Page 120 of Keep Me

“Why not?” he asks.

“Because the only man who’s spoken to me since I got home was a guy at the coffee shop who tried to hit on me by offering me advice on writing my novel.”

“You told him to fuck off, I hope.”

“I told him I wasn’t interested,” I reply with a smile.

“I miss the days when you threw your coffees at men like him,” he replies.

Still chewing my lip, I pace around the space in front of the coffee shop. The wind is starting to pick up, and my nose is like an icicle, but I’m not going inside. It’s easier to focus on him out here. As if being outside brings me closer to him.

“How’s the drive going?” I ask.

“Good. Your voice helps. Keep talking.”

I let out a sigh. “Why don’t you try it without my voice for a while? Just keep me on the line. You know what to do if your attacks come back.”

My eyes sting as I wait for him to respond.

Finally, he mumbles, “Just because I can do it without you doesn’t mean I want to.”

A tight smile stretches across my face as my eyes fill with moisture. “It only matters to me that you’re doing it.”

“I’m doing it.”

For the rest of the drive, he goes in silence. I go back into the coffee shop, and I stare out the window as I listen to his breathing on the other end of the line.

With every drive and every trip and every day that passes, Iknow he’s finding peace inside that he hasn’t had in far too long. Even if I never make it back to Scotland or to Barclay Manor or to him, at least I can rest knowing he’s found that.

***

On a warm day in late March, I’m walking back to my apartment when I spot a package on the front steps, and I nearly sprint down the street when I see it lying there. Just a simple brown cardboard package that doesn’t look very exciting, but I know exactly what is inside.

Squealing as I pick it up, I do a little hopping dance outside the front door before I unlock the door and run inside with excitement. I quickly pull out my phone, dialing Killian’s number, and putting it on speakerphone before setting it on the table.

He picks up immediately.

“Hello?”

“It came!” I shriek, making him laugh.

“For fuck’s sake, woman. My eardrums are bleeding. What came?”

“My book! I had it printed and it just showed up.”

“Oh, Sylvie,” he responds softly. “That’s incredible. I’m so bloody proud of you.”

Killian and I have hardly spoken since he called me two months ago, asking for me to talk to him while he drove. Since then, I’ve tried my hardest to not pick up the phone or reach out. But these brief conversations feel like getting to know him for the first time.

Ironically, I think I’m even more in love with him now, and I can’t even say it.

“I’m opening it.” Grabbing the box cutter off the counter, I quickly slice open the package.

“Careful not to cut too deep. You’ll slice the pages.”

“I’m careful,” I argue.

As the box slides open, I freeze. Ever so slowly, I pull out thepaperback book from within. As I lay it in my hands, feeling the weight of all the words inside, tears begin to spring to my eyes.

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