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“You’re staring,” she whispers. “Can’t help it,” I whisper back. Her hands flutter in front of her before she fists them in the material of the skirt. “Is it—does it look bad?” “Bad?” I snap my eyes back to hers. “Harriet. You’re lovely.” Her hands smooth over the skirt again. “It’s quite the dress,” she says. “I’m not talking about the dress.”
“I could spend an eternity studying you and still not know what you might do next. You give so much of yourself, so freely. You’re . . .wild with your attentions. Miraculous. I’ve seen so many lives, Harriet, but I’ve never seen someone live like you.”
“What a gift that is. To still wish and dream and want. To find the good. To wear it on your sleeve.”
“You look like a dream,” he murmurs. “You don’t dream.” I laugh. “I do. I dream of you.” His voice is low. “Every time I close my eyes, it’s you I see. You I want.”
“Maybe I was always supposed to find you,” I rasp. Maybe, my heart adds, you were always supposed to be mine.
“You’ve been waiting, Nolan.” Something uncharacteristically tender and soft transforms Isabella’s harsh features. “You’ve been waiting for Harriet. To exist in the same time as her. Your souls were together in the beginning, and so they shall be in the end.”
She’s been waiting for you her entire life, and you’ve been searching for her just as long.”
“It was you, Harriet. You are the one I’ve been waiting for. You were never supposed to move me forward, you were supposed to hold me here. Keep me tethered.” He presses his forehead to mine. “It was always supposed to be you.”
Nolan cups my jaw and drags my mouth to his, kissing me like his life depends on it. And in a way, I suppose it does. He came from another time to love me, and I’ve been waiting to love him in return. That’s what this hollow ache in my chest has been about. We just had to find each other.
