Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
My heart knows he’s wrong. Something inside me has known since I was six years old that Alex Fox is meant to be mine. I’ve never understood it or even questioned it. It was just something I knew—like knowing my favorite color or flavor. It was that simple.
But I’ve also instinctively known anything concerning Alex requires patience.
Which, thankfully, I have loads of.
“I really like when you call me that,” I tell him, swinging my feet above the water. “It makes my heart jump around.”
“Then I should probably stop.”
“You better not.”
The crickets resume their little chorus of chirps.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about after graduation,” I admit. “I don’t think I’m moving to California. I’m going to stay here in town.” I want him to know I’m not someone else in his life who’s going to disappear.
“How do your parents feel about that?”
“They understand. I’ve always had a somewhat distant relationship with them, even when they were here. We get along better when we don’t try to force it. They just want me to be happy.” In a subtle attempt to make my feelings clear, I add, “And this is where I’m happiest.”
He throws me another sideways glance—complete with a grin that tells me he picked up my hint. “Then the road to happiness is the one you should take.”
At the edge of the lake, a frog leaps in with a plop, sending slow ripples across the surface of the water.
“Why did you stop taking the happy roads, Alex?” I ask. “I know losing Brianna changed your life in horrible ways, but why did you give up pursuing your dreams? That art agent keeps calling, and you send her to voice mail every time.”
He leans back on his palms. “Now you sound like Kelley.”
“Because we care about you.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not, though. Not really. You’re in limbo. It’s like time has just stopped here. I’ve known you for almost twelve years, and nothing has changed. Other than Cherry passing,” I say sadly. “You’re still even wearing the same clothes. Everything in the house is exactly as it was the first time I came here. You still won’t drive. You won’t take your career to the next level. This place…it feels like home. I feel it, too. It’s safe and comforting and warm and cozy. I love it. But it’s also all slowly falling apart, like an old, abandoned house with no one to live in it and love it. And you’re right in the middle of it.”
He’s eerily quiet for a few moments and I hope I haven’t upset him, but finally, he says in a tone so low I have to strain to hear him, “You’re right.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way. You don’t have to leave here. You don’t have to let go or forget. You don’t have to feel guilty. But you can move forward and do things that make you happy. You deserve to live your life.”
He bows his head, and his hair falls over his face. “I want to. I just… I don’t know how to explain it.” His low, tortured voice pierces my heart like a dagger. “I just can’t get out of this hole. I can’t forget what happened.”
“Alex…” I say softly. “Look at me.”
When he doesn’t, I touch his chin and turn him toward me. Holding his face in my hands, I gaze at his handsome features. I don’t even see the eye patch. I see two beautiful, soulful eyes.
“Listen to me,” I say, my face just inches from his. “It was an accident. It’s not your fault Brianna died. It’s not your fault Lily was taken from you. It’s not your fault your parents left you.” A tear slips from his eye, and it crushes my heart. “Your art deserves to be seen. You deserve to love and be loved. You have the universe’s permission to be happy.”
Tears fall down his cheek, wetting my fingers. His chest heaves with deep breaths.
“It’s okay, Fox,” I whisper as I put my arms around him. “It’s okay for you to keep living.”
He sighs against me as I hold him in my arms, and we stay there quietly until his breathing calms.
“Fuck,” he says after a few minutes. Pulling away, he wipes the side of his face with his hand. “I’m a mess.”
“You’re not. Not at all.”
He blows out a breath and pins me with an intense look. “No one’s ever said those things to me in that way before. And hearing them from you…for some reason, it hit hard.”
“I’m glad. You needed to hear it.”
Chewing the inside of his cheek, he looks toward the barn, then to where his old rusty truck is parked, then to the shed and the spot where Cherry is buried, then to the house.
“I did,” he agrees, swooping his gaze back to me. “And now I’m starting to see just how much.”