Page 42 of The Sound of Forever
But I can’t let myself go there. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
She deserves someone better than me—someone who isn’t trying to rebuild a life from the wreckage of what they destroyed. But when I’m with her, I can’t help but want to be better. Even if I don’t know how.
So, tomorrow, I’ll show up again. I’ll go with the flow, try to match my breath to hers, and hope she doesn’t notice how often I hold it when she’s close.
And I’ll wonder, just like I always do, if this thing that’s growing between us is real—or if it’s just me, grasping for something I’ll never have the courage to reach for.
ChapterForty-Four
Keane
I don’t knowwhy I’m here. Picnics have never been my thing. Hiking up a trail, eating a sandwich with one hand while taking in the view at the summit—that made sense. But sitting on a blanket, carefully unpacking lunch, and making small talk? That’s foreign territory.
Still, I agreed to lunch with Julianna and Rayne this afternoon.
Rayne is sprawled on a picnic blanket near the edge of the yard, her crayons scattered like drops of color on the grass. She’s bent over her drawing, her tongue poking out slightly as she concentrates on a rabbit holding a kite. There’s a smear of blue across her cheek that she hasn’t noticed, and I can’t bring myself to tell her—it suits her in a way that makes me smile.
Julianna sits cross-legged beside her, sipping iced tea and laughing softly at something Rayne just said. Her hair is pulled back into a loose braid, and she’s wearing a sundress that brushes against her knees when the breeze moves through the yard.
I’m leaning against the porch railing, watching them. Telling myself I’m here because Julianna invited me for lunch earlier, but that’s not the full story. The truth is, I’ve found myself coming over more and more often.
There’s something about being here, with them, that feels . . . like I don’t have to keep running.
It’s strange to admit. Here, watching Julianna lean over to help Rayne pick a new color, hearing their soft laughter, I feel something I haven’t felt in a long time.
Hope.
Maybe even happiness.
Julie looks up and catches me staring. Her smile is warm, her eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, and it does something to me I can’t quite explain.
“Come sit,” she says, gesturing to the empty spot on the blanket.
I hesitate for a moment, but then I push off the railing and walk toward them, feeling like a guest in a world I’m not sure I belong in. I lower myself onto the blanket, the grass cool beneath the fabric, and Julianna hands me a sandwich wrapped neatly in parchment paper.
“Rayne made the menu,” she says with a playful smile.
Rayne beams, holding up her drawing for me to see. “What do you think?” she asks, her voice eager.
“It’s great,” I say, studying the rabbit soaring through a sky filled with colorful scribbles. “Looks like he’s having a pretty good day.”
She giggles, her eyes bright as she adds more details to the kite string.
Julianna passes me a glass of iced tea, her fingers brushing mine for a moment. It’s nothing, just a small gesture, but it lingers in a way that makes me feel rooted in the moment.
We eat in comfortable quiet, the sounds of the yard filling the spaces between bites—the soft rustle of leaves, the occasional chirp of a bird.
“This is nice,” I say finally, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
Julianna glances at me. “It is,” she agrees, her voice carrying a note of nostalgia. “I remember when Mom and Dad used to organize picnics or camping trips in our backyard. They’d set up a tent, cook on a little portable stove, the whole thing. Oscar and I loved it. Elena, not so much,” she whispers the last few words.
“Oscar is?” I ask, frowning slightly as I try to remember if she’s ever mentioned him before.
“My brother,” she responds. “He travels a lot, so he hasn’t been around much.”
“And Nydia is your cousin, right?” I ask, piecing it together from something Rowan had mentioned the other day on the phone.
She nods, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.
