Page 40 of You, with a View

I suppose I fought against the idea of us partly because you’re a pain, but also because I heard my family’s voice in my head every time I looked at you: he’s not right for you, Kat. And yet, my own voice grew louder the more time we spent together. It’s never done that.

This may end in disaster. My family may hate you. But I don’t. I’ve never done a thing I thought they wouldn’t like. You’re the first thing I’ve been brave enough to go after just for myself, simply because I want it so much.

It’s okay if this scares you. It scares me, too. But I’ll do it anyway.

Love,

Kat

That last sentiment slices through my chest like a stone being dropped into water, settling deep. I think of my camera bag nestled in the trunk, of the pictures I’ll have to take today. How is it possible to want something as equally as you fear it?

My gaze strays to Theo, whose eyes are still moving across the paper. His jaw ticks when he finishes, his gaze lingering on whatever words have captivated him before he looks at me. I can’t read the emotion in his eyes, but it’s heavy enough to snag my chest.

I break our connection, turning back to Paul, who’s watching us with barely concealed amusement. “Gram ended up being a teacher, you know. She went to school—well, back to school—after my dad and uncles were older.”

Pride shines in Paul’s voice. “Yes, I heard through our mutual friends she’d done that.”

That piques my curiosity. “Did you ever get in touch with her yourself?”

“She sent me and Vera a wedding gift, along with a nice note, which I couldn’t help but write back to,” he says fondly. “But before that and after, no, we didn’t talk at all. Once we were in other relationships, it was best not to. I knew she was happy with Joe.”

“Did it hurt, hearing about her life?”

“Right after we separated, yes. But after a while, and especially after my divorce, hearing about all of the things she was doing gave me hope that I’d get it right at some point, too.”

That’s something I haven’t felt in so long—hope that things will shift into the shape I confidently sketched out when I was young.

“People rarely get it on the first try, Noelle,” Paul says quietly. His eyes slip past me to Theo. His arms are crossed over his chest, his eyes locked on his grandfather’s, searching. “There’s nothing wrong with that. It doesn’t make you less of a success story in the end.”

Theo’s lips press together as he looks down. The right side of his hair is a little flat, and there’s a trace of a pillow mark on his cheek. He looks impossibly human right now; it taps a fissure into my heart.

Our gazes clash again, magnetic. It’s too powerful to look away from, so thank god it’s Theo who breaks the connection this time, shifting in his seat as he sticks the key in the ignition.

I wipe my palms on my thighs, folding the letter as the engine growls to life.

“Enough distractions,” Theo says. “Shepard has some pictures to take.”

Theo pulls into the parking lot at Tunnel View an hour later. It’s a popular viewpoint that overlooks El Capitan, Bridalveil Fall, and, in the distance, Half Dome, as well as an endless, lush spread of green. A few groups roam the parking lot, making their way to the stone wall that separates us from total majesty.

My brain is dreaming up photos instantly.

Theo’s got my backpack unzipped when I get to the trunk, but he doesn’t touch my camera. Instead, he stands there, arms crossed while I extract it from its case with shaky hands.

I take in his bodyguard-like stance and go back to last night—I can’t wait to see you with a camera in your hand.

I hold it up for inspection. “Is it everything you thought it’d be?”

“And more,” he says dryly, but there’s pleasure in his eyes. Without another word, he turns on his heel and makes his way toward the lookout.

Paul removes his camera, winding the strap around his neck, and I nearly choke on my tongue.

“Is that a Hasselblad?”

He holds up the gorgeous camera as we walk, like he doesn’t have four thousand dollars of extraordinary photography magic sitting in his palm. “My favorite. I’ve reverted back to film, mostly. I hardly use digital anymore.”

“Where do you get your prints developed?”

“I have a darkroom at home.” He nods to Theo. “Teddy set it up for me.”

---