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

creeping into my

I turn to face him, there's a quiet smile on his

turn back

in park and

it?" I

nods. "Made some calls. Got my dad to

open and I

I'm already unbuckling, flying out of

and around the

my eyes when I see

beneath the setting sun like church windows. It's surrounded by trees whose leaves are touching the water. It's even better than I

over my mouth. "It's beautiful," I say,

me, quiet, watching me with soft eyes. His hands in his pockets.

perfect."

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

empty but alive. With hardwood floors, big open rooms, windows that beg for sunlight, and maybe one

ahead of him, exploring

each space

says. "Pick out whatever rooms you want.

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

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at him with narrowed eyes. "I can't believe you bought it without even seeing it in person

house you wanted. I

it."

in my chest. Warm and

bags. I mostly hover, pretending to be helpful.

on the floor

then it hits me, too hard,

vision flashes behind my eyes. A

the porch. A family. Our

it away, clutching my chest. Not now. I need to focus on the right now. That's all that

order takeout, Thai, and eat cross-legged on the floor with two lamps

music humming from Zaid's phone, and blankets spread out like a little camp

cozy. Simple. And then Zaid shifts, reaching for

have something for

lean toward him, frowning. What else could

me? He's already given

to me without a word. I look down. It's a leather-bound journal, smooth and new, blank pages waiting to be filled. I run my hands over the cover,