Ten years of wondering if she was alive, if she was safe, if someone else was touching her the way I should have been.
The thought alone makes my jaw tighten.
She should have been mine this whole time.
We should have grown up together.
I should have been the one walking her home from school.
The one stealing kisses on her front porch swing.
The one learning every secret expression on her face that no one else could read.
Instead, I got one traumatic memory and a decade of rage.
She’s sitting so close, looking like something that walked right out of my dreams.
My body moves before my brain catches up.
One slow step forward.
Just one.
The urge to reach for her is so strong it feels physical, like my muscles are fighting against me. I want to feel her skin beneath my hands. I want to bury my face in her hair and finally learn what she smells like. I want to wrap her arms around my neck and promise her between kisses that no one will ever touch her again.
No one will ever hurt her again.
My fingers flex slowly back into fists.
Control yourself, Vale.
I drag in a breath that scrapes my lungs, and I know I need to watch myself because her head perks up like she heard me. I know it’s impossible, but I swear she seems aware that I’m here, or at the very least that someone is here watching her.
Then I reach into the pocket of my hoodie, and my fingers close around the soft fabric that I’ve held onto for a decade.
The pink fabric with tiny white hearts scattered around it is faded now from years of being carried everywhere with me.
It fell out of her hair the night her parents were murdered. Everything moved so fast. One minute I was covering her mouth so the person who killed her parents wouldn’t hear her cries and the next sirens screamed and strangers pulled her away from me.
I rub my thumb across the fabric slowly.
No one will ever take you away from me again, baby.
She pauses suddenly, her pen stills against the page, and then she lifts her head.
Livy’s eyes sweep the room again.
Toward the exact spot where I’m concealed. My pulse jumps. Even though it’s impossible, it feels like she’s staring into my soul. It feels like she heard every single thought I’ve had about her.
That’s right, baby. You know I’m watching you.
We’re going to be together. I can promise that, and I have never broken a promise I’ve made to her. Even if she wasn’t there to hear it.
She stares for a moment like she can feel something she can’t quite see, and then she exhales softly and stands abruptly.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She walks toward the book stacks.
