Page 53 of Shattered Echoes

"I am," I whisper, lifting a hand to trace the strong, uncompromising line of his jaw in wonderment. "I really am."

His brow furrows slightly as he searches my face for any lingering shadows. But after a moment, Antonio's features relax into expressing such tender adoration that it damn near buckles my knees. My heart hammers against my ribcage, the steady staccato filling my ears. Antonio leans in to kiss me, the touch filled with so much emotion; it rips through me like a lightning strike. I melt into his embrace, surrendering to the pull of our connection once more.

He lets me up for air, his lips brushing sweet nothings across my brow, cheeks, and eyelids. Every graze of his mouth is like a salve, soothing the raw, fractured parts of me that have been so meticulously scabbed over.

"Christ, Colette," he murmurs in quiet reverence, cupping my face in his palms. "You do not know how much you mean to me, do you?"

The sincerity bleeding from his words washes over me like the first deluge of summer rain after a parched, barren season. I never expected stumbling into something like this–something pure enough to shear through the heavy mantle of my trauma.

But now that I've experienced it? I can't imagine going back. Can't fathom a universe where Antonio isn't the solid foundation grounding me, easing me out of my darkest spirals when the nightmares become too potent to ignore.

Looping my arms around his neck, I tilt my forehead to rest against his. "I think I'm getting an idea," I whisper, an unbidden smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

He grins wolfishly in return before surging forward to capture my mouth in another searing kiss. This one is all heat and need, stoking the embers of my arousal into an inferno in a matter of heartbeats.

My fingers find purchase in the soft cotton of his shirt as Antonio sweeps me up, depositing me on the kitchen island with a flourish. He towers over me, slotting his hips between my parted thighs as his lips caress the slender column of my neck.

"Antonio," I keen, writhing beneath the insistent ministrations of his lips and tongue. My nails scrape over the flexing expanse of his back in silent encouragement. "God, please..."

"I've got you, Col," he rumbles against my overheated flesh, the vibration sending delicious little aftershocks spiraling through me. "I've got you."

With a tender caress of my cheeks, Antonio captures my lips, contrasting with bruising intensity. I arch against him, my fingers slipping beneath his thin undershirt to trail over the rippling musculature of his abdomen.

I whimper into the seal of our mouths as the hard length of Antonio's arousal nudges against my inner thigh. In that moment, all I want is for him to claim me, to fill me until the rest of the world fades away.

But then a chirp from somewhere in the living room pierces the sensual fog swirling around us. Antonio stills with a muffled curse, his forehead dropping to rest against mine as we both struggle to rein in our galloping desires.

"Just leave it," I plead, looping an arm around the back of his neck to bring his lips crashing back to mine.

He resists, albeit reluctantly. "You know I can't, Col," Antonio huffs. He’s been hunting the mischievous mink for two days, and the rodent is causing him many sleepless nights. I watch him run off, grabbing a broom as he goes, chuckling with delight. I think about the comfortable life we have now, and I feel a pang of guilt about how I left things off with Henry.

Antonio has tried to get me to forgive Henry. Without being pushy about it, bless him. It’s been months since I found out about Henry’s betrayal, but the pain has remained fresh in my heart. And yet, I find myself more and more open to the idea of forgiving him and fixing our relationship. I know it will make Antonio happy, and I want to do everything possible to make him happy.

Humming while listening to Antonio chase the mink around the house, I pour myself some coffee and fix two plates with some breakfast.

The late afternoon sunlight filters through the trees in slanted rays, casting a warm glow over the crumbling brick facade of the old mill. I pause for a moment to take in the sight, marveling at how serene it looks despite the advancing decay.

This place used to be such a hub of activity back in its day–the thunderous clamor of machinery echoing through the valley, the shouts and laughter of workers filling the air. Now, an eerie stillness cloaks the abandoned buildings like a shroud, making them seem almost hallowed. Which is why I chose this spot for my newest mural. There's a sort of poetic symmetry to breathing new life into the shadows of this forgotten relic.

The soft crunch of gravel behind me signals Antonio's approach before I catch sight of him ambling down the winding path. He moves with an easy, loping grace, hands tucked into the pockets of his worn jeans. A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I drink at the sight of him–ruggedly handsome features, tousled dark hair falling over his brow, radiating an affable warmth that puts me at ease. My chest squeezes with a swell of affection I can't even describe.

How is it possible to feel this scene and cherished by someone after so much darkness? In Antonio's steadfast presence, I'm letting go of the merciless doubts and self-recriminations my ex ingrained into my psyche. I am feeling worthy of happiness again, even when the shadows still linger. I give myself a little shake to dispel the stray tendril of melancholy creeping in. Now isn't the time to dwell on the past when the future ahead looks bright.

Antonio's face splits into a crooked grin as he draws nearer, dark eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hey there, gorgeous. I got your note asking me to meet you here. I have to say, I’m kinda curious to find out what this is all about."

“There was something I wanted to tell you about,” I say, “and…well, I just thought it would be better if I just showed you instead.”

“Intriguing,” he chirps, looking around. “I was expecting something as surreal as the waterfall, but I guess looking at some crumbling buildings has its own appeal.”

I chuckle and hug him, enjoying his warmth and presence. “You’re ruining the surprise, Antonio. Shush.” I take his hand and lead him around the building.

I hear his gasp and suppress a smile. A massive graffiti painting covers one wall and as I look up at it again, I realize how majestic it is. It’s one of my best works.

“Col, how did you find this one?” he asks, strolling towards the wall, his shoes crunching the gravel underneath. “And the paint looks wet. I doubt it was done more than an hour ago. So—”

"Wait..." He glances at the corner of the wall, where my bag sits on the floor with canisters sticking out of it. He frowns and then his expression turns to surprise. Understanding dawns, and I can see the wheels turning in that handsome head of his.

“Of course,” he says after a long pause. “How could I have missed it?” His gaze snaps back to me with a mixture of awe and surprise. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’ve been responsible for the murals everyone’s been talking about.”

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