To my left and far below, I see the lake that I love so much. It ripples in the morning breeze, a surreal, picturesque moment that scorches itself into my mind forever.
The entire world around us feels so alive and vibrant, as though we’re moving parts of a painting.
Tears fill my eyes as my gaze meets the stunning panoramic vista stretching across the horizon. Every stone, street, and building below me is bursting with memories.
The candy store I begged my mother to take me to every Saturday. The park where Maria and I decided we’d rule the world one day. It’s all right there beneath my feet.
From up here, the world seems so small. As the clouds roll past and the sun bathes me in its golden light, I feel as if I can touch the sky.
“It’s incredible,” I mumble through my fingers.
“Yeah,” Chris sighs. “It is.”
Stealing my attention from the concrete jungle, I turn to him.
“It would be amazing to paint here,” I say.
Chris nods. “That’s the plan.”
“Huh?”
“I know the owner,” he says. “She said you can use this place as much as you like.”
My mouth falls open. “Oh my God. Really?”
Chris nods, and then a pang of jealousy bubbles in my stomach.
The woman who owns this place must be some high-flying millionaire.
“How do you know the owner?” I ask.
Chris shrugs. “Can’t remember. Think I saved her ass a few times and she just stuck to me like glue.”
Ouch. That stings.
“Is she pretty?” I ask him.
Why the hell is he smiling like that?
He nods. “Yeah. She has a photo in her bedroom. Hang on.”
My heart thumps hard as Chris turns his back and walks into another room.
Why does he know this place so well?
And why the hell does he know where her bedroom is?
Folding my arms, I gaze around the penthouse apartment. The walls are painted in a rich, warm cream, giving the place a cozy, intimate feel.
A massive fireplace takes up one corner of the living room, with plush rugs, blankets, and two luxurious couches surrounding it. The floors are made from pale, polished cherry wood that matches the walls.
From where I’m standing, I see an open-plan kitchen with gleaming stainless steel appliances, a beautiful dining area, and an assortment of art on the walls.
Just as I’m imagining the kind of woman who could afford a place like this, Chris returns from her bedroom and I raise an eyebrow.
“Got it,” he says, hiding the photograph behind him.
“Whatever,” I mumble. “I don’t want to see her.”
Wearing the blue suit I love so much, Chris smirks.
“Oh, come on, Harper.”
“No!” I snap. “I know you have a past, Chris. But you’re taking the pi?-“
“Here she is,” he says, pulling his hands from behind his back.
I frown into the mirror he’s holding and stare at my reflection.
“I’ll wait,” he says, chuckling.
“Wait for what?” I stop breathing when it hits me and I lift my head. “No? You don’t mean…?”
Chris flashes his pearly white smile.
“Yup. It’s all yours, Harper. Now you get to live in the sky, just like you wished.”
Tears roll down my cheeks when I realize he’s being serious.
“And just so you don’t forget me,” he says, jogging over to the adjacent wall.
Grabbing the red drape, Chris yanks it away and I stare up at my painting.
He’s standing under his own portrait, and something stirs inside me.
“Don’t cry,” he tells me. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Like I’m being sucked into a vortex, those words echo in my head and my mind catapults me back in time.
“Don’t cry. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Glancing up at a soaking wet Chris Collins in the portrait I painted, my gaze falls down to the older version grinning at me.
And just like that, the blur of time between then and now snaps like a rubber band, and the two worlds collide inside me.
“Hey,” Chris says, concerned as he strides over to me. “Hey, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”
“Don’t cry. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Y…you,” I mumble, my eyes flickering between him and the painting.
Chris chuckles as he wipes his thumb across my cheek.
“Yeah,” he says. “That’s me. You should know, you painted it.”
“Thank you for saving me,” I whisper through my fingers.
Chris winks. “Which time?”
I shake my head as I glance at the portrait.
“Twelve years ago,” I say. “When you lost a shoe…”
His smile fades and he gulps as he turns to look at the painting.
“You want some breakfast?” Chris asks, his voice cracking as he stares at the door.
“Look at me,” I say.
“I could cook you some eggs, or…”
I grab his forearm and turn him to face me. His bloodshot eyes look broken and lost as he clears his throat.
“You saved me,” I say. “The night my mother died. That painting must have been some kind of repressed memory.”
I watch his jaw pulse and twitch as he stares down at my hand.
“That’s why you’re soaking wet and only wearing one shoe,” I add, it all suddenly making so much sense. “You dragged me from the sinking car. And you said…”
“Don’t cry,” he murmurs. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Pressing my hand to his face, I lift his chin and look into those dark eyes.
“That’s twice I’ve had to give you mouth-to-mouth,” he says, tears rolling into my palm. “Please don’t let there be a third time.”
This is so surreal. I feel like I’m watching it unfold from outside my body.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.
He shrugs one shoulder. “Didn’t know how.”
“So was that a lie my dad told me? About some woman called Caroline rescuing me? And she couldn’t come forward because she was having an affair?”
Chris grabs my hand and his fingers are shaking.
“Yeah,” he says, sniffing hard. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you both, Harper. Your mother was already…you know.”
I nod. “I know. So what happened that night?”
Chris lets go of my hand and walks past me. He then presses his forehead against the glass, and we both gaze over the city.
“Your dad and I made a lot of enemies when we were building the nightclubs,” he explains. “We’d already had a fewthreats, but we thought it was just bullshit. People who want to hurt you don’t usually tell you. They just do it.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.