Secrets of Us A Forbidden Love Romance (Alina)

Chapter 220

Leather Journals

The rest of the trip passes in by in contentment. Peace.

We don't have another confrontation or a deep conversation, and I'm thankful for it. Even

more thankful that we aren't forced to share a bed again.

When Zaid woke up, he pulled away like I had burned him.

And maybe I had.

I burn for him.

For once, things are easy. We exist in the same space without feeling the need to fill the silence, and it doesn't feel like something is missing. It feels full in its own

quiet way.

I rest my head against the window, watching the blur of trees and signs pass. Zaid hums along to the music, tapping the wheel in rhythm, and every now and then, he glances at

1. me.

I never look directly at him, because although I feel better than I have in days, sometimes it's still too much. The heaviness hasn't disappeared completely, but it's settled. Like we're learning how to carry it.

We had to stop by and buy a couple of coats and blankets, neither one of us used to the

weather this far east and north.

By the time we reach Virginia, the sun is low, casting everything in a beautiful orange light.

The air smells different here, fresher, cleaner. Hopeful, almost. And the glass against my

cheek is cold.

Zaid pulls off the road and drives up the narrow gravel path that winds around a gentle hill. When the house comes into view, my breath catches.

It's exactly how I remember it from the listing. The white wood, the wraparound porch, the tall windows that I just know make the house feel light and bright.

My eyes shift to the sign in the front yard and the large bold letters that spell out 'sold'.

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Leather Journals

sadness creeping into my

and when I turn to face him,

frown, confused, and turn back to the house.

in

it?" I

my

I just stare at

words. I'm already

and

of joy spark in my

leaves are touching the water.

gasp, pressing both hands over my mouth. "It's beautiful," I say, voice

with soft eyes. His hands in his pockets. "Yeah,

perfect."

around the porch, and he squats by the front door where the lockbox is. My heart hammers in my chest when he opens it, and

floors, big open rooms, windows

him, exploring room by room, pointing things

each space could

first dibs," Zaid says. "Pick out whatever rooms you want.

the center of what the living room, arms wide like I

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stop and look at him with narrowed eyes. "I can't believe you

shrugs, all casual. "It's the house you wanted.

it."

my chest. Warm and painful and

our bags. I mostly hover, pretending

sit on the floor

me, too

flashes behind my eyes. A wedding dress. Laughter

across the porch.

now. I

and eat cross-legged on the floor with two

soft music humming from Zaid's phone, and blankets spread out like

Simple. And then Zaid

something for

almost unsure, insecure. I lean toward him,

already given me so

and hands it to me without a word. I look down. It's a leather-bound journal, smooth and new, blank