Page 45 of Little Pieces of Light

I’d built a fire in our fireplace for the first time.

Dean, Harper, and the rest of the Math time for her to get home.

I walked her to my front door. The night was black but soft, the front porch light casting a warm yellow glow. We kissed goodbye, and she stepped backward onto the path, grasping the locket in her palm.

“Hey, it’s snowing,” she said. She held out her hand, her smile radiant as she caught snowflakes on her fingers.

My heart ached to look at her. Her hair flowed in soft gold ribbons around the shoulders of her white cashmere sweater.

Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold.

From under her bangs, her blue-green eyes were bright and brilliant.

Everything about her was soft and warm, white and gold…

I watched as snowflakes dusted her hair.

I couldn’t understand how all of this beauty—the interior luminosity of her—could possibly be for me.

Tell her. Tell her now…

But the words remained trapped in my throat, restrained by a heart that was scared to declare itself the property of this girl who was, in all likelihood, going to leave.

Because she had to. Because her beauty wasn’t all for me, but something she needed to share with the world, far away from her father’s poison.

Then I let the moment slip out of my hands again. Emery crooked two fingers at me with a smile and stepped into the night.