Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 134746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
I didn’t quite get piss drunk last night, but I came close.
Now I’m waking up with a terrible crick in my neck and my entire body knotted up from being slumped in the chair all night. At first, I think I must have knocked myself out until evening from the grey-dark tint to the sky, but no.
It’s sunrise.
Something I almost never see, coming up over the horizon in splashes of spreading gold.
I linger on it with my mouth feeling dry and scummy. It’s not sour with the booze, rather the bitterness dwelling inside me.
The morning makes me wonder if Elle’s light will be dimmer, her sunlit eyes less radiant.
No. Not her.
She might burn less fiercely for a little while, but my shit could never snuff her out.
She’s too strong for that.
One fine day, I’ll just be one more bad memory she hardly thinks about at all.
“It can’t come soon enough,” I mutter.
I stand, rolling my shoulders and drifting to the window. If I’m up, I might as well take in this bizarre novelty.
Yet I’m not the only one awake.
When I hear footsteps, I almost retreat.
Elle’s up.
Standing outside, where I can just barely see her from my vantage point facing the sound.
She’s dressed in that pretty sleeveless dress again.
The morning wind blows it against her and breezes her hair back from her fine-featured face. Her coat and purse are piled on the shore, while she stands in the shallows with her shoes dangling from her hand, her face tilted to the rising sun.
The dawn paints her pink and gold.
Again, I’m struck by that crazy feeling that she isn’t fully human.
She’s an angel of light captured straight from a fairy tale, and as the sunrise thins the barrier between worlds, she’ll fade away like she was never here slumming it in flesh and blood at all.
Ridiculous, I know.
The image punches me so painfully that it wrenches me with longing. I unconsciously reach for her—then catch myself as my fingers hit the glass and remind me she’s too far away.
Forever out of reach.
That’s for the best.
I pull back with a scorched breath and snatch my phone from the nightstand. I need to let her be free from me, so I dial Rick’s number.
Even if I’m not usually up at this hour, he always is, and he’s quick to answer.
“Mr. Marshall?” he says, a bit of a rush in his voice. “What’s wrong?”
I pause with my eyes still on Elle. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”
“It’s only seven a.m., sir . . .”
A dark, heavy smirk tugs at my lips. “Fair enough. It’s simply a practical matter.”
“Ah, sure. What can I do for you?”
“Miss Lark stayed the night at my place for appearances. She’d like to go home now to prepare herself before office hours.” It comes out so smoothly, this lie, like I’m not asking Rick to bring her a getaway car. I don’t expect to see her at the office today either. “She’ll be waiting for you outside.”
“Understood,” Rick answers. “You took the G80 last night, so should I take her in my car or yours?”
“Mine, please. If you leave your keys, I’ll take yours to the office and trade with you there.”
“Of course, sir.” There’s a hesitant pause. “Are you all right?”
Damn.
I’m not as good at suppressing my feelings as I thought, if he can sense it.
Once again, my gaze gravitates to that beautiful fairy girl on the shore, soaking up the sun like a morning flower.
“I’ve been worse,” I answer faintly. “But I’ve been better too.”
“Very sorry to hear that, sir. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thanks.”
I hang up and leave my phone on the nightstand, then push the door open on the spray-dampened deck. I don’t know why I’m going outside, stepping into the chill morning air, the rising sun blazing against my eyes.
Maybe because it feels like being close to her.
If we can both soak in the sunlight, then in some small way, we’ll still be touching each other.
I walk to the deck railing and let myself watch her. I almost never see her without a smile, but right now she’s quiet, her lips parted, as much as I can make it out at this distance.
Fuck, I just want her to smile again.
The same way she did with Aunt Clara.
The same way she made Aunt Clara light up.
That’s Elle’s gift.
I hope she keeps it for the rest of her life.
I don’t know how long I watch her.
Rick lives just outside the city, but traffic at this time of morning typically isn’t that bad. It can’t be too long before I hear an approaching car. Elle doesn’t move, even as the grey dart of Rick’s sedan slides past and turns into my place.
When Rick steps out and calls out, “Miss Lark!” Elle turns.
She looks back over her shoulder and slowly raises a hand to him before bending to pick up her things.