I managed to get away from my colleagues when I looked across the room and saw Joshua dancing with the woman from earlier. A weird sound escaped my mouth when I saw him lean down and say something meant only for her to hear. Just as he rose, he looked up and our eyes met again. My belly quivered, not for the first time at the sight of those emerald eyes, which held just a hint of danger in them. Without my permission, I was thrown back to the last day I’d seen those eyes up close.
****
Then
The heaviness in my heart grew with each passing step as I hiked through the wooded trail. A few feet ahead of me, Joshua kept up a steady pace, but his head was hung low. The burden of what we were doing on this trail weighed us both down. We were getting closer. The thunderous sounds of the waterfall grew louder with each step. My heart rate quickened in anticipation and the load on my chest doubled. I’d waited for years to finally see this place and the one person I wanted to see it with wouldn’t be there.
That wasn’t entirely true. Technically speaking, Chelsea was there.
My eyes misted as I gazed up ahead in Joshua’s direction and saw the beautiful gold and ceramic urn he held carefully in his arm.
“You okay?”
I inhaled and peered up, my gaze clashing into emerald green orbs that were devoid of their usual shine.
“Yeah.” I nodded, lying.
His eyes continued to rove over my face, assessing my mood.
Guilt swirled in my chest. He was hurting just as much as I was, if not more, but here he was looking out for me.
“We’re almost there.”
I nodded again, unable to speak when an unfamiliar warmth flooded my veins when he took my left hand in his. I sucked in air and let him lead me the remaining distance to the waterfall. He was right. In less than five minutes of us walking hand in hand, I glanced up and my breathing hitched. There stood a twenty-foot waterfall, spilling into crystal clear water. I could actually count the smooth, earth-colored stones that sat at the bottom of the lake, undisturbed by the rushing water above. My eyes danced around the forest surrounding us. The greenery was still dripping with water from the thunderstorm that’d passed earlier that day. Inhaling my lungs filled with the scent of the moss and trees mixed with the dampness in the air.
“She said this place was majestic.” A lump formed in my throat when I felt Joshua’s hand tighten around mine. I was about to pull my hand from his, but when I looked over my shoulder to see his profile, I thought better of it.
In spite of the sadness written all over his handsome face, he chuckled. “Leave it to Chels to use words likemajestic.”
“Yeah,” I laughed, too. “She was such a geek … and a romantic.” I’d meant it to be funny but my voice broke on the last word and a sob escaped my lips, the tears now coming. I can’t recall how or when but I found myself bracketed in strong, muscular arms. His hold was tight, almost too tight, but for some reason, not tight enough. I gulped in air, trying to force myself to stop crying. That time my nostrils filled with the odor of lavender, cardamom, and cedar. His signature scent.
I could stay here forever.
Thankfully, that thought alone shook some good sense into me and I pulled back, albeit reluctantly.
“I’m sorry. This is hard for you, too. You shouldn’t have to comfort me.” I wiped away the tears that’d fallen but they kept coming.
“Don’t be sorry,” he affirmed, cupping my chin and raising my gaze to meet his.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, as I peered up into his eyes, that held a darkness I always found intriguing. I stepped back and looked around.
“I hate that she’s not here.” Sighing, I ran a hand through my unruly mane of curls. “She talked about this place so much when you two first found it. She promised to bring me as soon as my doctors gave the approval after my transplant.” But then she got sick. I unconsciously ran my hand over my abdomen, feeling the two-year-old scar that ran down the entire length of my stomach. I hated that my illness had stolen so many moments of my life.
“Don’t do that,” his deep voice urged, thick with sadness.
I looked up. “Do what?”
“Blaming yourself for time lost. Chels would be pissed if she were here.”
I blew out a frustrated breath. “I know. I just … wish it could’ve been different. She loved being outdoors but she spent so much time inside with me when I was sick or in the hospital.”
“And you returned the favor.”
I gave him a weak smile but didn’t say anything. I wouldn’t suck him into my regret. Instead, I watched as he carefully shifted the urn from his left to his right arm, and began rooting around in the pocket of his shorts. I wrinkled my brows when he pulled something out, but then I gasped when I realized what it was. In between his thumb and pointer finger he held a stunning diamond ring, that to my untrained eye looked to be at least two carats. The band was surrounded by smaller diamonds.
“I bought it the day before she was diagnosed.” His voice was as heavy as the grief I felt. I reached out, grasping his hand for comfort the same way he’d done to mine earlier. “I was going to wait until after graduation …” He paused, angling his head, looking at the ring as if it held the answers to some mystery.
“But then she got sick,” he continued. “I put off asking, wanting the timing to be right.”
