Page 1 of Every Thought Taken

PROLOGUE

ANDERSON

Far back as I can recall, not a day exists when I haven’t loved Helena Williams. In my younger years, my love for her was more familial or akin to friendship. But as the years passed, something changed between us. The unrequited love I had for my sister’s best friend was reciprocated. Like the seasons, our love fluctuated. Like the moon, some nights were dark and cold while others were bright and warm.

I loved her.

Iloveher.

Nine years ago, I broke in two. She said goodbye, and I tried to let her go. She moved on and I did unthinkable things.

With her gone, I fell apart. I let the darkness take over. Let myself drown. The dark was familiar. Comforting. Guaranteed. Constant.

But now, I am ready to breathe again.

Being on the road for years, I dissociated from reality. From the heartache she brought to life. From the cracks in my relationship with my parents. On the road, I was free. Free to think and feel without guilt or shame. Free to express myself, even if only to myself, without skirting around the shadow attached to my soul.

It took years for Helena to not be my first thought each day. It took years to love myself. To feel something other than disgust or indifference. Though my self-love is still questionable, it exists. Flickers to life when the darkness clouds my vision.

And like my darkness, I linger.

Across the street, I hover near the entrance of the Lake Lavender Cinema. The crowd of movie-goers cloaks my unabashed surveillance of Always Classic. Her boutique. Where she stands near the window and futzes with the street-side display.

The backs of my eyes sting as I stare after her. As I watch her go about life. Breathing with ease. Existing without restraint.

A customer pushes through the black-framed glass door and she spins around, a bright smile on her face as she greets them. She resumes her task in the window as the customer steps farther into the store, and I don’t miss how fast her smile fades.

“What saddens you, my love?”

I wade through the crowd and move closer. People shuffle past, but I never lose sight of her. Never miss a beat as I suck in a deep breath and cross the street. My pulse whooshes loudly in my ears with each step forward. My breathing jagged as I reached the opposite side of the street. And when she looks out the window and sees me standing on the sidewalk, my rib cage constricts.

Tears rim my eyes as I stand there, waiting.

Damn, she stuns.

Helena has always been beautiful. The girl I fell in love with years ago, I still see pieces of her as I stare at the woman in the window. Her hair is different. Shorter. Straighter. Her face thinner and hips curvier.

As I absorb and catalog each change in her appearance, my gaze drops to her hands clasped at her waist. My brows twitch and vision blurs as she twists the ring on her right ring finger. Iknowthat ring. Thin, gold double bands with a small baguette-cut sapphire at the heart.

Fire blazes in my lungs, and I force myself to take a breath. Wetness coats my cheeks as she backs out of the display. The fist around my heart tightens as she moves toward the door. I can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t think as she opens the door and steps out. I clench my fingers into loose fists as my limbs tremble.

In seven heart-pounding steps, she stands within arm’s reach. Her sweet rose and amber scent hit my nose and my eyes close. A flood of memories rushes in. Swarm my thoughts and blanket my heart. More tears spill over as I meet her gaze.

“Hey, Ander,” she whispers.

“Hey, North.” The nickname I gave her scratches my throat.

I don’t miss the flinch of her brows. The shift in her stance as she glances over my shoulder and loses focus. With each passing breath, her eyes glass over more. Red rims her green irises. A slight wobble takes over her chin. And when our eyes meet again, her tears match my own.

“Missed you,” she chokes out. Her head falls forward as she twists the ring on her finger.

“You did?”

She straightens her spine. Her eyes dart between mine as her brows pinch tight. Lips trapped between her teeth, she nods.

Without a second thought, I reach forward and take her hand. Press my thumb to the ring on her finger. Suck in a sharp, shaky breath as tears pour freely down my cheeks. With one touch, everything I felt for her rushes to the surface. With one touch, I flaunt my vulnerability.

Years ago, Helena knew me better than anyone. Then life got flipped upside down. She left. She split me in two. And with her absence, I detached from the world. From her. Though we are practically strangers now, the throbbing ache in my chest begs to differ. Pleads with me to not let go. Implores me to hold on tight. Tighter than before.

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