Page 68 of Always Been You
I close my eyes and let myself drift.
A warm pressure presses against my lips, soft but insistent. A familiar scent, something deep and expensive, wraps around me.
My eyelids flutter open, and Eddie’s face is the first thing I see.
“Wake up,” he murmurs, his lips still brushing against mine. I blink, groggy, until my surroundings fully register. I turn my head, glancing outside the window and I gasp.
“Oh. My. God. Oh. My. God.” A slow grin spreads across Eddie’s face as he watches my expression shift from confusion to disbelief. He chuckles, low and warm.
“That good?” I whip around to face him, heart pounding.
“Is this—?”
He nods, watching me carefully. “Yeah.”
“Do you like it?”
“Like?” I practically throw myself into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, uncaring of where we are.
“I love it.” Eddie laughs, catching me with ease. We both stand, my body glued to his, his arms locked tight around me.
He brought me to Poland. I pull back slightly, taking in the airport sign outside the window. Wroclaw Copernicus Airport. He really brought me here.
A car pulls up, sleek and waiting, the driver already standing beside it, holding the door open. Eddie sets me down, but his hand stays firmly around mine as we walk toward the car.
The moment we settle into the backseat, I lace our fingers together and rest my head against his shoulder.
“I’ve always wanted to come here,” I murmur, a quiet confession. “But I never had the time.”
Eddie doesn’t speak; he just runs his thumb over my knuckles, waiting for me to continue.
“I got so busy when I started law school. Then, I wanted to prove myself at the firm. I wanted to build something great for our family. Slowly, I let my passion for pottery... sleep.” I inhale, shaking my head slightly. “I don’t even know when it happened. One day, I just stopped thinking about it. I told myself I’d do it later.”
Eddie exhales softly, then lifts our joined hands to his lips, pressing a slow kiss to the back of my palm.
“Then we’ll wake it up,” he says simply.
I tilt my head up, looking at him. “You planned all this?”
A small smirk curves his lips. “You always said you wanted to come here one day. I figured today was a good day.”
God.
I press my face against his shoulder, smiling against the fabric of his suit.
Maybe for once, Aria is right. Maybe I shouldn’t think too much. Maybe I should just let myself be happy.
The car slows to a stop, and the moment I glance out the window, my breath hitches.
No freaky way. I press my hand against the glass as I take in the familiar brick walls, the large paned windows, and the wooden sign hanging above the entrance. I’ve only ever seen this place in pictures. I turn to Eddie, stunned.
“You remembered,” I whisper, emotion thick in my voice.
Eddie says nothing at first, just watching my reaction with that knowing smirk of his. Then he unbuckles his seatbelt.
“Come on,” he says, stepping out and reaching for her hand. I follow, still blown away by the sight before me.
We enter the studio, and immediately, the scent of clay, dust, and lingering traces of past creations fills the air. The space is warm and lived-in, with shelves stacked high with pottery. Some pieces are glazed and gleaming, while others remain rough and unfinished, waiting for their final form.
