Page 226 of Reverse

“Beauty,” he murmurs, and in that second, our eyes connect, and all the space between us disappears.

We’re just raw hearts who completely recognize the other. It’s the best I’ve felt since before we separated on our honeymoon. Blowing out a breath, I slowly nod my head and turn the first page.

SIXTY-EIGHT

“The Dance”

Fist of Five

Natalie

On a plush blanket in the middle of nowhere, I pull on a dark beer as I continue to read. Morning became afternoon, and as the story progressed, I traded in coffee for something a little stronger to take the hard edge off Stella’s bared bones story about falling for two men—ourfathers. Every so often, I glance up at Easton where he lays propped on his side. He’s dressed in jeans, solid red high tops, and a thick hoodie—a hoodie no doubt covered in his scent, which he’s offered more than once, and I’ve repeatedly declined. Earbuds in, he’s posted next to me like he has all the time in the world. More than once, I’ve found his eyes trailing down my exposed skin, denying myself the rush it brings as I became more immersed.

Flipping a page, I feel the heat rush to my cheeks as Stella sneaks over to Reid’s apartment for the first time. Throat drying, my pulse kicks up.

“She blushes.” I look up to see Easton smirking.

“Youreadthis?”

“The whole thing,” he says softly, “butyoumight be skimming soon.”

“This feels . . .”

“Invasive? Yeah, I thought so too, at first, but it’s the story she wanted to share with the world. Keep going,” he urges, moving to lay on his back, his hoodie riding up to expose some of the tattoo on his side. Ignoring the urge to trace the skin with my gaze, I divert my focus back to the page, continue reading, and become lost.

Hours later, sitting with the script propped on my thighs, tears streaming down my cheeks, I read Stella’s tearful goodbye to my father as they locked eyes across the stage at the music festival. Swallowing repeatedly, Easton gently scrapes away a tear with the pad of his finger as I soak in the true ending of their relationship while marveling at what an incredible man my father was andis. Of how Stella truly loved him. The words blur until I manage to make it through the last few pages, understanding the context of their final emails more clearly.

Reeling from what I have just experienced, I lay the manuscript on the blanket, staring at the rapidly darkening sky. We lay there for a few silent minutes as I absorb what I just read, a vortex of feelings. Turning my head, I look over to see Easton’s eyes on me.

“Say something,” he whispers.

“It’s pretty obvious now why we were born so close together,” I manage a watery smile. “My parents were on their honeymoon, and your mother was . . . reaffirming their relationship.” I shake my head. “This is all so crazy. Our stories are so different and so similar too. It’s like . . . I don’t know what to do with all of this,” I pull in a shaky inhale, my heart raw as my emotions get the best of me, and I let my words fly.

“My dad tried at the Super Bowl. He really did. For the most part, he was okay, but that song forced him to relive that night, and it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how much time had passed—he felt it. Watching him relive it . . . it was hell on earth. I was so angry with your mother, with you, with our circumstances, with what became ofus, that’s how I was able to—”

“Sign the papers,” he finishes for me. “I can’t blame him, Natalie. I just can’t anymore.” Easton blows out a harsh breath. “I was fool enough to believe that time mattered. But love is like music for so many in the fact that it’s—”

“Timeless,” I finish for him. “That’s how I felt about their emails, like it was happeningasI read them.” Another tear escapes as I shake my head. “I don’t know what to say. I’m just . . .”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he assures. “But I’ve been fucking blind to how much youcouldsee. I always was. You saw how much it was destroying your father and our families, and I was too consumed in what I felt for you to see you were right in many respects. I’m sorry for that.”

“Yeah. But I see too. I see how she truly loved him. I-I—”

“Clarity, insight, remorse,” he finishes for me. “That’s why I’m here. I wanted you to have this, so you could get some much-needed, much-deserved perspective, if you still wanted it. You paid for it dearly. We both did. Fuck knows I needed it and found it in there.” He moves to sit. “I tried to hate him, but the more I read, the more I understood who Nate is, it evaporated. Somewhere deep down, I knew if I read it, I couldn’t hold him responsible.”

“God, what we put them through,” I say. “I feel so bad for all of them.”

“There was no winner,” he says.

“I came to that conclusion months ago.”

Easton nods. “At least we know why they reacted the way they did and were initially so fucking adamant about keeping us apart.”

“It’s so weird, but I’m not angry anymore.”

“Me neither,” he croons softly, lifting his eyes to the purpling sky.

“I’m just . . . sad.” I press against my aching chest with both hands. “Jesus, this hurts so much.”

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