Page 98 of Finding Forever

“There was when Chapman was shot. Someone must have cleaned the site.”

I looked at Eric to see if he was joking. He wasn’t.

We stood below the hideout for a while, each lost in our own thoughts. When the time felt right, I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the forest. Somewhere close by, a bird sang. The trees rustled in the breeze, and warm air moved across my damp skin.

“What are you doing?” Eric whispered.

“Listening. Try it.” I opened my eyes and smiled at him. “Go on. I won’t tell anyone.”

He lifted an eyebrow before closing his eyes.

“Take a deep breath,” I said softly. “In and out. What do you hear?”

“The forest.” He opened his eyes. “Was that a trick question?”

“No.” I picked up a leaf and held it close to my chest. “The forest has healed itself. All the violence, the anger, and the fear are gone. The birds are singing, and the air smells as pure and fresh as it always has. We need to heal, too.”

Eric looked above us, into the canopy of trees. When his gaze returned to me, there were tears in his eyes. “When I saw you in the tree, I thought you were dead. My heart broke in two.”

I wrapped my arm around his waist and held on tight.

“But you weren’t dead. You’d used everything inside of you to stay strong, to fight for your life. You were courageous and brave, and I love you.”

Tears stung my eyes. “I love you, too.”

Eric’s hand brushed away my tears. “While I was in New York, I realized my life isn’t the same without you. Would you like to go on that first date we talked about?”

“The one where we aren’t going rock climbing?”

He smiled. “You remembered.”

“I also remember you saying our first date would be creative. How does visiting the latest exhibition at the Broomfield Art Gallery sound?”

“Would you be upset if I told you I’d sooner climb the tree again?”

I laughed. “No. I’d say you were being honest.” I touched the side of his face and sighed. “I’ll always love you, no matter where we go or what we do.”

Eric kissed me gently. “I’ve always wanted to see a rodeo.”

I wrapped my arm around him and grinned. “That sounds good to me.”

seventy

RILEY

Three months later…

I smiled at a woman wearing a bright orange dress and the sparkliest pair of high heels I’d ever seen. It was the opening night of my exhibition in Venice, and everyone was dressed in jaw-dropping gowns and suits.

All day, I’d been at the gallery, talking to reporters and meeting some of Lorenzo’s high-profile clients. After a quick dinner and an even faster change of clothes, I raced back for the official opening night celebrations.

Somewhere in the gallery, a champagne cork popped. A string quartet played in the atrium, and every now and then, I heard the voice of a gondolier singing to his passengers.

“There you are,” Lorenzo said, smiling proudly at me. “It is a night to remember, is it not?”

“It’s a wonderful night. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Lorenzo lifted his broad shoulders in a very Italian shrug. “It is nothing. For you, I would give the world.”

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