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But will be whispered to the void
Where silence welcomes the unworthy
But you are worthy
Without history to judge us
We will trust again…
Her voice was like a melody, putting me in an imaginative trance. The rise and fall of her breaths against the microphone. The cadence. The rhythm. The meaning.
I opened my eyes to see the woman who’d opened my eyes to the world and made me trust again.
Emily’s dance with words was unlike anything I’d ever heard before. As her dark hair cascaded down her shoulders and her eyes lit up with the thrill of poetic storytelling, I knew that this was the woman I was meant to be with.
Now, I just needed to show her the sign.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Emily
As quickly as he came, he left. It felt like he took a piece of me with him, but I knew I needed all the time I had left here to work on my project. My hope was to turn in a very rough draft of poems to my agent that could be the basis of the story about Grandma Cecilia. I was already at the halfway point because instead of sleeping at night, I’d been listening to the sounds outside and trying to distract myself with writing poetry.
But I needed every second of time I had here because I was pretty certain that the moment I got back to Marigold, I’d become swept up in life back home, and I had to admit, I couldn’t wait.
It had been two entire weeks since Lucas had left, and we’d still been texting nonstop, and we’d made sure to have our phone dates.
Those were always fun.
As I poured some cereal into a bowl, my phone buzzed.
Expecting it to be Lucas, I was surprised to see a number I didn’t recognize. I opened it up and took a mouthful of cereal as I read the message.
I set the phone down and read it again, slurping on another spoonful of cereal.
I couldn’t quite fathom what I was seeing.
While the cat is away, the mice will play.
I stared at the photo of Clara sitting at the orchard of Lucas’s grandparents. She wasn’t in the area they used for the public gatherings. She was sitting on the steps out back, overlooking the water.
Anger nipped inside me as I stared at her words and the smirk on her face.
But I didn’t see Lucas. He was either smart enough not to be photographed or dumb enough to think she wouldn’t document her visit.
Lucas wasn’t dumb.
I forwarded the photo to him and slurped another spoonful of cereal into my mouth.
He answered instantly.
Why did you send me a pic of Clara?
I wrote back.
I’m trying to figure out why she sent me a picture of herself at your family’s estate?
A minute or two passed by before I received another text.
