Along The Way

Chapter 8 - When I See Her at the Door

| Dylan |

"ANGEL"

The word hung in the air as I stared at her standing just outside the shop like a vision of perfection.

All thoughts had come to a stop once I caught sight of her. There were no thoughts. F**k, but she could make everything else fade away every time we stood close.

My hungry gaze took it all in, desperate to memorize every detail from the top of her head to the sole of her sneakers before she evaporated like a wicked daydream. Wouldn't be the first time it happened.

Her intense green eyes stayed fixed on me and I felt their touch down to the pit of my stomach. God but I'd missed those eyes. I knew I had, but I didn't realize how much until I had them again.

Her hair looked as soft as I remembered, she had changed it though, the length reaching just above her shoulders and a few lighter streaks could be visible from where I stood. I'd thought I preferred it long, but now that I saw it I realized she could get a pixie cut and still f**king rock it. The girl had the face of an angel. I'd always thought so.

As if thinking it wasn't enough, she was wearing a pale sundress that made her look as if she'd just descended from heaven.

A precious heavenly gift.

That was what she was.

A precious heavenly gift that looked ready to flee.

My eyes narrowed on the foot she had shifted out, I wasn't fool enough to believe she was just shifting her weight.

The thought that she could run away and I'd never get to see her again sent a sharp pain piercing through my chest.

I couldn't f**king lose her again.

No when I finally had her where I wanted her.

Any illusion I might have had at seeing her show up here fled with the realization that she didn't feel comfortable in my presence. She wouldn't be itching to make a run for it if she did. I couldn't blame her. I'd been a f**king asshole to her.

I should be f**king grateful she'd even showed up. Short of breaking and entering or mounting a 24/7 watch outside her house I was f**ked. I knew by experience her asshole of a brother wouldn't let me get even ten feet from her. Not that I hadn't tried.

I'd been trying for two f**king years and the only option left was for me to take a flight to Wisconsin and start calling on random houses hoping someone had seen an angel.

My gaze bounced back to hers, loosing myself in their depths trying to get a feel of her emotions.

There was determination mixed with worry and fear. The fact that she stood firm facing whatever came next, despite her fears, wasn't surprising. She'd always been the strongest girl I'd ever known and, somehow, the most delicate too.

I couldn't accept that I was the cause of all that worry and fear though. That was when I saw the smear of mascara just beneath her eye. My whole body tensed.

I took a step forward instinctively. She stepped back.

I felt that step like a punch to the gut.

F**king shit!

I wanted to pull her into my arms. Wanted to ask her what was wrong.

I couldn't stand the fact that it wasn't my right to know anymore.

I'd lost that privilege.

The irony of it was I'd given it up.

The rag on my hand was being wringed into a dirty pretzel. I never felt more useless as I stood there, staring at her. "Angel, are you okay?"