Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
But instead, I stay where I am, holding onto my pride, clinging to the last shred of distance between us. Because as much as I hate admitting it, Slate’s right about one thing.
We’re here. Together. And whatever this is between us, it’s not going away anytime soon.
Chapter Six
Slate
Snow piles against the window, turning the night into a white blur. But inside, the fire crackles low, filling the space with flickering shadows that dance across the floor and lick at the rough wooden beams overhead. I lean back against the hearth, letting the heat seep into my bones, but it does nothing for the tightness coiled in my chest.
I keep my eyes on Emma, sitting across the room, the blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders like she’s trying to keep out more than just the cold. She’s staring into the flames, her face shadowed and tense, her expression the kind that warns me she’s holding back a storm of her own. It’s been hours since either of us spoke, the silence thick with things left unsaid. But I can’t ignore the pull between us—the way it stretches taut, unbroken by time or distance.
“Remember those nights by the lake?” My voice cuts through the quiet, rougher than I mean it to be. “When we’d stay out there until dawn, talking about everything we wanted to do?”
She looks up, surprise flashing in her eyes before she hides it behind that cool, practiced mask. She doesn’t answer right away, but when she does, her voice is softer than I’ve heard in years. “Yeah. I remember. You used to say you’d build a cabin out here one day, live away from everyone.” A small smile tugs at her lips, but there’s a sadness in it that digs into me. “Guess you got your wish.”
Her words hit like a knife twist, but I keep my expression steady. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, refusing to let her look away. “And you—you wanted to see the world. Shoot for those big magazines, win awards. Hell, you talked about it like you’d be gone for a lifetime.”
Emma’s smile falters, her gaze slipping back to the fire like she’s looking for answers in the flames. “Maybe I thought I had to be gone that long to figure things out.”
There’s something in her voice that tugs at the wound I thought I’d buried, the one she left behind. I can hear the unspoken regrets, the pain she’s not willing to put into words. But I can’t let it go. Not now. “So why’d you do it, Emma?” I press, needing to understand, to unravel the mystery that’s haunted me for too damn long. “Why leave without a word?”
Her shoulders tense under the blanket, and she pulls it tighter around herself, like she’s trying to build a wall between us. “It wasn’t that simple, Slate,” she says, but there’s a crack in her voice, and I know I’ve hit a nerve.
I push myself up, crossing the small space between us in two steps until I’m standing right in front of her, looking down, forcing her to face me. “Then explain it to me. Make it make sense, because for the life of me, I still don’t get it.”
She looks up, meeting my eyes, her own gaze flashing with something raw, something that cuts deeper than the cold outside. “You think I wanted to leave? You think I wanted to—” Her voice breaks, and she bites her lip, fighting to hold back whatever she’s feeling. But I see it there, in her face, in the cracks she’s trying so hard to keep hidden.
I crouch down in front of her, close enough that I can see the way the firelight catches the gold in her eyes, feel the heat of her breath against my skin. I drop my voice, roughened with frustration and something deeper, something I don’t want to name. “Tell me, Emma. I’m right here.”
Her eyes flick to my mouth, lingering there for a beat too long before she catches herself and looks away. Her lips press together, but the words spill out anyway, a confession dragged out by the shadows between us. “I was scared, okay? I was scared that if I stayed, I’d hold you back. That I’d never find out if I could make it on my own.”
She squeezes her eyes shut, a tear slipping free before she can catch it. Without thinking, I reach out, brushing the tear away with my thumb, letting my touch linger against her cheek. The softness of her skin under my fingers makes something twist in my chest, something that’s been wound too tight for too long.
Her eyes snap open at the touch, and the air between us shifts, charged with a tension that’s as undeniable as it is dangerous. My thumb grazes her cheek, and her breath hitches, her gaze locking with mine like she’s searching for something she’s afraid to find.