Behind His Lens (33 page)

Her heels collapse and she sinks down to sit on the soles of her feet as her hands splay open.
The red roses roll out of her palm and scatter against the bottom of her father’s gravestone. They’re the only color against a bleak grey backdrop.

“I have to forgive him and forgive
her
,
or I’ll rot away just like they are. For four years I’ve let my wounds putrefy…” Her words spill forth as her eyes cast up toward the heart of the tree. The golden leaves rustle in the wind and I let their song comfort her rather than trying to stumble over some shitty condolence. She looks utterly spent, but the tears and the breakdown don’t come.

I stand
a few feet away, studying her intently. Small particles of dust swirl around her, visible only in the beams of light that break through the tree’s canopy. The entire scene makes her truly look like a fallen angel, never meant for this world.

“Will you tell me more about him?” I ask, stepping forward and taking a seat next to her. My gut tells me that she’s kept him tucked away in her mind for the past four years
. If it were me, I’d be brimming with untold memories.

Her eyes don’t meet mine, but she falls back onto her butt and wraps her hands around her knees staring wistfully toward his grave.
“He was really silly when it was just us. To the rest of the world, he was a strict business man, but around me he had the best sense of humor. His laugh was the first thing I let myself remember. It was so deep and passionate. He didn’t hold anything back. If he was going to laugh, he wanted the entire world to laugh with him.”

I smile, thinking of her infectious laugh.
“You have that affect as well when you let yourself laugh.”

Her eyes narrow and she rocks her body gently on top of the ground.

“I got most of my identity from him. You hear about children getting their features from one parent and their personality from the other, but not me. I’m the spitting image of my father in every way.”

We sit at that cemetery the entire day. There must have been other visitors, but we didn’t see or hear them. We stayed in the private shade of that Oak tree as I listened to Charley talk about her father. Her words were like the trickling of a faucet, slow and steady. She had so many memories to unravel and her eyes lit up each time she remembered another happy time.

“The Country Club had a father-daughter dance each year.” Her mouth curls into a sly smile as the memory overtakes her. “My mother insisted we attend, and every year my father and I would dress up in obnoxious matching outfits, take pictures at home… and then skip the whole thing entirely. We’d go see a movie or just sit in his car and share hamburgers and a milkshake. I don’t know which one of us wanted to avoid the dance more, but it was clear that we were in it together.” She fiddles with the stem of a rose, twisting it between her fingers and then placing it down in front of his grave once again.

“Did your mother every find out?”
I ask with a crooked smile, wishing I had been fortunate enough to meet her father— to shake his hand and thank him for being the love of his daughter’s life when she needed him the most.

“The
fifth year we skipped, one of her friends finally mentioned that she didn’t see us ‘in attendance’. My mother was livid and wouldn’t stop huffing around the house for weeks. We tried to take it seriously, we didn’t want to make her more upset, but we just couldn’t stop laughing at the absurdity of the whole thing. You know when your whole body turns into a tight coil of laughs and the moment you glance at your accomplice, you laugh even more? That’s how it was for weeks. God, we made her so mad.”

Charley

The day turns to night and we finally pull
ourselves up from that dry cemetery grass. It’s strange that the world continued to pass around us, that dusk still fell even though we stood still in that moment of profound relief.

By the time we reach
ed the cemetery’s gates, we still hadn’t called a cab.

“Can we just walk?”
I ask, glancing up with a newfound contentment behind my gaze.

Jude’s bright blue eyes flicker down to me.
“We can, but it’s a little over four miles. Is that okay?”

“Sounds perfect,”
I sigh, and reach to lace my fingers with his.

We don’t say a single word during that walk home. After speaking for so many hours,
my thoughts are finally calm and silent. Cold wind whips my hair and rich autumn smells fill the air as we pass the coffee shop he took me on our first date. His hand squeezes mine in silent recognition, and I tilt my body against him as we keep walking, wrapped around one another.

The farther we walk from the cemetery, the livelier the city blocks become—bright lights flicker through windows, groups of
teenagers huddle in front of stoops, their voices clamoring over one another to be heard. Each step away from his grave offers one more bit of peace, like I’m a snake shedding the skin that had weighed me down since his death. I’ll never agree with my father’s decision, but I can’t wrestle with the past forever. My pace picks up as my lungs fill with deep, hopeful breaths. I can’t go back now, and that knowledge spurs me forward, away from my darkest days.

Four Months Later

Charley

I haven’t had a low day since we went to the cemetery. My life won’t consist of cupcakes and sunshine, but the gray fog tinting my life with its murky haze has finally lifted. For the first time in four years, I don’t feel like I’m breathing through corrupted lungs.

Revealing the truth was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But when I started, the words slipped out with an easy cadence, as if each syllable carried my broken heart away with them.

Jude and I have been inseparable ever since. The bond we forged that day in the cemetery can’t be broken, and I’ll be eternally grateful that he pushed me to take the next step. I have no doubt I would have eventually found my way to the light, but when I’m around Jude, my life glows brighter, and he led me there much quicker than if I had tried to find it on my own.

We’re walking to meet Bennett and Naomi for brunch like we do on most Sunday mornings. The air still holds a bit of a chill even though spring is starting to invade the city. I’ve never been a “spring” kind of girl, but this year, for once, my life seems to parallel the changing seasons. Jude’s hand wraps around mine in a secure grip and I slide my gaze over to take him in. He’s dressed down in worn jeans, and a long sleeved
tee-shirt, rolled up to his forearms. That short, sexy stubble is ever present, toughening his already gorgeous appearance. His soft blue eyes catch me staring and I smile wide, proud of being caught ogling the man that I get to call mine.

“Can I help you
, Ms. Whitlock?” he asks with a dubious smirk.

“Oh, I’m merely observing,” I offer innocently. With a knowing smile, I turn back to the street, exuding confidence and ease. I wish we could sneak away somewhere before breakfast. Normally Jude wakes me up early enough so that we can make love before starting the day, but we both overslept, leaving me desirous and greedy.

He narrows one of his eyes skeptically, “Mhm, yeah. Your eyes say differently.”

My hip bumps into him teasingly, “Enlighten me.”

He rubs his chiseled jaw. “They have a little heat behind them, like you want to cut this breakfast short.”

I toss my head back and laugh because he’s absolutely right. “You’re lucky I let you leave the apartment at all.”

“Mrs. Jenkins thinks I’m your sex slave,” he teases with a wicked grin.

“What?! Yeah, right. She’s half in love with you herself,” I point out with raised brows.

He shrugs nonchalantly, “She didn’t like me at first.”

“I know. You brought me home drunk,” I joke.

“That’s not the way I remember it… but sure thing, Angel.” He tugs me into his side, wrapping his arm around my waist.

I’d stay in this little
cocoon all day if I could. “She’s been hounding me about being home more,” I admit as I recall our conversation from earlier this week. Most nights Jude and I stay together, but since his apartment has a king size bed, we usually end up staying there.

I feel his head nod above me. “Should I invite her to my apartment with us?”

I laugh, “She’d probably enjoy it.”

“We’d get some of her awesome coffee cake,” he points out, as if actually contemplating the silly idea.

“Sounds like a win-win.”

Suddenly, his body stops propelling us forward and he tugs me back beneath
the awning of a nearby shop.

“What is it?”
I ask. The shop hasn’t opened yet and the linked security bars clink together behind us as I stare up toward him. His expression is completely indiscernible, but I quell the nerves beginning to spread through me.

He tugs a hand through his unruly hair and I fight the urge to twirl my finger through the strands in his wake. “Charley, before we get there I need to talk to you about something.”

“Wow. That sounds ominous,” I quip, trying to lighten the mood, but my eyebrows still bunch together in concern. “What’s up?”

He takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around my waist so that our lower bodies are connected.
His hand starts rubbing small circles on my back as he speaks, “You know how the magazine called me last month to offer me a freelance position?”

“Yes…” I answer hesitantly, no longer able to push the uneasiness aside. He’s
leaving
. When they called I knew he would have to leave, but I didn’t think it would be so soon.

He squeezes me closer, his charming gaze never faltering. “They talked to me about another opportunity
, and I want to get your opinion about it.”

“You can’t leave
,” I stutter, already preparing for the worst case scenario. Way to play it cool, Charley.

“Charley, pause.” His leans down to kiss me softly
, but he pulls away before I can fully lose myself in the taste of him. “You haven’t even heard everything yet.”

I take a deep breath. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“They want me to do a three month assignment overseas. I’ll be traveling through various countries, but I said I would only go if I could bring along an
assistant
of sorts.”

My eyes go wide. Please bring me. Please say you want me to come. “What? Who are you taking with you?”

He glances down from my eyes toward my lips, and then a cheeky grin breaks across his face. “I’m
only
going if you come with me. It’s non-negotiable.”

“But I…” I begin to protest, for no other reason than it seems too good to be true.

“…Am painting,” he finishes. “You have enough saved from your photo shoots and you told me you wanted to take the next year off. What if you traveled with me? You could paint along the way. We could ship your canvases home as we go.”

I absorb his words. It’s too good to true. How is this my life?

He bends down, kissing the skin beneath my ear and making me break out in a bloom of goose bumps. “All I know is that I’m not going without you.”

Holy hell.

“Where would we go first?” I ask, buying myself more time to process everything.

“We’d fly into Rome
.” He kisses me gently. His minty breath captures me under his spell and I feel my toes curl inside my boots.

“Then?”

“Greece.” He gives me a peck. “Turkey,” he says, adding another kiss. “Syria, Egypt— Around to Morocco, Spain, and France.”

A shiver runs down my spine as his mouth possesses me
, and I know my voice sounds shaky as I ask, “Is your assignment just around the Mediterranean?”

“Yes, I’ll be shooting for a piece they’re writing about Urbanization on the coast of the Mediterranean
Sea. While I’m there I’ll have small assignments along the way. But we’ll be traveling at our own pace. After I get the photos I need at each location, we can explore until we’re ready to move onto the…”

I cut him off midway through his sentence as I leap up into his arms. My mind was made up the moment he said he was leaving the country, but I had to let it sink in. My arms wrap around his neck and my feet dangle a foot or so off the ground
as he holds me like a ragdoll. “Yes. Absolutely yes. When do we leave?”

“You’ll come with me?”

“Yes!”

His dimpled grin melts my heart and his blue eyes dance with excitement. “I haven’t confirmed with them, but it would be within the next few weeks. We can arrange everything with your apartment before then.”

This is happening. We’re going abroad together.