Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Something next to it.
I jolt to a stop.
My heart begins to thrum in my chest, quickly working its way up to a full-blown clatter. I don’t want to approach, and yet my feet slowly carry me to the bar, the small object set next to my martini becoming clearer.
A snow globe.
A white feather, encased in ice, floating in the center.
I look around the bar, noting I’m alone, until Julio comes through the staff door. “Did you put that there?” I ask, pointing at it with a limp finger. He shakes his head but doesn’t look surprised to see it. “Then who—”
“But I did put this here.” Julio sets something else on the bar. A small flip calendar, the kind someone would have on their desk, maybe twenty years ago. He fiddles with it for a second, turning month after month.
Until he arrives at December.
He disappears back through the staff door, leaving me alone in the bar with my drink, the snow globe, and the small desk calendar. My chest pumps with the force of my breathing as I blindly lower my arse to the stool, my eyes lasers on the name of the month. This month. The worst month of my life.
I don’t want to flip the page to December 1st.
I do want to flip the page.
Visions of the calendar on Dec’s fridge invade my mind, all the memories noted of him and Albi, one for each day. To think he’s made notes of each day he’s known me, too, scares me to death. I clasp my hands together to try and stop them shaking, a conflicting tug of war in my heart repeatedly pulling me from hopeful to cautious. I pick up my drink and take a healthy glug. Then I brave reaching for the calendar and turn the first page, holding my breath as I do.
* * *
December 1st
Only my boy has ever made my heart twinge. Today, you did. I’ve never seen such a beautifully dull diamond.
December 2nd
I nearly went back to the bar today just to see if you were there. There’s something about you. I need to know what.
I inhale, the words blurring through my welling eyes. I let them fall, needing to clear them so I can read on.
December 3rd
I couldn’t resist going to the bar today. You weren’t there.
* * *
December 4th
You smell like martinis and regrets. And for my sins, I want to know what that tastes like.
December 5th
All I’ve done since I left you was worry whether you’d go back to the bar and hook up with another guy. I don’t want you to, and I don’t think you want to either. You opened up to me a little today. I know I’m right to pursue this. I can be patient.
December 6th
You smiled today, and I realised I’m falling for you.
December 7th
You tried to push me away tonight. And all the silent lies are building. As are my feelings.
December 8th
It was everything. More than everything. I tasted your sadness, and I felt your hope. And you looked just so fucking beautiful.
December 9th
I can still feel you on my lips. Taste you on my tongue. I hope it lingers until I see you again.
I find myself flipping through the days, needing his thoughts more with each one I read. A timeline of our relationship—an insight into Dec’s mind. What he felt.
December 10th
It’s snowing. My little fella is beside himself. I have a feeling you won’t be. And not because you hate snow. What’s your story, Camryn?
December 11th
I missed Albi’s bedtime to see you. And you bailed. I just don’t know why you’d do that. To me. To you.
December 12th
Today I walked out of my office and found you frozen on the pavement. You kissed me. I heard every word you said with that kiss. It didn’t scare me. But it’s the words you didn’t say that terrify me.
Because I love you too.
My hands shake as I turn to the next day, my throat thick with emotion.
December 13th
You opened up today about your mum. But there’s more. I know there’s more. And I so desperately wanted to tell you about Albi, but something stopped me.
December 14th
I woke up and my heart dropped.
Then I read your message. You didn’t run.
December 15th
I don’t even know what to write. But I know that I love you. And I’m petrified it's not going to be enough.
December 16th
40 today. I wish I could have spent it with you. I’ve only ever been this scared once in my life—when I found out I was going to be a dad. I might be more scared now because I just don’t know how to tell you about Albi, and more than that, how you’ll take it.
December 17th
I spent the day still trying to figure out how the fuck I tell a woman who’s lost a little boy that I have what she lost. And you lied to me about the cut on your face. Why?