Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 103754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
He sways me in his arms, then sends me out to twirl before pulling me back to where I want to be most. With him. “I was thinking about quitting my job and becoming a full-time author.”
“I think you should. You’ve made plenty of money—”
“We’ve made plenty of money. It’s all yours too, you know?” I’m dipped, and my neck is nipped, making me giggle. “More money than we have time to sin with.”
When we swing back up, I take his hand and lead him into the bedroom. “Oh, we have plenty of time for that.”
“Sounds like a good plan if I’ve ever heard one.” He cups my face and smiles just looking at me. “I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you, Spark.”
“You say that like you had a choice.” I smirk, thinking about how we were star-crossed lovers, but not anymore. “We were never going to beat fate. The moment you went on break, we were destined for each other, Poet.”
EPILOGUE
KEATS
Sosie’s gotten back into her photography, and the gallery takes up most of her time these days. She says she loves finding undiscovered talent, but she’s overlooking herself. “Have you shown this portfolio to anyone at the gallery?” I flip the page, mesmerized by how she sees things in such a unique way and can capture them.
She comes into the living room and sets down two shoeboxes, which make my heart palpitate. “I haven’t been brave enough.”
“You should.” My throat goes dry. “Why do you have those?”
Sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, she crosses her legs like she intends to be there a while. “I’ve always wondered what was in them.”
“Damn, I’m starving. Do you want to go tonight?”
“We already ordered food.” Checking her watch, she says, “It should be here any minute.” But then her eyes latch onto mine and narrow. “Are you trying to distract me?” She angles toward me, resting her arm on the cushion next to me. “If you don’t want me to open the boxes, I won’t.”
“I don’t want you to open the boxes. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.” She slips onto the couch next to me, cuddling up to my side. I can see her gaze still fixed on the boxes, her curiosity probably piqued more than it was before.
I’d love to find a way to wipe the curiosity from her face, but I know that’s unfair. Clearing my throat, I choke out the words I don’t really want to say. I do it for her. “We can open the boxes.”
Perking up, she turns to me. “Are you sure?”
“No.” I chuckle humorlessly. Running my fingers through my hair, I add, “It’s stuff from my childhood.”
“Would you rather I put the boxes up? I don’t want you to be upset.”
I sit forward, pulling one of the battered boxes onto my lap. Running my finger along the disintegrating edge of the lid, I warm to the idea of facing that time in my life again. “They were my mom’s boxes. She was tossing them out, so I took them and shoved stuff I wanted to keep into them when I was little.”
Sosie rubs my arm and kisses my shoulder. “Do you want privacy?”
I rest my hand on her leg and take a deep breath. “No. I want you here with me.” I lift the lid and grin when I see the Pokémon cards I used to collect. They have no value, most just being trainer cards, but I liked to pretend I got a coveted one. I shift them to the side to pull out an old photo of my mom.
“Is that Lori?”
“Yeah, she had me right after high school. I don’t think she even attended her graduation because of me.”
Sosie laughs. “You didn’t have a say in that decision.” She takes the photo. “She’s so pretty.”
I dig out another with a bent corner. I remember this one too well. “This is one of the few photos I have of my dad.” Cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth, a smirk that drove the ladies wild, from what I heard, and a great head of hair.
“I think you have Lori’s eyes, but I recognize that expression.”
“Hmm.” I’m not sure what to think. I thought I’d feel more. Or something at all. “It’s like looking at someone you pass on the street who looks familiar, but you don’t know how you would know them. And then one day, you realize it’s just because you’ve passed them before.” I look at her, breathing heavily, needing to release it. “I don’t even know if he’s alive and . . .” I shake my head. “I don’t need to know.”
She runs the back of her fingers along my neck and says, “I stopped calling my father “Dad” soon after he broke us up.” I swing my arm around her shoulders to hold her. “It didn’t feel like he had the right to that title anymore, but I realize he never did. I like the progress my mom and I are making, but I don’t know if I will ever make up with my father.”