Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
After a quick internet search, I find the lighthouse. And I go. I just go to him.
The beacon is on when I arrive at the red lighthouse.
There doesn’t seem to be any technical need for it, because the moon is full in the gray night sky, not a cloud to block its beams. The ocean spreads out at its feet, empty of boats.
Somehow I know he left it on for me.
Somehow I know it has been on every night for two weeks.
Just like the drawing on the bottom of my mattress, there is a house attached to the lighthouse. It’s modest, rustic and beautiful, surrounded by a rambling garden. The sound of waves crashing against the cliffs helps soothe the ripped edges inside of me, but not enough. I’ll never be soothed a moment of my life without him.
It’s a truth I accepted on my hour-long drive to the coast.
This love between me and Evan might have dark shades, might have nuances that people wouldn’t understand. It might even be wrong. But it’s right for us.
This man held me up, reminded me I’m strong, showed me love.
I’m not leaving him deserted.
My gaze is drawn to the very top of the lighthouse and I make out the outline of a man’s body. Not just any man’s body, though. It’s my husband. Tall, powerful…forlorn. I can read the anguish in his stooped shoulders as he looks out at the ocean.
A sob rises up in my throat and I move quickly toward the lighthouse, tears blurring my vision. I have to circle the base to find the entrance. When I do, I pull open the door, letting the ocean wind carry it and climb the spiral staircase, my heart starting slamming against my eardrums.
When I’m a few steps from the top, his voice, a mere scratch of sound, reaches me.
“Who’s there?”
I reach the top. There is a circular railing separating us, an opening in the center where the huge, rotating light is positioned. Evan hasn’t even turned around to see who is coming. His big hands are pressed to the glass, his head bowed forward.
“It’s me,” I manage.
It doesn’t occur to me until that moment, when he doesn’t turn around, that maybe I’ve lost him. I called him a psychopath. He poured his heart out to me and I walked away. Maybe I’ve broken him. Or maybe he’s hardened his heart—
Slowly, he pivots, his expression one of disbelief. “Jolie?”
A miserable sound leaves me at seeing him so haggard. His eyes are bloodshot, rimmed in dark circles. He hasn’t shaved in weeks, black whiskers occupying his cheeks, jaw, chin. He’s lost weight, his skin is sallow. He’s lost.
“I found your map.”
He grips the railing, knuckles white. “I can’t believe…you went looking for it.”
I go toward him with measured steps, traveling the curve of the lighthouse. “You found me the biggest light possible,” I murmur. “How could I stay away from a man who loves me that much? A man who loves me so much he’d change his name, his life, spend his days watching and protecting me? Listening to every word out of my mouth so he can please me?”
His eyes burn. “Some might say you should be terrified of a man like that.”
“They’re wrong,” I whisper.
Something inside of Evan snaps and he barrels toward me, catching me up in his arms, sinking down to his knees with me wrapped around him. With us wrapped around each other, inhaling the scents of one another’s skin, clawing to get closer. Closer.
“I’m dying without you,” he rasps into my neck.
“You don’t have to be without me anymore.”
“Jolie…I’ll never be normal when it comes to you. I’ll never be a husband who waves goodbye while you go shopping or out on some girls’ night. It just won’t fucking happen.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I want every part of you.”
“Forever?”
“Forever.”
That wild light comes on in his eyes. The one I’ve only seen glimpses of before. But this time it’s not fleeting. It doesn’t go away. And I know it’s going to be there permanently. My body responds with a swift surge of lust, my heart expanding, pounding, my existence narrowed down to the man who looks at me like I’m the ultimate treasure.
“Then bring me back to life, angel eyes.” He lays me down. “So I can spend a hundred years keeping you in my sights.”
Epilogue
Jolie
Five years later
I glance in the rearview mirror and a thrill rides over my skin.
Where is he?
I’ve been out shopping and haven’t caught sight of my husband once, but I know he’s there. He’s never far. Always watching. But today he’s being extra cagey. His car is nowhere in sight. The narrow road to our lighthouse by the sea usually has very few cars, so I can spot him trailing me, but all that stretches behind me now is an empty dirt lane.