Authors: Pamela Sparkman
Stolen Breaths Series
Everyone loves a good love story. The stories that make you feel warm all over. The kind that leaves you the slightest bit envious because the story belongs to someone else and not you. The stories that make your heart race and on the edge of pain and pleasure. Pain because your heart hurts and pleasure because your heart hurts. An unlikely combination, yet, that’s the stuff good love stories are made of.
Ours could have been like that. We could have made a beautiful love story.
But when he was ready for that epic love story, I was afraid to fall in love, too hurt by my past to trust anyone. Then, when I was ready for the epic love story, he was gone.
And I was alone.
And the only thing I got was the pain.
It was time I told him the things that were in my heart but too afraid to say out loud.
I wrote the letter I needed to write and prayed it wasn’t too late.
You were right. I was wrong. I’ve never been more wrong in my life.
There - I said it.
I’ll say it a million times if you just come back to me.
Come back to me. Please!
I was so wrong. I do love you.
I hear music in your words, a symphony in your laugh.
You gave my soul a melody. My heart now beats a poetic drum.
And all I know is I need to hear your song for the rest of my life.
~ X Ambassadors
er best friend found me sitting alone in the café. I guess she knew where to find me. It wasn’t hard. I was always sitting alone in the café, because it was where Sophie worked and I liked being near her. Though, she wasn’t here now and I likely wouldn’t see her again anytime soon.
“She’s heartbroken, you know.”
Never once stealing a glance her way, I murmured, “I know.”
“You should go to her. I’ve never seen her like this.”
I closed my eyes, recalling the last words Sophie had said to me. It was what I’d been doing for the last two hours. In fact, her last words felt like they were woven around my neck like a noose, choking the life out of me.
“Charles, look at me.”
I didn’t. “She doesn’t want to see me.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Believe it.” I turned to face her so she could see my pain, my broken heart, and then redirected my eyes back out the window. “Besides, it’s probably better this way.”
Her friend slid in the booth across from me. “Better for whom? Her or you?”
“For both of us I suppose.”
With a sigh, she made the request again. “Please look at me, Charles.”
Hesitantly, I granted her request. Her eyes wore empathy, and her smile held regret. “I know you told her you were leaving tomorrow and I know she hasn’t admitted it to you yet, but she loves you. You have to know that.”
Swallowing the ache I felt, I nodded. “I know.”
“Well if you know then why are you sitting here? Why aren’t you with her trying to–”
“I know what I’m doing,” I said, standing abruptly. I reached into my pocket, pulled out some money, and slapped it down on the table. “I’m giving her what she wants.”
Standing beside me and getting in my face, she said, “Yeah? And what is that exactly?”
Ignoring her question, I headed for the door. She followed, nipping at my heels all the way.
“I can’t believe you! You’re just gonna leave without another word…just like that?”
Once outside, I spun around and gripped her shoulders, startling her when I did something I never do…I raised my voice. “Yes! That’s exactly what I’m gonna do!”
Her eyes darted back and forth between mine while she tried to make sense of it all. “But…why?”
I loosened my grip and stated in a softer tone, hoping I could make her understand, “Because it’s the only way she’ll ever admit that she made a mistake. I have to let her think she lost me, Elizabeth, and you have to let her think that too.”
“I don’t understand. You should fight for her.”
I took a step back and looked her right in the eyes. “I
fighting for her. I’ve
fighting for her.” I bowed my head, feeling the gaping hole inside my chest where my heart used to be, and in a whisper said, “It’s her turn to fight for me.”