AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Tears burn the back of my eyes as I move forward, heading straight for the bookshelves. What’s he been reading? The same books he always has, or has he branched out? Are there new ones?
Books have always been the gateway into Roman’s soul. They were the thing that connected us, the tether that brought us together. And right now, even though I’m still hurt by him, I need to feel close to him.
My fingertips run over the smooth wood of the bookshelf as I scan the spines. Names I’ve never heard of are mixed in with his favorites. There are some about tattooing, others that are so philosophical I know it’ll take me reading them at least three times before I can understand what they’re really saying.
My eyes scan the shelves again and again. With each pass, my heart sinks more.
Did he get rid of it?
A lump forms in my throat at the thought. He couldn’t have gotten rid of it. It wasn’t at home; I looked for it everywhere after he left. He had to have taken it.
But where is it?
Hands shaking, I turn my back to the shelves and scan the room again. Where would he keep it? My gaze lands on the stack of books by the bed and I nearly slap myself.
Of course.
I’m giddy as I stride across the room, my hands twisting together as I approach the books. Already, I see it. I see it. He didn’t get rid of it. He kept it.
The Brothers Karamazov.
I pull the few books off it before holding it in my shaking hands, and sink to the bed. My fingertips trace the letters on the cover, and the tape holding the thick spine together.
Carefully, I flip it open, a sob sticking in my throat as the words we’d so carelessly written in margins stare back at me. A tear lands on the already water-logged page, but I still wipe it away. It’s been well loved—damaged and taped back together, but loved.
I wipe roughly at my face as I read the words, laughing softly when I remember frustratingly reading and rereading the same sentence nine million times. It didn’t make sense, and as I reread it right now, it still doesn’t make sense.
But it made sense to Roman. Everything always did. He could analyze things in ways I’ve never seen anyone else do. He’s too smart for his own good, but always played it down like he was just a dumb jock. The stereotypical playboy.
He was so much more.
I gingerly flip the pages, scanning our faded words. What happened to this book? It’s so ruined, so destroyed, why didn’t he just get a new copy? I run my fingers along our written notes, feeling the grooves the pens made, and I smile to myself.
Did he keep it for me? So he had a way to feel close to me, too?
But I was only an hour away. Why didn’t he just come home? Why didn’t he just call me? Come back to me?
Why did he leave me in the first place?
The words burn through my brain, and I shut the book before sliding it back onto the nightstand. I can’t handle the ghosts haunting me tonight.
With a deep, shaky breath, I make my way out of his room and down the hallway. I take in the high ceilings and tall windows, still shocked this is his home. All the years I thought about him, about where he was, I never pictured him in a place like this.
But this is where he’s been, while I’ve been…
I round the corner into the kitchen, finding a shadow hunched over the island. A scream rips from my throat, panic surging through me. Their head snaps up as they scream back.
“Chase?” I cry.
“Oh my God! What are you doing? Why are you screaming?” he shouts, moving to flip the light on. It momentarily blinds me, and I squint at him, finding him in a pair of low slung sweats and nothing else. “Stop checking me out!”
“I’m not!” I slap my hand over my eyes. “Oh my God, that’s so gross. You’re like my brother. I—” The thought of being with Chase like that has me swallowing a gag.
Footsteps stomp toward us and I slam back against the wall, knowing it has to be the giant Russian. My fingers part as he steps into the kitchen, his bare, tattooed chest rising and falling as he glares at Chase.
“I have to be up in a few hours. What are you doing? Why are you screaming?” he demands, stomping forward.
“Oh, no, please don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” Chase rests his hand on Kon’s chest, flicking his eyes up at him. “Me screaming in the middle of the night is no cause for panic.”
