Page 111 of Nineteen Letters

You glanced at balloon boy over your shoulder. “How high will we go?”

“We have perfect conditions … light winds and good visibility, so we can get up to around two thousand feet if you like.”

I had issues with being a few metres off the ground, so it was a miracle I didn’t pass out, or keel over and die from heart failure.

I needed a distraction, fast. I grabbed hold of your face, crashing my lips to yours. Our mouths stayed locked together for a long time, but unfortunately, not long enough. We were still in the air and climbing at an alarming rate.

“Don’t move,” I whispered when you tried to pull away.

“Why?”

“Two words: Boy Scout.”

You buried your face in my chest and giggled.

Turning you in my arms, my front was now pressed against your back, as I reached for the edge of the basket again.

I can’t put into words how relieved I felt when we finally landed. I climbed out of that basket at lightning speed before reaching for you. What I really wanted to do was get down on my hands and knees and kiss the damn ground, but that would have been a dead giveaway, soinstead, I grabbed hold of your face and planted a chaste kiss on your lips.

“That was amazing … simply amazing,” you shrieked, leaping into my arms. “I’m on such a high.”

“Me too.” That wasn’t a lie. I was. But my high was from being back on the ground.

“We need to do that again someday … no, actually, we need to go on a plane next.” The excitement in your voice made me smile despite everything I was feeling on the inside. “I’ve always wanted to fly away to some exotic beachside destination with you.”

I had no reply to that. I would have been happy to board a plane with you—if it just sat on the tarmac and didn’t take off.

But in my heart, I already knew we would jet off somewhere one day. Especially now that I knew it was something you had always wanted. Being with you—even if it was at thirty thousand terrifying feet in the air–was better than not being near you at all.

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you happy.

What we had is far too beautiful to be forgotten.

Yours always,

Braxton

I place the charms inside the envelope before sealing it. A rose to symbolise the flowers I gave her on our first date. And a hot air balloon; a momento of my birthday gift from hell.

Chapter 31

Braxton

It’s Sunday, and although it’s my day off, I’m up at the crack of dawn. I’m too worked up to sleep. Jemma’s coming over today to work in the garden.

Last night, we talked on the phone for almost two hours. It reminded me of old times. When I went away to university, we’d do this every night. She’d give me a blow-by-blow account of her day, and I’d tell her about mine.

Although I was an hour-and-a-half drive away, we tried not to miss a minute of each other’s day. It helped keep us connected. It didn’t stop me from missing her, though.

The hardest part of our conversation was saying goodbye and then trying to fall asleep without her wrapped in my arms. At least there was a smile on my face as I lay there thinking about her. Until there’s a reason not to, I’m going to remain positive. Every step forward is a step closer to getting her back.

After a long walk on the beach with Bella-Rose, I’m surprised I don’t wear a path into the hardwood floors waiting for Jemma to arrive when we return to the house. The poor dog paces right alongside me, but eventually she gives up and curls up on her bed.

Looking down at my watch, I see it’s almost eleven. I want to call her, but I don’t want to seem too eager. We didn’t agree on an exact time, but she said midmorning.

A few minutes later there’s a knock on the door, and my worry that she might have changed her mind soon turns into elation.

“Hey,” I say when I open the front door. She’s dressed ready to work, in a pair of tights and a T-shirt. Her hair is tied back in a low ponytail. I’ve noticed since the accident that she has a side fringe instead of having it all pulled back from her face. My guess is it’s to hide the scars.