Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 103754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
I stand in one place, hoping for anything she’ll give me. “Hey, Spark?” I laugh without an ounce of humor. “One sign. That’s all I need, and I’ll keep fighting for you. I’ll fight for another night and do it all over again tomorrow.” The shadow disappears, and hope fills my chest at the same time as the cold of our unfinished business seeps in. Lowering my head, I close my eyes and whisper, “One sign. Please.” I look up, letting my shoulders fall and my guard down, open for what comes next. I’m not the praying type, but I pray her heart hears mine. “That’s all I’m asking for. One more chance.”
Four months later . . .
“Keats Matthews. Bachelor of Science with a focus in finance.”
I walk across the stage, shaking hands with the dean of the department. I also shake Professor Johns’s hand since he’d suffered through all my texts over the past year. He’s stayed firmly in my corner since day one. I hope I’ve made him proud. He grins, and when we shake hands, he pats my arm. “Well-earned, Keats.”
“Thanks.” I take my diploma to the other side of the stage and stop for the university photographer. This is the only photo I’ll have from my graduation since no one showed up to take one. Who else is there anyway? My mom? I never expected her to show even though I had hand-delivered an invitation.
When I return to walk down the long aisle to my seat, I look up at the theater filled with family and friends of the graduates. I glance to the right, and my eyes lock with the one person who doesn’t feel real all these months later. It was only one night, and I’ll never forget it. Neither will my heart because she took it with her.
I stop dead in my tracks but mistakenly blink, and the dream is over.
CHAPTER 12
TWO YEARS LATER
SOSIE
The air is on the warmer side this cloud-free March day. I tilt my face toward the sun to soak in the rays before I check the time. “Shoot.”
I should catch a cab or call a rideshare, but after being cooped up all day in class and then trapped at the internship I need for graduation in two months, I want to stretch my legs and enjoy the fresh air. Kids run by, causing me to jump out of the way to avoid a game of tag that’s taking up most of the sidewalk. Resettling the strap of my schoolbag, I roll my eyes when an older woman yells at them for causing an unnecessary ruckus in her life.
Seems kids having a good time is just the sort of uproar she needs to shake that cranky mood of hers.
I reach for my phone to capture the lines of her face, her mouth open and shouting, and the kids, with the opposite reaction, still laughing. People's expressions as they react to life were always my favorite subjects to photograph, though I’m still partial to landscapes as well. The lonelier moments that make everyday places feel more desolate. I stop myself, pulling my hand from the pocket of my bag, and grab the bag’s strap to keep temptation at bay. I was supposed to get photography out of my system during my sabbatical, but some habits die harder than others.
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I aim my gaze at the ground and start walking. The ends of my hair drift over my shoulder. I’m still not used to it even though I’ve been growing it out for so long. I miss the ease of my shorter hair, and the lightness that it made me feel inside as well. Exhaling a long breath, I know it doesn’t matter what I want when it always comes down to appearances.
I’d almost forgotten the time again. I rush over a block and gallop down the steps to the station. The echoes of people talking, even the faint sound of a guitar being played, greet me when I’m underground. I hold my phone over the sensor and then push through the stall. Looking left, I spot the train. My train! I run just as the doors start to close, hoping someone else just ahead of me blocks the doors from closing.
No luck, but I’m not giving up. I run so fast that I slam my hands against the windows to stop myself from crashing into the closed doors entirely. “No. Ugh.” I step back. But then slam my hands against the windows again when I see the man sitting on the other side with his eyes glued to the open book in his hands. “Keats?” I yell, banging again. “Keats?”
The train shifts forward, forcing me to back up. “Keats?” My voice is drowned out as the train speeds off, sending my hair into a flurry around my face.