Page 117 of Hang the Moon
ANNIE (11:04 P.M.):C’est à tes côtés que je veux construire ma vie.
Her vision swam and a knot formed in her throat.God, she missed him.
ANNIE (11:04 P.M.):It means “I’d like to build my life with you by my side.”
She stared at her phone, watching the time tick by, seconds turning into minutes. Her heart leaped into her throat when another message appeared.
BRENDON (11:07 P.M.):Ah.
BRENDON (11:08 P.M.):Thank you.
She set her phone down and buried her face in her hands.
***
Thursday, June 24
Her passport wassomewherein the black hole of her purse. The exact location was yet to be seen, but it wasn’t where it was supposed to be, neatly tucked away in the side zipped pocket where she kept her important documents for travel.
She dumped her bag upside down on her bedroom floor, a mountain of miscellaneous items forming atop the carpet. Lipstick. Another lipstick. Sunscreen. Wallet. She wrinkled her nose. Junk. Panic gripped her chest. Where thehellwas her passport?
Sorting through the pile with clammy fingers, she sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.
Maybe this wasn’t a bad thing.
Maybe if she lost her passport, it was the universe’s way of telling her not to move to London, not to take the job, financial security be damned. Fate had taken the wheel and was deciding her path for—
Buried at the bottom of the pile, beneath her tin of cinnamon Altoids, was her passport. Her shoulders slumped. There went that theory. Her destiny was still hers to control. She plucked her passport from the pile and something tucked inside fluttered to the floor.
Her hand stilled, hovering over the photo. It was one of the pictures Brendon had taken of her at the wedding, her face fuzzy as she reached for the camera. As she reached for Brendon.
She lifted the photo up, studying her slash of a smile, tracing it with her fingertips. Even blurry, she radiated happiness. She lifted a hand to her face and traced the poor facsimile curving her mouth.
The photo was nice, but it couldn’t compare to the real thing. Being there. Laughing with Brendon. Her fingertips pulsing as she’d rested them against his chest. His dimples.Her heart leaping into her throat when he’d fallen backward into the water. Her stomach aching from holding in her laughter when he’d broken the surface, sputtering.
Blindly, Annie patted the carpet behind her, searching for her phone so she could take a picture of the photo and send it to Brendon. A small gesture, maybe, but she wanted him to know she was thinking about him. That she appreciated his patience, his putting up with her indecision. That he’d given her the space to make up her mind and do it on her terms.
Her phone was somewhere. She grimaced. Fingers crossed she hadn’t accidentally packed it in one of her boxes. Hunting it down would be arealtreat seeing as it was on silent.
She found it beneath her roll of packing tape and breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t totally fucked up; it would have rendered her packing useless if she had to reopen all her boxes and dig through her belongings just to find her phone. She set the volume on full blast just in case she misplaced it again.Whenshe misplaced it again.
Before she could open her camera, she noticed a notification and swiped to open it.
Elle had tagged her in a photo on Instagram.
She frowned because she wasn’t in the photo. Elle had snapped a picture selfie-style of her, Margot, Darcy, and Brendon seated around the coffee table, where Monopoly was spread out. Annie tapped the photo and pressed her lips together, her eyes watering viciously. Elle had tagged her on the empty cushion beside Brendon.
His arms were resting casually on his knees and his smile was the brightest thing in the photo. She could hear his throaty chuckle when she shut her eyes, knew exactly how his lips felt curving against her mouth in that same grin.
The caption read,The gang’s all here minus @anniekyriakos. We miss you!
She couldn’t stop herself from clicking on his profile, getting her fix any way she could.
She shouldn’t have.
Her breath escaped her in a punched-out exhale, her chest threatening to cave in on itself. She ground her teeth together tokeep her chin from trembling, vision blurring and face burning as she stared at Brendon’s latest post.
He looked gorgeous, like he always did. So did the girl practically draped over him as they both smiled for the camera.
