
“Stop it.”
“Why? You don’t think I’m not online watching what you’re up to?”
He turns away before I can see his face.
“You’re checking on me?” I ask.
“I just wonder what you’re up to sometimes.” His voice drops a few octaves. “You’re really impressive. But I’m sure you know that.”
My heart swells so big that I’m afraid it will burst.
After I was supposed to come home the last time and couldn’t, he didn’t answer my calls. Worse, he didn’t return them, either. I’ve always hoped that maybe it was too hard for him like it was for me. A clean break was easier than peeling the bandage off slowly. I’ve looked into endless arenas and at thousands of crowds—read countless comments on posts and wondered if any of them were him.
I’ve wondered whether Luke thought about me. To have the answer, to know that he has, brings tears to my eyes because what I’ve really feared all these years is that he hated me. Did he hate me for leaving? Did he hate me for not coming back? Even though he told me he knew I had to go try to achieve my dreams, did he really mean it?
Knowing that Luke was always in my corner, rooting for me if only silently, heals a wound I’ve carried with me since the day I left Peachwood Falls.
“The peach dress that you wore to the awards show last spring,” he says, looking at me over his shoulder. “It reminded me of the one you wore to senior prom.” He dips his chin and looks away again. “I’m sure it was a lot more expensive, and those diamonds were real, but you were beautiful.”
My vision fogs as I will myself not to cry.
“Anyway,” he says, running a hand over his head. “I’m glad things are okay, and your people are fighting for you behind the scenes.”
Like I never fought for you.
Like you never fought for me.
“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat. “They’re all in agreement that my stunt this afternoon was the best thing I could’ve done in the moment.”
Luke faces me again. “And you don’t think you’ll ever talk to Tom again?”
His features are sober, and his brows pull together. The question hangs in the balance between us.