Page 15 of Neverland

I suggested a small island. She laughed, thinking I’d lost my mind. You don’t just buy islands. But I did. My Neverland always loved to tell stories, so I asked her what that house would be like if she could have it her way. I took all of it in, storing every little detail.

The architect thought I’d lost it when I told him what I wanted. A Victorian style home with wraparound porches but modernly updated. Between him and one of the best designers in the world, we pulled it off.

“It doesn’t look like it belongs.” She smiles up at it, unmoving. It’s not a typical beach house, but there is nothing typical about Melody. Her imagination has always been a world of her own making. My dream was only to make it come true. To show her that I could make her vision a reality.

“Isn’t that part of the point? A slice of heaven that is of our own making?” I use the words she's said to me before.

“Our very own Neverland.”

13

MELODY

Adream I’ve had for so long sits in front of me, but I know those never last. It’s why it’s called Neverland. You can never reach it. Once upon a time for a brief moment, I thought I could. But that’s the whole point of a fairy tale. It’s too good to be true. It’s why we read the stories and soak them into our souls trying to get a taste of them.

Easton helped me heal from losing my mom. I didn’t think I wanted to ever love another person. Why? It hurt too much. But he pulled me in, giving me things no one ever did.

Each day, I would have to go home and comfort everyone else, but it was only Easton who knew I needed comforting too. He gave me hope, and more than that, he made me believe in myself. Reminded me that everyone else's burdens weren’t mine, and I should have a dream of my own.

Without him, I never would have written that first book and wouldn’t be halfway through my next. I didn’t think I had what it would take. Both of my parents were successful at one time. The fear of failing scared me even while I hated how much my family would work and focus on material things and not memories.

“Do you want to see the inside?” Easton’s question pulls me back from being lost in my memories. I hadn’t even realized that I had relaxed into him. His mouth is now only mere inches away from my ear. The closeness causes goosebumps to break out along my skin. I could get lost in this fantasy if I allowed myself to.

I both love and hate the fact that my body still reacts to him. But I can’t deny what’s still between us. Not that I’m going to act on any of it for obvious reasons. He has no idea how bittersweet this is going to be for me. I want nothing more than to see inside, but it could end me. I’m not sure which would be worse, not seeing it at all or getting a glimpse into a dream that is no longer in the cards for me.

“When have I ever led you astray?” Easton takes my hand, leading me to the house.

The sound of the ocean's waves are calming. I haven’t seen the ocean in forever. It’s been all sand and bright lights for the last five years, a world I knew I didn’t belong in but that wasn't anything new; I never did fit in anywhere. Except with Easton. When it was the two of us, I could get lost in him.

I let my fingers slide along the rail of the porch. He pushes open the double doors into the breathtaking entryway with its gorgeous staircase. It doesn’t go unnoticed by me that there is a picture of me and him from his senior prom.

“I can’t do this.” I try to pull back, but Easton is quicker than I am and pushes the door closed.

“Zero, go on lockdown.” The sound of clicks echoes throughout the house at his command. I grab one of the handles to the front door, but it doesn’t open. I even try to turn the lock on it. I’m not sure if it’s for show or it’s being held in place.

“Easton,” I snap. “Are you seriously kidnapping me right now?”

“I thought we had cleared that up already.” The passive expression on his face ignites me. I can’t play these games. It’s not only me I have to think about. It’s never only me I get to think about.

That only fuels my anger more. The audacity of him to show me what could have been if life had worked out the way we planned. I don’t even understand what he's doing. Is this his way of getting back at me for what my father did? That thought doesn’t sit well with me, but what other explanation do I have at this point?

I never knew Easton to be cruel, but maybe the rumors I heard when I was younger were true. You never mess with Easton Ledger. No one ever did, either. After the day he staked a claim to me, no one bothered me. Even after he graduated, people gave me a wide berth.

I didn’t realize back then how powerful his family was. Those weren't things that interested me. That was one of my mistakes. When I found out all my father’s wrongdoings, Easton’s family was at the top of the list. You think the world is run by the government. That couldn't be further from the truth. Companies run the world. Everything is about greed.

“Ahh!” I scream, going for the giant framed picture of me and him on the wall.

I’m smiling at the camera while he is staring down at me. I grab and pull, but it doesn’t budge. It’s all fake. They want us to play the part of socialites. From one generation to the next. I hated every second of it.

“Everything is bolted down in case of a hurricane,” Easton informs me. “Here.” He hands me a beautiful vase sitting on a table in the entryway. My eyes catch a picture of my sister and I in a frame next to it. It cuts me open. How does he do that? I try to protect myself, but he keeps making me bleed love for him. “Go on,” he encourages me.

I don’t want to play into whatever this is, but still I do it, needing to release the building pressure inside of me before I explode. I raise it above my head and slam it down as hard as I can. Glass shatters all around us.

“You can’t put that back together,” I tell him. He can try all he wants, but his world would never accept me, and some might want to kill my father. My father hasn't always been the best, but I love him.

“You can put anything back together if you’re patient.” He bends down and picks up two pieces, sliding them together. “So it’s cracked, but it’s still together.” He keeps going from being an asshole to sweet. Two different sides to him I’m getting. One that he’s hidden from me.

He cuts me open. He always has. I keep bleeding love for him. It never stops. Only he can heal it, or one day there will be nothing left inside me.

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