Chapter 146: Retelling a Love Story

The weight of the hefty text seemed heavier than it should have, and I gazed at it.  The pages contained our narrative, mine and Damon's, written down and kept for future generations to read.  It ought to have felt like a victory, a commemoration of everything that we had created and endured together. Instead, it seemed to be a loaded weapon pointed straight at our past.

Damon perched on the edge of my desk, arms crossed, gaze searching me for an answer I hadn't yet provided. "So?" He talked gently, but I could hear the tension in his voice. "Are you prepared to do this?"

I exhaled as I ran my hands over the leather-bound cover. A retelling of a romantic tale. The scenario was significantly more chaotic than the poetic title suggested.

I replied, "I'm not sure," There's a lot here, Damon. The good, the terrible, and the painful. What if—

He straightened and stepped forward. "What if what?"

I raised my gaze to meet his. What if it changes how others see us? What if it changes how we see each other?

His face softened, and without hesitation he stretched for my hand, interlacing our fingers. "Nothing in that book could alter my opinion of you, Emma."

That's something I wish I could really believe.

I got the idea for the book from a publisher who had seen my worldwide performances and saw that there was a need for more than just my work all over the world. People were curious about my art's history and the emotions that inspired it. The only way to tell it is to tell the whole narrative, how we met, how we lost each other, and how we kept finding our way back.

But not all of our history was beautiful. Touching certain scars still causes pain.

A warm shudder went through me as Damon's fingertips slowly moved up my wrist.  "We've experienced this, Emma.  We made it through whatever was on those pages.  His tone became more personal and lowered.  "With each other."

I took a minute to shut my eyes and absorb the veracity of his statement.  He was correct.  Writing down the most difficult portions didn't make them any less real; we had already gone through them.

Doubt was still there, lurking in the background.

At last, I replied, "We ought to read it."  "With each other.  prior to allowing the rest of the world to enter.

Damon gave a nod.  "I agree."  "But there's something else we need to talk about," he said after he paused.

I felt tense.  I felt an unsettling pleasure as his voice sunk into something darker.

"What is it?"

He slid his phone across the desk after taking it out.  As soon as I saw the email on the computer, my stomach fell.

"Anonymous Tip: The Complete Story Isn't in the Book You're Writing."

As I read the message's body, I swallowed forcefully and felt my heart rate rise.

Make sure you are stating the truth if you really want to share your love story with the world.  You're not even aware that a chapter is missing yet.

My breath caught.  I felt my chest tighten as I glanced up at Damon.

"How on earth does that mean anything?"  I muttered.

He tightened his jaw.  "That is what we must ascertain."

With my heart pounding in my ears, I held onto the edge of my desk.  My thoughts raced, causing the words on the screen to blend together.

"There’s a chapter missing, and you don’t even know it yet."

As he read the email over my shoulder once again, Damon's face became serious and he put his hand on the back of my chair.  A tempest was brewing under the surface of his strained physique.

His voice clipped, "This is a threat."

"Or a caution," I whispered.

I took a deep breath and made myself think.  What kind of person would send this?  And what may be lacking from our narrative?  I had experienced every second of it, every happiness, every heartache.  For this love, I had bled.  How could I be unaware of something?

Damon touched the screen of his phone after pulling it back.  "I've located the email."

I turned to face him.  "You believe the sender genuinely wants us to track them down?"

His eyes blazed with resolve as he looked directly at me.  "If they didn't want us to begin digging, I doubt they would have sent it."

I felt cold.  The timing was just as important as the message.  The book had not yet been published.  That implied that someone was aware that we were composing it and that they thought our history was more complex than we even recognized.

I tightened my chest as I looked at the text.  “What if they’re right?”

Damon scowled.  "Emma—"

"What if something is absent?"  I cut you off.  "Is there something we have never asked before?"

He made a small line with his lips.  "We then discover what it is."

My heart hurt the way he said it—so sure, so definite.  Damon was this person.  He didn't flee from uncertainty.  Regardless of the threat, he faced it head-on.  And I was certain that he wouldn't allow us to be destroyed by whatever we discovered.

Nevertheless, I took up my pen and clicked it absently, my fingers shaking.  "Where should we begin?"

Damon looked at his phone when it rang.  "A proxy server was the source of the email.  Not a direct trace.

Frustrated, I let out a breath.  "Obviously."

"But it wasn't sent to my business address," he said.  My own one received it.  The one that only a select few possess.

I felt sick to my stomach.  That made things more manageable.

I got up and paced the office.  Someone who lives nearby enough to be aware of the book.  Someone who is familiar enough with the past to think that something is missing.

Damon's gaze wavered in recognition.  "It's not a long list."

No.  It wasn't.

The idea gave me the chills.

I combed my hair with my fingers.  "Should we go up against them?"

Damon tightened his jaw.  "Not just yet.  First, we must identify what we are searching for.

I gave a nod.  He was correct.  We couldn't enter this unprepared.

I opened the manuscript and turned back to my desk.  As my fingertips stroked the first page, my breath caught.  Our tale, exposed in ink.  I believed that I had given these pages my whole being.  I believed I had been completely honest.

What if, however, the truth was greater than ourselves?

Damon took a step forward and put his hand on my waist for support.  "Emma, we'll work it out."

I leaned into his touch and closed my eyes.  "I understand."

Before he straightened, his lips lightly touched the top of my head in a silent reassurance.

He said, "We begin with those who know us the best."  "And then we proceed."

I nodded after taking a long breath.  "Then let's locate the chapter that is missing."

As the words left my lips, my phone buzzed on the desk.  I took it up, anticipating another email, another anonymous message.

However, it wasn't.

A SMS message was sent.

from an unidentified number.

Examine the artwork.  There, you'll discover the solution.

My blood became cold as my fingers clenched around the phone.

Damon scowled.  "What is it?"

With my pulse racing, I gave him the phone.

As he read the message, his grip tightened and his eyes darkened.

Then he turned to face me.

He answered softly, "The painting."

We both knew which one it was.

The focal point of my last international show.  The one into whom I had put my heart.  The one that, when I painted it, had nearly seemed... haunted.

Abruptly, I had the most peculiar sensation.

That all along, the missing chapter had been lurking in plain sight.