Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Church bells toll at Grossmünster, indicating the start of Sunday services. The melody always begins with the smaller bells, their higher-pitched tones dancing lightly on the air as if to say good morning. The music echoes off the walls of the nearby buildings and weaves through the streets. As the smaller bells continue their rhythm, a deeper, more resonant tone joins in—the Karls glocke. It’s the bell from the southern tower, the oldest and largest, and its sound is profound, almost like a heartbeat. Its toll always reaches into my chest, and right now it offers a grateful reprieve from my heartache.
A shadow falls across my table and I lift my head, assuming it’s the waitress checking on me. I blink as I take in the silhouette of a tall man, sun rays bursting from behind him and obscuring his face.
But only a moment before my head begins to swim.
Am I hallucinating or is Trey Blackburn staring down at me, his green eyes determined as they lock with mine?
“Holland,” he says tenderly, and my breath is carried right away as his baritone voice sinks into me.
“Trey,” I rasp, my throat dry. “What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t ask permission, merely pulls out the wrought iron chair perpendicular to me and settles into it. It’s as if everything else stills… the tolling bells, the bustling street noise… until it’s just us, frozen in the here and now.
Trey doesn’t answer my question but lets his gaze roam the area with intense concentration. When his attention comes back to me, he says, “It’s beautiful here.”
“Very,” I admit in a whisper.
He nods. “Seems like an amazing place to live and work.”
I have no clue where he’s going with this, but I’m compelled to admit, “It is.”
Trey nods again, glancing across the street to Bücherwelt, a small bookstore offering both classic and contemporary literature, art books and unique Swiss publications. I follow his gaze there and when his head turns back my way, I’m helpless… my eyes are drawn right back to him, although my voice doesn’t seem to be working.
Trey taps his finger against his chin and then shrugs. “Then I guess I’d be down with living here.”
That knocks me out of my stupor and I can’t help but come off as more offended than astounded. “Excuse me?”
Trey bobs his head, his eyes alight with determination as if this is the best idea he’s ever had. “Yeah… I’m sure I could find something here. I mean… hell, I waited tables to earn extra money, so I can do that. And I’m sure there are stables around. Didn’t you say you rode here? I’ll make enough to contribute to our joint finances and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say, holding up a hand. “What the hell are you talking about?” Trey opens his mouth, but I shake my head. “No, wait… start with my original question… why are you here?”
His slight smile melts and his jaw tightens. His eyes bore into me with a seriousness I’ve never seen from him before. It’s something more than the regret of when he broke up with me the first time, and far more profound than when we ended things after Wade died.
Trey sighs, leans forward, and his eyes bore into me. “Nothing sounds right.” He rubs his hand across his jaw, his expression frustrated. “I’ve practiced my apology over and over again, and it sounds too trite. Like… there’s nothing I can say to make up for the hurt I’ve caused you, not once, but twice. So why am I here? I’m here to try to find the right words to get you back and I’m coming up short. All I could think was to just tell you I’ll move here and then I’ll pester you, eventually charm you, into taking me back.”
I shouldn’t be amused by him pouring out his angst but the way he ends on an even bigger sigh has my lips twitching. He doesn’t see it though, instead taking my hand in his and peering at it. “I’m sorry. I made a mistake. I let my guilt and grief cloud my judgment, and I pushed you away. I thought I was doing the right thing each time, but I was wrong. So fucking wrong, and I don’t even have anything to offer for you to trust me again. I’ve fucked up twice and yet, here I am, asking for another chance. Honest to God, Holland, you should be running away from me right now. I lost you due to my own stupidity and misplaced sense of right and wrong, and—”
“You didn’t lose me,” I say.
“What?” His eyes are wide, disbelieving. “Say that again.”
“You didn’t lose me,” I repeat, stronger this time. “I was waiting for you to come to your senses. I’ve been waiting for you to call and tell me you’d made a mistake. I didn’t expect you to fly here and hit me with an apology, but I expected one. I think I knew deep down that you and I weren’t done, but I didn’t know how long it would take you to get your head out of your ass.”