Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 34243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
I swear, whoever’s in charge of Foxtown’s marketing team is a genius. The controversy that hit them a while back could’ve sent most businesses spiraling and losing hope, but Foxtown—
Arkane suddenly takes hold of my hand. “Ready?”
My eyes widen. “Ready for—”
I don’t even get to finish my question, he’s already leading me away, and all I can do is laugh as I follow his lead, the crowd cheering and clapping as we run off into the night.
Who would’ve thought someone as serious as Arkane would’ve done this?
We sweep past the doors of the Royal Hall, and a Foxtown footman in full livery startles into bowing and offers a black umbrella with both hands—“Milord—Milady—”—but Arkane only shakes his head once, never breaking stride, and pulls me on. Outside, the night air is already cool against the bare skin of my arms, and the cobbles are catching the gas lamps in long wet streaks because, I realize a beat later, it’s already started raining out here, too.
Artificial rain has indeed started to fall as we run up the grand staircase, and the sound of laughter mingling with splashes of water makes me smile. It is rather romantic, and a sense of silly giddiness sweeps over me as the starry evening skies welcome us back.
Once upon a time, this was how it all started between us, too.
A whirlwind romance that took place over one unforgettable summer, and...I want to believe that this time, it will be better.
Because this time I have You.
And You’ll make everything good for those who love you.
Arkane turns to me at that moment, and just having his eyes meet mine—
(Because the last time, he couldn’t even bear the sight of me, the girl he loved and cherished, but who carelessly gave away kisses like they weren’t precious)
My eyes start to burn, and my throat starts to tighten. I don’t want to cry, I don’t. But the more I try to keep the tears at bay, the more my lip trembles—
Arkane’s steps slow, and oh no, oh no—
He turns to face me, his hands coming up to cup my elbows. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry,” I choke out.
“Sorry for what?” His thumbs are moving slowly against the insides of my arms, like he’s not even aware he’s doing it.
Moonlight casts a sheen on the dark locks of his hair, and would you believe, it’s at this moment that a cool breeze teases our skins while a carriage runs behind us, the chop-chop of horse hooves on the cobbled streets adding to the background music, and oh, will you look at that?
It’s the middle of summer, and yet it actually starts to rain? And the guests still inside the ballroom, they see it, too, and their cheers reach us all the way here, and a part of me wants to laugh and cry.
Foxtown is just so picturesque at any angle, and even God’s gamely joined in with all these coincidences that aren’t actually coincidences, and it’s making me feel like the two of us are shooting a movie, and we’re both reading from a script instead of the broken pieces of our past.
The white velvet of my dress is already drinking the rain in, the hem heavy where it brushes my ankles, the sleeves clinging dark to my arms. I can’t bring myself to care.
“I d-didn’t get to say this a while ago, but I want to say it now. I n-need to say it now—”
“Because you want to give me a chance to change my mind?”
One whirlwind summer romance, and yet this man knows, even better than I do, that I really am the other half of his soul.
I try my best to smile, but my lips are trembling too hard to make it. “You need to know what you’re getting into—”
And because I feel like he’s going to tell me it’s fine, and I can’t risk having him convince me it’s so, since that’s only going to cause us to repeat the same old mistakes—
“You know all about Mom, right?” The words come tumbling out in a rush, and the moment I start speaking, floodgates to my heart seem to break open, and I suddenly can’t stop speaking. “Icelle told me it was why you...you d-didn’t want photos of us taken, and that’s why...that’s why I went crazy that night. I d-didn’t know it then. And so I t-thought you were ashamed of me, or that you d-didn’t want Mirabella to know—”
His gaze narrows, his hands going still at my elbows. “Who told you about her?”
“It doesn’t matter.” It really doesn’t. “The fact is, I overheard people talking about her, and they were talking about you not wanting to have photos taken, and so I just...snapped.”
SNAP.
I hear it in my mind, unseen fingers snapping, and it’s like another cue, and my tears finally start falling.