Page 71 of When We Had Forever
My heart skips. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”
“How?”
I smile slyly. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”
He gives me a considering look before we board the plane and settle in for the long flight to Oahu. During takeoff, he tenses, but when we level off at cruising altitude and the seat belt sign goes dark, he flips up the armrest and takes my hands.
“You want proof?”
“Desperately,” I say.
“I love these fingers.” He kisses each one. “The way they make that clacking noise when you type. How ordinary it sounds, except the words coming out are anything but.”
Something catches in my throat. “You mean my medical articles?”
“No. Your travelogues.”
I would startle if I didn’t find the movement of his thumbs across the backs of my hands so soothing. I haven’t written a travelogue in years, and had come to consider my long-ago dream of travel writing as taboo a subject as Lily. But maybe that’s just me. MaybeI’mthe one who locked up that fantasy and threw away the key.
His fingers trail up my arms, leaving electric ripples in their wake. “And I love these shoulders, the way they hunch up when you’re brushing your teeth. Like you’re worried someone’s going to sneak up and steal your toothpaste.”
I blink. Do I do that?
“And these ears.” He fondles one lobe. “I love how this one’s rounded at the tip, but the other one has the slightest point. It’s subtle. But adorable. Like a secret someone can only discover if they’re paying attention.”
My breath dwindles. My god. It’s just my ear, but lightning strikes my core, a direct hit.
“And these eyes.” He tugs me close. “I could stare into them all day. All year. All my life.”
For long moments, he does exactly that. I can’t breathe. I just gaze back for some delirious amount of time measured in heartbeats instead of seconds.
“Do you believe me now?” he says.
A smile more genuine than any I’ve felt in months blossoms on my face. “I’m getting there. But you might have to keep this up. Until I’m fully convinced.”
He chuckles. The sound slides into the base of my stomach and pulls everything tight, and I wonder how on earth I’m going to keep from ripping his clothes off for the next ten days. Because it’s working. We’ve barely left the ground, but already, the freedom of hurtling through the sky, the promise of an island my feet have never touched before, these compliments, holy shit, thesecompliments—everything simmers in my blood, effervescent.
Michael laces his long fingers through mine. As our palms lock together, something clicks inside me, and I think,This man was the right choice.
And he always will be, as long as he’s holding my hand.
AFTER
I run until the forest blurs. Fallen branches snatch at my feet. Only when my heart threatens to smash through my rib cage and my vision fades at the edges do I chance a look behind me.
Nothing but empty forest.
I stop and double over, clutching at my knees. An inane giggle erupts, then fades when I realize what I’ve done. I never should have run. Not from abear.
I’m just lucky she didn’t chase me. So purely, stupidly lucky.
When the tightness in my lungs eases, I raise my head. Shadows crowd the forest, longer and bluer than expected, and I rub at my arms. Damn. I have no idea where I am, and it’s getting darker and colder by the minute. Which means I need to concentrate. Figure out how to get back to the cabin.
With a steadying breath, I unsling my backpack, then zip on my extra jacket and guzzle my entire bottle of water. I still remember Michael’s process from all those years ago and perform a rough calculation—I entered the forest going north, then ran toward the setting sun, so now my house should lie...
I choose a southeastern bearing, then adjust fifteen degrees to the west, like he taught me. If I aim for the cabin and miss in the easterly direction, I’ll enter open wilderness. But if I intentionally overshoot the other way, I’ll run into the road at some point. Better to do that and walk back than risk wandering into miles of empty woods.
I set off, making enough noise to warn off foraging bears. How could I have forgotten they always come out around twilight?
