Forgetting August (Lost & Found) by J. L. Berg Read Free Book Online

I went, spinning in circles, laughing as he captured my lips with his own.
    “We can afford anything we want now,” he whispered. “I promised I’d always take care of you—give you everything you desired.”
    “All I ever wanted was you,” I answered softly.
    A cocky grin tugged at the corner of his lip. “Now you have both.”
    *  *  *
    Slowly, I walked up the flowered pathway, grateful for the landscaping service that kept up the vast outdoor maintenance required of the property. It meant I never had to feel guilty that this magnificent house had fallen into disrepair because of me. Because of us.
    It still looked as beautiful as the day I first saw it. The sprawling driveway gave way to a beautiful garden and entryway. The color of the flowers had changed since I’d last been here, but it all still felt the same. At first glance, you’d never know no one had lived in it for years. Yet as I grew closer and peered in the windows, I could see the white sheets scattered throughout the first floor, covering and protecting the expensive furniture we’d spent months picking out. The house resembled the Spanish architectural style California was known for, with rounded windows and doors that reminded me of field trips to old missions along the El Camino Real, and an ornate red-tiled roof that gave it character and charm. The multi-million dollar view of the Pacific didn’t hurt either. That view was what made this area of the city so sought after. The waves crashed below as the sun set over the crystal blue water. Each and every day. It had been a life most people only dreamed of living, and one I’d run away from long ago.
    My hand shook as I held the key up to the lock in the large wooden door, and as its first tooth locked into place, I stopped and took a hesitant step back. The key fell from my fingers, clattering onto the stoop, and I fled, my heart pounding in spades. Quickly unlatching the gate to the backyard, I ran. I ran until my lungs burned and my cheeks reddened from the gusts of wind rushing over the jagged cliffs. The house faded into the background as I stood there and let the roar of the ocean drown out my thoughts and memories, pushing back the sobs that were threatening to force their way out.
    I would not cry over this man.
    Not again—not ever again.
    And I would not allow his presence to ruin my life.
    *  *  *
    “This weeks of not seeing each other thing? It has to stop—you’re my best friend and I feel like I barely know you. It’s been ages…ages, woman! So, come on with the details. Tell me, how are you?” Sarah asked, her words all strung together like the chaotic strand of pearls she wore wrapped around her neck. Every color imaginable, without rhyme or reason. That was Sarah. A hurricane wrapped in pink ballet tights.
    We settled into the cozy corner booth at the local coffee shop I’d been working at for the past two years. I unwrapped my apron, which resembled a large burlap sack, and sank into the cushions a few more inches. My feet hurt from standing all day and sitting felt like the most amazing luxury in the world.
    “It hasn’t been ages. Stop being so damned dramatic. And I’m fine,” I said, waving her off as I stretched my aching back.
    Her critical brown eyes searched mine. “If I had a dollar for every time you said the word ‘fine,’” she said, raising her eyebrow in challenge. I ran my tired hands down the front of my plain white shirt, a stark contrast to the vibrant flowery dress she was wearing. Sarah’s personal taste was a tad diverse. Having formerly been a perfect ballerina the majority of her life, dressing in whatever she was told to wear from frilly tutus to sparkling tiaras, she now tended to steer clear of anything that had crinoline or lace and hovered closer to the outlandish.
    “I know. Tabitha would have my head if she heard it, too. She hates the word ‘fine.’ She says people use it far too often and it generally means the