Page 57 of When Hearts Remember

With that, she shoves her papers and books into the bag and leaves the table.

Fuck.

Chapter 18

Past: One Year Before the Accident—Nineteen Years Old

The journal exchange andtext messages have stopped.

On top of losing what could’ve been a promising relationship, what pains me the most is losing what I had with Keeper and Delaney. Over the last year, I’ve looked forward to our weekly journal entries, to figuring out the next literary riddle, and uncovering the hidden messages behind the book choices.

I’ve treasured the small mementos he leaves behind—the note cards with poetry, a rare stamp he found because he knew I had dreams of traveling to exotic locales, photos of hummingbirds in flight—a nod to the stain glass window in Ravenswood.

You remind me of them—hummingbirds.

Always in motion, a blur of energy,

Blinding me with your brilliance.

Sunlight dances on your wings,

Golden rays glinting against soft feathers.

Melodies unheard of, yet your lyrics speak to my soul.

With bated breath, I watch you ascend.

Taking flight—effortless, untouchable,

Soaring in the skies.

Leaving me grounded,

How I wish you were mine.

Itrace his words with my fingers—feeling the paper dip where his pen stopped.

My feelings are complicated when it comes to him—the initial anger at him pulling away and yet understanding his reasoning. Through his letters, I know he’s always felt out of place in his life and Liam accepts and understands him. I have brothers and I’ve seen the unique bond. I also respect how he wants to stay true to his word—a promise is sacred. That’s a rare quality these days.

I’m also frustrated. Liam loves us both—he might be angry when he finds out, but he’ll forgive us eventually.

Ultimately, I want a man who’ll give up everything for me. I’m worth that. I won’t beg him to be with me.

But I miss him.

The longing cinches my chest as I reread the free verse poem. He didn’t write the name of the author, but I know it’s him.

How can someone capable of writing such heartfelt, romantic poems believe he isn’t capable of loving someone? How can he be so blind?

I put the note card away and head to the coffee shop next to Ravenswood Library for our fourth tutoring session. The last two sessions alternated between his apartment—and Liam’s always there, dammit—or Central Park. He didn’t bring up the neck kiss, and I didn’t push him.

But I’d catch the way he stared at me when he thought I wasn’t aware. His eyes roved over my face, like he was taking inventory of every freckle on my skin. Sometimes, I’d see him reaching out, like he wanted to touch my nose or my hair, like that day in the library when he kissed me.

While he didn’t cross any lines—whatever imaginary boundaries he thought he had because I was Liam’s sister—I felt the barriers fading away. It’ll be a matter of time before he caved to the chemistry between us.

Smiling at the future where he and I would finally be together, I quicken my pace. The biting wind ruffles my hair and I admire the multicolored leaves twirling in the air as fall bids us farewell in early November.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I fish it out, finding an incoming text notification.

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