Page 13 of Liberating Bells
There are three towns in the United States called ‘Santa Claus.’
I look to Izabel, confused, and she grins. I reach into the bag and grab another piece of confetti.
Ketchup was sold in the 1830s as medicine.
I now look at her in amusement.
“It’s forty-five things you don’t know,” she explains. “I thought it would be funny since it’s been years since I’ve riddled you with fun facts. I have to make up for lost time.”
I bark out a laugh and grin at her, appreciative of the thoughtful gift. I look over each fun fact a little more, struck by how much time she must’ve put into this, finding each fact and piecing them together with care. Her fun facts are something that might be meaningless to anyone else. Even after all this time, there’s something nostalgic about her sharing this side of herself with me. “Thanks, Bells. I love it.”
“That’s not the actual present, though. That was just for fun.” She urges me to go back into the bag. I do and pull out the heavy object. I can tell it’s a book the minute I pick it up. Its hardcover presses into my hand. I tear off the tissue paper and read the front cover.
“The Obstacle is the Way: The Timeless Art of Turning Trials into Triumph.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should even bother getting you a book since, you know, you don’t read as much as I do. But I’ve heard a lot about this one, and I thought it would be a good office warming gift,” Izabel rambles as I peruse the back cover.
“This is great,” I say. “I’m sure this will be a great reference. Thank you so much, Bells.”
She glows at the nickname. I noticed this same reaction at the birthday party too. Softness fills her eyes for a second and I’m drawn to her. Before she has the chance to protest, I’ve pulled her into my arms and pressed her against my chest in a warm hug.
Izabel stiffens for a moment before she allows herself to relax in my embrace. Her head rests against my shoulder as her arms wrap around my waist. I hold her against me, relishing the feeling.
With her in my arms again, I finally feel like I’m home. Her heartbeat strums against my chest, the pulse rapid just like mine.
I know I should let her go. I have to draw the boundary line in the sand. For us, I suspect the line from friendly to intimate could easily be crossed.She’s engaged, she’s not mine.
I know this, but I don’t want to let her go. It’s as if while I’m holding her close to me, all those years of loneliness and desperation are slowly fading away. Maybe it’s the way she’s clutching me, or how her scent engulfs my senses, but for the first time in a long, long time, everything feels right.
We stay in our embrace for a moment too long. My heart aches at the thought of releasing her, but I do.
When I step away, I meet her eyes to see her watching me from under her lashes. A soft flush is creeping up her neck, and her lips are pressed into a thin line. I shove my hands into my pockets so I don’t reach for her again.
The line has been drawn.
The silence is deafening, but when I open my mouth to say something, anything, a knock on the door reverberates through the room. Both of us startle, not expecting the interruption.
Lori cracks open the door and glances between the two of us, a knowing smirk on her face. Izabel blushes and digs into her bag, trying to look busy.
“Sorry to interrupt. Ryan, Ms. Stevenson is on the line for you,” Lori says, amusement in her tone.
I rub the back of my neck and nod at my assistant. “Thank you, I’ll take it in here.”
Once Lori steps away, Izabel looks at me with a guilty expression. “I guess that’s my cue. I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Thanks again for the present.”
Izabel gives me a small smile. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re home, Ryan.”
My chest warms with her admission. Izabel observes me for another second before she turns and leaves. As soon as she’s gone, the emptiness within my chest reopens. I rub my fist against my sternum, trying to relieve the ache.
Izabel has always had this kind of effect on me. That woman could wreck me, single-handedly.
My pulse thrums as I walk around my desk, replaying every moment of that interaction in my head. What I would give to go back in time and hold on to her as tightly as I could. If I had the chance, I’d never ever let her go again.
But now she’s engaged.
ToMark.
