Page 45 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO
“The point,” I echo, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “They were yours. Things you loved.”
She does not look at me, her attention firmly on the camera as she snaps another photo. “I loved a lot of things I had to leave behind.”
Her words hang in the air between us, heavy and loaded, and I have no idea how to respond.
After a long pause, she straightens and adjusts the angle of her tripod. “You’re still staying up late, I see,” she says, her tone lighter now, clearly trying to change the subject.
“Old habits,” I reply, “you were always terrible at being on time,”
She shoots me a look over her shoulder. “And you’re not great at minding your own business.”
“But…”
She laughs; her laugh is soft, almost nostalgic.
“Is it weird?” I ask suddenly.
“What?”
“Living here. Knowing it is my guesthouse.”
She turns to me, her brow furrowed. “Should it be?”
I shrug, unsure of the answer myself. “I do not know. Just seems..., strange.”
“Well, I’m paying rent, so technically, it’s mine for now,” she says, a smirk tugging at her lips.
I cannot help but smile back. “Fair point. What are you shooting?”
“It’s for a personal project,” she says, her voice softer now as she takes a picture of the night sky. “Something I’ve been working on for a while.”
“Yeah? What kind of project?”
She hesitates; her eyes fixed on the picture she has taken. “Just…, capturing moments. People, places. The in-between stuff that everyone overlooks. Right now, the night sky is beautiful,” she says softly. “I needed to capture it. And the fireflies.”
“You’ve changed,” I say, not entirely sure if it is a compliment or an observation.
She pauses, her fingers adjusting the lens of her camera. A soft chuckle escapes her lips. "Haven’t we all?"
Her gaze drifts to the night sky as if she is searching for answers in the stars, and for a moment, I don’t say anything. I just watch her. The way the soft light dances across her features,the faint curve of her lips as she smiles, the ease she seems to carry despite everything.
And just for that fleeting second, I see her. The girl I used to love five years ago.
The one who could light up a room with her laugh, whose stubbornness could rival mine, and who saw the world with a kind of wonder that made you believe in things you had long stopped believing in.
But then the moment shifts, reality slipping back in, and I realize she is not the same girl.
She is the girl who left me and shattered all I knew about her.
I clear my throat, forcing the thoughts back where they belong - buried deep. “All right,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “I’ll leave you to it.”
She blinks, her attention snapping back to me. “Oh.” There is a flicker of surprise in her expression, followed by something I cannot quite read. “Okay.”
I nod, turning on my heel before the moment stretches too thin, before I say or do something I cannot take back.
“Liam,” she says suddenly, her voice softer now.
“Yeah?”
