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"Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place." – Zora Neale Hurston
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Chapter 32|Part 1
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"What is this?" I spurted out.
My hands grazed the diary, picking it up. I couldn't believe it, even though it was right in front of me. I held the physical book in my hands.
It was here.
"You know what it is," he said from his side of the car.
I still held the journal unsurely, running my hand over it. "But, why?" I wanted to know why all of the sudden he gave it back; I needed to understand his sudden change of heart.
His hands tightened across the wheel, stone faced as he stared ahead. "Because now, you won't have to deal with me anymore." His words were overturned with no emotions, though I did detect something.
Sadness.
Waves of regret fell over me. "Kade, I—"
"Don't. You don't have to say anything or pretend any longer," he muttered, his tight grip never dying. "You have your diary back, now let's just forget about everything."
Forget about everything.
Did I truly want to? Did I truly want to forget every single thing Kade and I had endured with each other? Everything that he was making me feel.
I couldn't figure it out. All I knew was that my heartbeat only increased by the moment with Kade. I knew in anothers' eyes, I looked like a crazy person, falling for the man who stole from me.
But, in my eyes, I wanted to be go for it. I wanted to see if my feelings were true to their nature, or just temporary.
And, I wanted Kade.
We were silent, our breaths being the only audible noise in the space. I continued to tug at my shirt as I thought of what to say. I didn't even know if there was anything left to say.
It was silent outside, peaceful and quiet. While there was only a storm inside of me, one so loud and wrecking, it stirred me up from the inside.
Kade remained completely still, only his jaw to me. My regret became heavy as I saw the lack of emotion in his expression.
I averted my gaze ahead. "Thank you for helping me," I said to him, my voice shaky.
"Don't," he shot back.
My head turned his way. "What?"
"Don't start with your bullshit," he mumbled, turning his head to the window.
I breathed shakily, grasping my clammy hands in one another. "I'm not doing anything."
"Yes the fuck you are," he hissed, his hand slamming onto the wheel.
I jerked back from the emotion in his tone. "Stop it," I demanded, attempting a firm tone.
YOU ARE READING
It All Started With a Diary
RomanceI anticipated every breath, and every word. Each day, you could only take an uneducated guess at what he would say. What he would do. My heart tremor as he leaned in. "I was wrong, sweetheart. I was so wrong," he whispered, the words tickling my ea...
