Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
My chest tightens as the details come rushing back.
The dazzling lights strung across the lawn, the elegant music, the finely dressed guests drinking champagne and fluttering like butterflies from one group to another. While Earl muttered about their empty grandeur, I remember laughing, the kind of laugh that makes you feel invincible, as if the world could never touch me so long as we were together. I agreed with him. Their world was indeed meaningless.
Before I can even arrange the idea, my legs are already moving toward the tree. My hands tremble as they reach for the lowest branch. The bark scrapes against my palm, rough and unyielding, but I don’t stop. I can’t. I need to find something. It’s proof. Proof of who we used to be because, at that moment, I’m unconvinced we ever had a relationship or I called him the love of my life.
The climb is awkward and graceless, my movements hindered by my sandals. My foot slips once, and a gasp escapes me as the bark scrapes against my shin. It stings, but I press on. The branches groan under my weight, but I don’t care.
My hands grope along the trunk, searching. We left our mark. A carving, something to prove we were here. I reach higher, my fingers brushing frantically against rough edges, searching and searching around the place where we had been perched on, our bodies touching.
I find nothing.
The tears come before I can stop them. Hot and unrelenting, they blur my vision as I clutch the tree, my forehead resting against the bark. “Why can’t I find it?” I whisper to no one, my voice breaking. “Why isn’t it here?”
The tears fall freely, each one carrying all my frustrations, my sense of helplessness, and my grief for a version of myself that was lost long ago. For a while, the world is a silent witness to my quiet sobs among the gently rustling of leaves.
Then a harsh voice cuts suddenly through the stillness, furious and cold.
“What the hell are you doing up there? Are you trying to break your neck?”
My heart lurches. Startled, I look down and find Earl standing beneath the tree, his arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on me with a mixture of anger and something I can’t quite place. The sight of him, standing there like an avenging god, sends a shiver down my spine.
“Get down,” he orders, his tone clipped and hard.
For a moment, I can’t move. My hands grip the branch tighter, tears still cling to my lashes. I stare down at him. All the anger, the pain, the longing I’ve tried so hard to bury swirls inside me like a hurricane.
“No,” I say defiantly. “Not unless you come up here and help me find it.”
CHAPTER 26
EARL
“Find what?” I ask sharply, staring up at her. She’s perched on a branch like some stubborn bird refusing to come down. “Come down before you hurt yourself.”
She shakes her head. “What do you care?” she throws back at me and leans back against the tree trunk.
“Fuck this,” I mutter. What an infuriating brat she has turned out to be. I turn on my heel and start walking away. Let her stay up there. Let her stew in her own ridiculousness. But as I take a few steps, a knot tightens in my chest. One slip, one misstep, and she’ll fall. She’ll break something. Worse.
I curse under my breath and spin around on my heel. Damn her. And damn me for caring.
When I reach the base of the tree again, I grab onto the nearest branch and hoist myself up.
“Right. What the fuck are you looking for, Raven? Are you insane?” My voice rises as I climb higher, each word laced with exasperation.
She doesn’t even look at me. Her focus is fixed on something near the tree trunk, her gaze wide and filled with wonder? It stops me in my tracks, mid-climb. For a moment, the morning sunlight catches her face, illuminating an expression I haven’t seen in years—pure, unfiltered joy.
“Look,” she whispers, her voice trembling but full of something I can’t quite place. “I found it. I found us.”
I follow her gaze, and there it is. Carved into the bark, weathered but unmistakable—our names, enclosed in a heart. The memory crashes into me like a wave. I can still feel the knife in my hand, the bark giving way as I carved it out for her all those years ago. Back then, it had felt permanent, unbreakable. Back then, I had believed in forever.
Now? Now it feels like a sick joke.
Before I can stop myself, I reach into my pocket and pull out the penknife I always carry. I flick it open, and slash the gleaming blade across the carving of my name. The letters splinter, the grooves disappearing into jagged scratches.