Seven Years of Love Seven Minutes of Truth

Chapter 12

Atlas took the tablet from his assistant, his fingers tightening around the edges as the screen flickered to life.

Even through the digital display, my presence struck him like a tidal wave.

His pulse pounded as he scrolled through the images I had taken–breathtaking landscapes, golden sunrises, endless oceans stretching far beyond the horizon.

Every shot was a masterpiece. Not just in composition, not just in color, but in something deeper.

Each frame held freedom.

Atlas stared at a particular photo–one of a cliff’s edge, the world vast and infinite beyond it.

For a long moment, he didn’t speak.

He didn’t know if he was remembering the promise he once made–to take me around the world. Or if he was

realizing just how far I had already gone without him.

His throat tightened. “Book me the next flight to A–Country,” he ordered, his voice clipped, urgent. “And keep tracking her location. I want updates every hour.”

Atlas arrived at the hotel where I was. He stood outside the door, his hand raised, fingers curled into a hesitant fist.

He couldn’t knock. His entire body was rigid, every breath he took uneven.

he didn’t knock. He sank onto the floor outside the door, resting his back against

through the long hours of silence, his thoughts a

the sound of footsteps broke his

hotel staff member had come to

lifted his head, his muscles stiff from staying in the same position for too long.

said casually, unlocking the door. “Left early

had dumped ice water over his chest.

slightly, his exhaustion

led him to a

sprinted through the streets, his heart hammering,

to find me. If he was just a second too late–if I disappeared from

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of Love, Seven Minutes fr

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Chapter 12

see me again.

Then–his footsteps faltered.

off the

pigeons.

laughed softly as a bird flapped too close, my face

for a moment, Atlas forgot how to breathe. Happier than he had

birds, my hair catching in the breeze, my

smile I had never worn