Page 12 of The Story of Us
“‘But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?’”
“What?” She blinked, and he was suddenly acutely aware that Jamie wasn’t a high school girl anymore. Her face was more angular now, giving more definition to those high, delicate cheekbones and porcelain complexion. Her adorably awkward teenaged frame had been replaced with willowy grace. Sawyer’s favorite bookworm had grown into a beautiful woman while he’d been away.
His heart thumped hard in his chest. “It’sRomeo and Juliet. You, uh, look like you’re up on a balcony.”
She didn’t move. She just kept standing up there in her prim black cardigan and polka dot pencil skirt, staring down at him as if he’d arrived via time machine. It sort of felt like he had.
“There was no balcony,” she said.
Sawyer tightened his grip on the book in his hands. Why was he sweating all of a sudden? “What?”
“In the story. She’s just standing at a window. Everybody gets it wrong.”
Sawyer knew better than to argue. Still, this unexpected little reunion wasn’t progressing at all the way he’d always imagined it would. Not that he’d been planning, or even hoping, to see her while he was back in Waterford. The last he’d heard, she was thinking about moving to Texas. But he’d be a liar if he said bumping into her hadn’t crossed his mind over the years. He’d just never considered he might botch Shakespeare when it finally happened.
He swallowed. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry. Um. I’m just…” She deposited her armload of books onto the top shelf and climbed down the ladder so they stood face-to-face. “Completely thrown.”
Had her eyes always been such a startling shade of blue?
“Yeah, so was I. I suppose I shouldn’t be. This was always your favorite place.” He couldn’t believe she still worked there, though. How was it possible that everything in Waterford had changed and yet somehow, stayed exactly the same?
“Let’s start again.” She smoothed down her dotted skirt, and Sawyer couldn’t help but smile because polka dots had always been her trademark. “Hi, Sawyer!”
“Hey, Jamie.” He was beginning to feel like a kid again, walking his girl to work after school. “You dropped this.”
He offered her the book that had nearly fallen on his head.
She took it, and her grin wobbled just a little. If he’d blinked, he would have missed it entirely.
“Thank you.” She stared for a beat at the illustrated cover of the book’s blue dust jacket.
It was only then that Sawyer noticed which flying novel he’d managed to narrowly avoid—Persuasionby Jane Austen. Oh, the irony.
Chapter Four
Jamie hugged the Austen novelto her chest while she made small talk with Sawyer. She had no idea what she was saying—at one point, she could have sworn she heard herself talking about Eliot’s most recent hairball, but she couldn’t be sure. Her thoughts were a complete blur. She’d been reeling since she’d first caught sight of him—Sawyer O’Dell, in Waterford, after so much time.
And she’d nearly conked him in the head…withPersuasion! Of all the books in the world, why did it have to be that one?
It was Jamie’s favorite Austen novel. Sure, she loved Mr. Darcy fromPride and Prejudiceas much as the next bibliophile—so much that she absolutely refused to choose which movie Mr. Darcy was the best. As far as Jamie was concerned, the more Darcys, the better.
But there was just something about Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth fromPersuasionthat made her weak in the knees—perhaps because they went against the usual formula. They met and fell in love when they were young. Shortly after they got engaged, though, they broke up and Wentworth left to rise through the ranks in the Navy. When he returned seven years later, Wentworth and Anne were near-strangers. But, of course, they fell in love all over again, even amid a variety of humorous encounters and missed opportunities. Wentworth finally confessed his feelings to Anne in a beautiful letter where he told her, “You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me that I am not too late…”
Those were undoubtedly the most romantic words Jamie had ever read. But having them pressed against her heart while trying to make polite conversation with Sawyer when she hadn’t set eyes on him in fifteen years was more than she could take. Honestly, it was full-on, one-hundred-percent agony.
What was he doing here? His mom had moved away years ago, and he certainly wasn’t in town to see Jamie. She hadn’t heard from him at all since their breakup back when they were eighteen. Not a single word. He’d been her first love, but more importantly, her very first heartbreak. Sometimes she even wondered if the reason she hadn’t been able to fully commit to a relationship with Matt was because deep down, she knew she’d never fully gotten over Sawyer.
But that was ridiculous. She’d moved onlongago. Still, she couldn’t keep standing there, talking to Sawyer as if the past decade and a half hadn’t happened. Not when he looked so handsome in a navy peacoat that suddenly seemed far too Wentworth-esque. And certainly not here, in a place that had so many shared memories for them.
“Why don’t we go for a walk?” she blurted, interrupting Sawyer mid-sentence.
Not that he’d been saying anything important. Neither of them had managed to get past benign pleasantries such as talk about the weather.
“A walk?” He cocked his head. “Sure, that sounds nice.”
Good. She needed air, and she definitely needed to get as far away from Jane Austen as possible.
