Page 79 of Branded

But she doesn’t associate you. She doesn’t even know it was you. She couldn’t see your face.

My inner voice tries to make sense of it all, but comes up short every time. How is this possible?

“And I’m really glad I chose Sunset Valley.” She tilts her face up so she can see mine, but her smile quickly falls. “Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, yes.” I shake my head a bit and pull her closer. “Just thinking about all of that, it’s horrific. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“Now you know why I was so reluctant to go out with you,” she says then kisses my chest.

Does she remember me? Is that even possible?

“I just couldn’t be around someone who worked in the field you do without it bringing back awful memories. I didn’t want to put that on anyone else, but then you persisted.” She smiles. “And I am so happy you did. I’m finally starting to feel better, Isaac, like I can finally move forward, and it’s because of you.”

There she is, baring her soul to me for the second time in a handful of hours, and I’m just staring at her face. Staring at the scar in her eyebrow, no doubt from a cut, and the fact if I picture her with glasses and different hair... it’s her.

There is no doubt in my mind.

The girl who seared herself into my mind all those years ago and I always wondered about. The girl who never told me her name and only told me she hated me.

That girl, through some kind of twist of fate...is Sawyer.

What the fuck am I going to do? If I tell her, I’ll lose her. She won’t want to be with someone she associates with the death of her brother, but if I lie to her, that’s even worse.

She’s coming back to life because of me, and I have the ability and knowledge to strike that down instantly if I do the right thing... or I do the wrong thing and keep her, just as she is, happy and perfect in my arms.

Chapter 21

Sawyer

“Allright.Whorememberswhen I said the essays onThe Great Gatsbywere to be emailed to me over the weekend?” I say with my arms crossed over my chest, standing at the front of my classroom. This is my favorite part of a new semester, getting to cover my favorites again.

Most of the students raise their hands.

“That’s weird because if I’m counting correctly, there are twenty-one of you in this class, and as of this morning, I only have twelve in my inbox. That’s not something I’m very happy about.”

As I continue my morning scold of this particular class, I can feel the ache in my muscles and between my legs with each movement. It makes focusing on the task at hand more difficult when all I can think about is the way Isaac touched me and the way his voice sounded when he told me he loved me in my ear.

Plus, the emotional catharsis that came with finally telling him the story of my brother has put me in a place mentally where I feel like I could conquer the world... and handle moody teenagers like it’s nothing.

“To those who actually followed instruction, you’re exempt from the additional reading and essay questions I’ll be assigning for homework at the end of the week.”

There are scattering sighs of relief and annoyed groans. You can’t make everyone happy. That’s the life of a teacher.

I give them a bit of reading to do right now, silently to themselves before we begin open discussion, then I pull out my cell phone to check for any messages but not finding any.

I stayed with Isaac until this morning when he took me home to drop me off so that I could come into work. This weekend was incredible to say the least. I really felt like some walls were broken down and we absolutely took the next step.

I’ve never felt this strongly for someone before, so I’m riding this high for as long as I can.

He’s like my green light across the pond, and I’m Gatsby, clinging to the hope that at the end of the day, we will be happy, just as we are, and there isn’t something ominous coming our way.

Because as someone who spends her every day discussing the highs and lows of the human experience as told through fictional characters, I’m programmed to always wait for the other shoe to drop.

But when I feel the stress or worry of that sinking in, I think about the fact he told me he loves me. I have to hold on to that as a positive and not let the fear of the negative drown me.

Isaac

What have I done in my lifetime that is so horrible? Why is the universe choosing me to fuck with? Haven’t my good deeds far outweighed the bad? It sends the most incredible woman my way then tosses the biggest wrench in history right into the middle of us.

---