Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Autumn grinned, jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck, even though he was still sitting. She kissed him on his cheek. “Thank you,” she said, standing and moving back so he could stand too.
The sheriff seemed to be considering saying something to Sam but then simply nodded and closed the door behind him. A minute later, they heard his car start up and drive away.
Half an hour after that, Sam used the red truck to drive Autumn to her car. Sam dropped her off in front of the small house, and when she put her hands on his face and gazed into his eyes, Sam got the impression that she wanted to say something but didn’t. What did she want to tell him? That she might not come back? The hairs stood up on the back of his neck. Sam had done all kinds of dangerous things, but he’d never felt fear like he felt when he considered not seeing Autumn again.
But then she murmured, “I’ll see you soon,” against his lips, and Sam was able to pull in a full breath as she hopped out of the truck and headed toward her car.
Sam returned to the lake, following the back road directions Autumn had written out, even though he could have done it without those. He’d been trained to make note of landmarks, escape routes, and other directional details.
When he walked inside, the cottage felt strange. Empty. And for a while, Sam simply sat on the couch, melancholy creeping over his skin, familiar yet unwanted. He hadn’t even realized that he’d ceased carrying it until it was back.
Sam went out to the deck and sat there for a while too, watching the movement of the water and the clouds. Loneliness. He’d always felt lonely, but it’d never been this piercing.
This is what it will be like when you’re alone again.
Yes, of course it would. He hadn’t lied to himself about that.
He’d considered it worth the risk.
But here he was now, after less than an hour away from her, and he was drowning in it as sure as if he’d submerged himself in the frigid lake stretching in front of him.
She’d asked him if he’d ever thought about kissing her in all the years they’d been parted. Yes, he’d told her. It was the last time I felt truly alive. But he hadn’t known the half of it. He hadn’t realized that those few stolen moments with her so many years ago barely scratched the surface of what it felt like to feel alive. She was the one who’d provided the experience, then and now, but this time it was intensified beyond any words Sam had to describe it. If this was life—laughing with her, looking at her, being inside her body as she stared down at him with pleasure-filled eyes, hearing her speak, seeing her lips tip with happiness that he’d given—then he fully understood why people clung to it, fought for it, and feared its end. For the first time in Sam’s life, he understood what it felt like to belong. To want and receive.
And it was wonderful. And terrifying.
She’d been right about pleasure being different when someone else gave it to you. He’d treated pleasure like food. Essential and enjoyable, as long as you didn’t overindulge. But Sam wanted to overindulge with her. And the ideas of how to do that didn’t disturb him like the videos they’d watched at the hospital.
But Sam didn’t want to think about the hospital or anything else. If he sat here all day, staring out at the lake, all he was going to do was think. Torture himself. He couldn’t bear it.
So he went into the house and prepared himself for what he’d decided needed to be done.
Fifteen minutes later, Sam was pulling onto the road again in the old red truck, the license plate splashed with mud since he figured Adam had reported it stolen. Then again, maybe the old man was still waiting for Sam to return it, having faith that he’d just gotten hung up somewhere and would be back anytime. Sam sighed as he watched the landscape streak by.
He followed the signs that pointed the way to New York City, veering toward the town where the apple orchards stretched. He felt a moment of apprehension when he pulled onto the one-lane road that led to the old man’s farm. He would be there and gone before anyone could call any authorities, however. And even if someone attempted to detain him, well…he was well prepared for that too, though it wasn’t his wish to fight anyone. He simply wanted to return what wasn’t his.
But when he drove through the gates of the farm, his blood cooled in his veins, making his body feel rigid. There was a For Sale sign near the front gate, and the place looked abandoned. Shock and alarm descended. This was the last thing Sam had expected. It hadn’t even been a month since he’d been here. What happened?