Page 142 of The Other Side

A montage of my former life scrolls in front of me, and my eyelids fall.

All I see are smiles and big hearts.

Those are the first snapshots that flash in my mind.

Our life was far from perfect over there, but it was filled with perfect moments. And when you’re able to see those streaks of color on the dark page, you realize just how vibrant that color truly is. Those moments made life over there worth it.

We made those moments.

We did that.

I always liked looking at the stars when I was younger. It seemed to be one of the few activities over there where I could look up instead of down. It was my way of wrapping my faith around something when it felt hopeless to anchor it. I’d even wish upon a star or two every now and then.

Wishes were all we had in Willowhart, and they’d always be the same.

I asked for a cozier home. A better life than the one I was forced into. And no matter how much I believed my wishes were pointless, I made them anyway.

That’s the thing about having nothing. You’re willing to try anything because you know you have nothing to lose or let go of. There’s no great sacrifice that has to be made.

Or so I thought.

I had a best friend. An eternal partner. A soulmate. A lover.

The catch is, these people all lived within the same soul.

Dove.

He fulfills every facet of love. I don’t get one or the other with Brant. I get everything.

Everything I ever wanted.

This side may foster my dreams, but the other side created them. That’s the thing about having a lot as opposed to nothing—you start to dream little dreams instead of big ones.

I miss dreaming big.

There was always something to look forward to, and in the past ten years, I’ve found myself at the peak. A threshold because I didn’t bring enough passion with me from those hills.

I left the most important piece behind.

My other half.

“I knew you’d want to stay.”

Jesse’s buoyant tone brushes against my back. My hand reflexively covers the two velvet boxes at my side, my throat rolling as I peek over my shoulder.

I connect my eyes with Jesse’s usual dress shirt and slacks. The only response I offer is a tiny smile, and then I cradle the jewelry boxes to stand.

Jesse’s hands tuck into his pants pockets. “God, I’ve missed you,” he sighs, relief draining from him. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’ve changed your mind.”

A victorious grin graces his face. His gelled hair and eyes glint under the afternoon sun. My smile remains subdued, stretching a centimeter as my eyes scan his face.

“Jesse, I haven’t changed my mind.” I allow the statement to flow for a beat, and his face falls. Just as I lift the two velvet boxes between us. “I meant what I said,” I add. “It’s over.”

I purse my lips, limbs trembling as I train my attention on the jewelry boxes. One harbors the tennis necklace. The other contains the engagement ring.

“Here,” I offer softly.

Jesse’s motionless, his body and mouth absent of any movement. The light breeze whisks between us, and my throat bobs before I elevate my eyes to his.