I awoke the following day with my heart aflutter in my chest, unconsciously clutching the ring that hung around my neck in my fist. I rolled out of bed, my hair a tangled mess, and held it up, idly rolling it between my fingers.
Luke…why did my heart leap at the thought of his face, of his smile? Whenever he drew near, I shied away, yet now, when we were distant, I yearned to see him. I'd read every page of the journal I'd found, spending hours poring over his handwriting, slowly working the words out. But it wasn't enough. I didn't know why, or what I really wanted or expected from him, just that it didn't leave me warm, tingly, and safe like being next to him did.
But did I really want to see him again? Even if my heart raced, I couldn't ignore the anxious twist in my stomach, or the thrill of unease whenever he'd brushed against me.
A knock at the door startled me. I squeaked, blushing as I realized I was still holding the ring, and let it fall back between my breasts.
