Page 62 of Dangerously Tempting

I’m pushing through the grass where the hill slopes downward, when I catch a glimpse of color through it. For a few steps I don’t know what I’m seeing, but when I figure it out, I freeze. My chest tightens painfully and my eyes sweep the rest of the clearing before I turn back towards Kat.

She’s standing at the top of the hill with her arms crossed, her eyes sad. There must be so much written on my face because she doesn’t even need me to say a word. “He’s not here. He wanted to follow your wishes but also wanted you to know that you’re not alone in this.”

I force out a dry laugh, turning back down the hill. I don’t think there’s a single thing he could have left here to make me feel less alone in my own mind, but I’m willing to let him try. I manage to make it all the way down without twisting my ankle and cautiously approach the blanket laid out close to the pond. The corners are weighed down by rocks and in the center rests a picnic basket.

I draw in a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, but I don’t think it’s helping. My hands are shaking as I toe off my shoes and step onto the blanket, slowly lowering myself down beside the basket. For a long time, all I can do is stare at it, somewhat afraid of what I might find there. Could something in there change my mind?

I clench my teeth, slowly extending my arm to run my fingers over the lid of the basket. I know nothing in there will be bad, because he would never do that to me, even though I’ve most likely hurt him deeply, but I still hesitate. I hesitate because somewhere in me I know that anything that he put in there is going to hurt me. It’s going to hurt because he’s still pouring into me after I sent him away, and I’m not so sure that I deserve it.

“Stop being a little bitch, Amelia,” I mutter to myself, and squeeze my eyes shut as I flip the lid back. I listen as the lid thumps open, but it takes me a few breaths before I can bring myself to open my eyes again.

Tears blur my vision immediately, and I press my lips together as I look down to what rests inside. All of my favorite things are there. The tea that I’ve been drinking for years, a candle that’s the brand and scent I have strewn throughout my apartment, fuzzy socks, a pack of hair ties—that one making me laugh through my tears—and countless other things.

To one side is a warm bag, and when I pull it open the scent of our favorite Thai place hits my nose, and I can’t help but smile through the tears. But it’s as I set that to one side, to see what’s underneath it, that I absolutely fall apart. His sweatshirt that I’ve worn countless times when staying with him is folded up and resting on top of it, along with a small bit of paper with one word scribbled across it.

Forever.

“Always,” I sob, even though he’s not here to hear the word.

I pull the sweater free of the basket, making sure the note stays safely inside, and bring the fabric to my nose. His scent washes over me, and even through my tears I know that one thing is for certain. I can do this. I can get better, and I will, not just for myself, but for him too.

34

Jameson

Playlist: "Surrender," Natalie Taylor

Two months later

My dad puts the truck into park as my mom turns in her seat, looking back at me as I look around, completely confused. They’d said they had something to show me, but there’s nothing here but trees, at least as far as I can see.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” I finally ask, and my dad laughs while my mom grins, a trait that I picked up from her, yet hate when it’s used on me. She always does it when I’m missing something and she thinks it’s hilarious or endearing. I’m sure this time is no different.

“Everybody out,” my dad calls as he opens the door and climbs out, and we both move to follow him. When I come to stand beside him, he tilts his head back and takes a deep breath. “All of it, son. You’re supposed to be looking at all of it.”

I do so, and I realize how beautiful the area is, quiet and full of life around us as the birds chirp in the trees, but I still don’t understand. “I’m looking at it just fine,” I grumble as they both look at me expectantly. “It’s serene, but I feel like I’m missing the key point here.”

Both my parents laugh, and my dad smacks an envelope I didn’t even see him holding, against my chest. “Glad you think so, because it’s yours.” I barely catch the envelope before he pulls his hands away, looking down at it before my gaze snaps back up to him.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t think that we forgot about those boyhood dreams of yours. You wanted to build your own house, do you remember that?”

“Of course I do,” I say with a laugh.

“Well, you have the talent and education to do it. And now,” he grins as my mom steps under his arm, pulling him close. “Now you have the land, too.”

My mouth hangs open as I look between them and the envelope. “You didn’t,” I say, clearly at a loss for words.

“We did,” my mom responds, smiling sweetly. “Because you have the rest of your life ahead of you, and you can shape that life in whatever way you want to. Build it up just like the house you’ve always dreamed of building.”

Tears burn in my eyes as I step towards them, and they both extend the arms not looped around each other so that they wrap me into a three person hug. My mom presses a kiss to my chin, because she’s not tall enough to fully reach my cheek, and my dad ruffles my hair like I’m 12 years old again before we pull apart.

“But this is your money. This is so much money.”

My mom rolls her eyes and my dad huffs a laugh. “We don’t want for anything, son. We have everything we could ever want,” he assures me.

“Thank you. I know those words aren’t enough, but I will do my best to make you proud,” I swear, and they both smile, even though my mom has to wipe a tear from her cheek.

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