Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I squeeze my eyes tightly closed before releasing a steady breath. When they crack open again, I realize there’s a black object no more than a foot from where my head rests. For a long moment, I stare in confusion, searching my brain for a rational explanation, but I know that whatever it is wasn’t there earlier.
Awareness floods through me as I straighten to a seated position and reach over, flicking the switch so that the room is illuminated with soft light. Movement from the pink fuzzy papasan chair shoved in the corner catches my eye, and my hand flies to my mouth to stifle the scream that rises in my throat.
My heartbeat thrashes painfully beneath my breast. Any moment, it’ll break loose and flop around on the carpeted floor. “What are you doing here?”
He leans forward until his elbows can settle on his spread thighs. “I needed to see you.”
My mouth turns cottony as I eat him up with my eyes. When was the last time Austin was this close?
Weeks ago.
The sad truth is that I’ve missed him. It takes every bit of self-control not to launch myself at his muscular body.
Instead, I strengthen my resolve. “There’s nothing left to say.”
He rises to his feet before swallowing up the distance that separates us in the blink of an eye. It becomes necessary to lift my chin in order to steadily hold his gaze.
“Then I guess you can sit and listen while I talk.”
When he’s no more than a foot away, he grinds to a halt. Our gazes stay locked in the silent war as a shiver scurries down my spine and electricity hums in the charged air that surrounds us. That’s when I realize we will always generate this kind of irrepressible energy when we’re near one another.
It’s not something that will fade.
No matter how many years pass.
Unable to hold his penetrating stare as that knowledge sinks in, I glance away. Once again, my attention falls to the object beside me. I suck in a sharp breath and blink, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me.
It’s a camera.
And not just any camera, either. It’s the very same Nikon that fell to the bottom of the lake. I rip my gaze away long enough to throw a questioning look at Austin.
“How?” The word comes out sounding more like an unrecognizable croak.
He settles cautiously on the bed before slipping his fingers around mine. “It’s not the one you lost. I wish it were.”
“I don’t understand. How did you know what model it was?”
“Your mom gave me the information.”
I blink in surprise, thrown off by the response. “Really?”
I…can’t believe she did that and never said a word.
“Yeah.”
I glance at our entwined fingers as my brain continues to somersault.
Why does his hand wrapped around mine feel so right?
It would be so much easier to leave him in the past and move on with my life if that wasn’t the case.
When I remain silent, lost in the chaotic whirl of my thoughts, he adds, “I told her how much you missed your father and that the camera was a connection to him that meant a lot. She seemed to understand and got me the information I needed.”
As much as I want to hold back the flood of tears, they prick my eyes.
He waves his other hand toward the camera. “I know it won’t replace the one that belonged to him, but I wanted you to have it.”
My gaze returns to the black object. It looks just like Dad’s. Carefully, I reach out and pick it up. The weight is the same. If I closed my eyes, I wouldn’t know the difference by the shape or texture. I turn it over in my hands. There are a few nicks and scuffs that mine didn’t have, but otherwise it’s identical.
I…can’t believe Austin did this.
And just like that, the walls I’ve been struggling to hold in place come tumbling down. I glance at him and our gazes fasten. Looking away feels impossible. It always has been but now, even more so.
“Thank you. This means…everything to me.”
And it does.
It’s not Dad’s camera. I can’t click the shutter button or stare through the view finder and know that a decade ago, he once did the same.
But…
Austin went through a lot of trouble to replace something meaningful. This camera will be special for entirely different reasons. I’ll never be able to look at it or use it without thinking not only of my father, but him as well.
How will I ever untangle myself from him?
“I understand you might not be able to forgive me for everything that happened, but I need you to know that no matter what, I love you, and what I want more than anything is the best for you. Even if it’s not me.”
I blink as a lone tear slides down my cheek. His expression softens as he reaches out and thumbs away the wetness before bringing it to his mouth and sucking the digit.