by L. Duarte
“How about after Jake’s death? Why not tell me then?”
“That week was overwhelming for you. I was gonna tell you. After the funeral. But then… Then you disappeared. I spent my summer hunting you down.”
“It hurt so badly to see you with Jessica. But what hurt the most was to think that the Caleb I had fallen for didn’t exist,” I whimpered.
“I know, love. I saw it on your face. For what’s worth, it killed me to act like an ass.”
Caleb’s fingers traced a tear rolling down my cheek. “Please forgive me. Please believe me,” he pleaded. Tears filled his eyes. “I love you, Luna. When I saw you for the first time, I had this knowing, this certainty that you were the love of my life. No, it’s beyond love. When my eyes found yours, my entire being connected to you. I could feel parts of my soul twisting, stretching like tentacles, reaching for yours. I felt my flesh prickling, my heart expanding, making room for yours. I knew then, what I’m telling you now, Luna. Without you, I’m condemned to a lonely existence. To a meaningless life. You are entwined with the deepest parts of me. You are ingrained in my body, mind, and soul.”
I threw myself into his arms. “Oh, Caleb. I love you more than I ever thought I was capable of loving.”
His arms wrapped around me. It was home. Like a swallow, I had found a home.
Dear reader,
There are over seven billion people on this mighty earth of ours. What are the odds of finding the perfect mate? Of making a soul-deep connection? Well, I believe that we all find ours. Some are in the form of a mother or a father, a sister or a brother, a grandmother or a grandfather, a friend, or a distant relative. But sometimes it comes in the form of lovers. I can’t say that one form is better than the others; I also can’t say whether or not we can only find one or none, or many. There isn’t a formula. However, there are forces beyond our understanding conspiring in our favor. Pay attention, you never know what form yours will come in. But I’m certain that it will come. Be on guard.
As for my tales, as promised, they are now yours. Do with them as you may.
Whether you liked or hated this journey, thank you for taking it with me.
Sincerely,
Luna
Caleb
CLUTCHING A LOAF of French bread, I climb the stairs two at a time, and fling the front door open.
“Luna, I got bread. It’s still warm,” I say, strolling to the kitchen and tossing the bread on the table.
The soulful voice of Tarry Francis floats on the cool spring morning. Luna has a serious fan crush on the singer. If I weren’t so certain that her heart belongs to me, I’d be jealous as hell.
Luna squeaks my name and drops the book she’s been reading. From the kitchen area, I see her arms and legs flailing as she leaps from the bed.
“You’re not gonna believe it, I found it! I found the book, Cal. I found the book that inspired the name Laska,” she says, springing in my direction.
She’s wearing a white tank top with floral shorts that make her legs look like they stretch on for miles. Her hair, now with teal highlights, is tousled from sleep. Her face radiates wonder and awe.
Her arms flash around my neck and her legs circle my hips.
“Oh, love, I’m all sweaty and gross,” I say, chuckling. I had just run for five miles.
“I love your sweat,” she says, clinging to my shoulders, her tongue sweeping over my neck.
“I love you, Caleb. I love Dad. I love literature. I love life,” she says.
My hands grip her ass, and I carry her through the room while she kisses my neck and chest. I place her over the desk, settle in between her legs, and open a drawer. I pull an envelope from inside and hand it to her.
“Congratulations.”
She bites the inside of her cheek and tilts her head with that captivating cockiness that kills me each time.
“What is this?”
“Go on… open it,” I say.
She rips the envelope open, and her eyes widen as a smile beams into existence on her face.
“Wow, I, uh…, God, Caleb, thank you,” she says, staring at two airplane tickets and a map of Europe.
“Wait. When? How did you know I was reading the book?”
“Um…” I shake my head in shame. “Google.”
“When did you look it up?” she asks, appalled.
“Um, sort of when you told me the story,” I respond sheepishly.
“You cheater,” she says, slapping at my arms. “You knew this entire time, and you never told me?”
“And betray the man you look up to? Never.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “I marked some countries I want to see. It’s a two-month backpacking trip. We leave a week after school ends.”
“I love you, you know?” she says with a slew of emotions showing in her face.
Finishing the game with her deceased dad was a way of honoring him—connecting to him. I wanted to make it extra special.
“I know, love. I love you, too.”
I kiss her long and thoroughly. Desire swells in my loins as I carry her to our bed. Bread, book, and trip be damned. I want a taste of my Luna. I want to take her to the moon, our favorite place in the entire world.
Oh, you want to know the name of the book? Sorry, for the answer to that question, you’ll either have to find out for yourself or ask Luna.
The end
THERE ARE SO many people that I’ll be eternally grateful for. I guess I’ll name a few.
Renee Giraldy, I can’t imagine this journey without your support. Words are inadequate to express how much I appreciate you.
Renee Matthews thank you for your eagle’s eyes. Nothing gets past them.
Chelsea Camaron thank you for helping me tame this beast.
Kelli you rock my boring writing world. Thank you for always reminding me of what this is all about. The love for the craft of writing.
Wendy, your insight is so precious, your feedback is always on target, and your words are always honest, but kind.
Carol Allen thank you for polishing my manuscript. *muwah.
Kathie from Kat’s Eye Editing, you did a fabulous job smoothing all wrinkles in my writing. Thank you.
To you who stumbled upon this book, a gazillion thanks for reading it.
To God, I love you. Thank you for being so awesome.
I HAVE FOUND that there is only one thing better than reading, and that is writing. I am always torn between the two. I am also frequently torn between chocolate and coffee. However, I emphatically do not like the month of February, lies, and flies. For me, bravery is defined by the courage to do what we fear the most. This conviction is reflected in my debut work of romantic fiction, Chasing Stars.
One of my all-time favorite quote is from Albert Einstein. “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” I live according to the latter, so is fair to say my writing will always include miracles. And by that I mean, lots of love, hope, and faith. These are some of the greatest miracles of life. I live in Connecticut with my husband and two children. Drop a few lines. I would love to hear from you.
CONNECTIONS:
EMAIL
[email protected]
TWITTER
@LDuarte77
FACEBOOK
https://www.facebook.com/luciana.duarte.7509836
https://www.facebook.com/pages/LDuarte/265326050277001?hc_location=timeline
WEBSITE
https://profiles.google.com/u/0/101051622201699883412
GOODREADS
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7170413.L_Duarte
OTHER TITLES BY L. DUARTE
Chasing Stars
To Catch a Falling Star
ds