Free The Admirer's Secret by Pamela Crane Page B

suspicions that she wanted a different lifestyle than what Westfield could offer, and the wedding was postponed, per her request. But Marc kept planning their future together, unaware that what had started as physical distance was growing into emotional separation.  
    His jaw clenched at the recollection.
    While they had maintained a semblance of a relationship, the ex decided it was time to see other people… without Marc’s knowledge. His surprise visit to Buffalo caught her out to dinner with another man: their accountant. Never would he forget what he saw. Back then Marc’s heart was torn to shreds as he watched her from outside the frosted window laughing and holding Mr. Bald-chubby-and-wealthy’s hand. Marc’s pride was emasculated as he remembered seeing his own warm breath on the cold pane until it eventually clouded his view, and he turned away, never to look back. It was all he needed to solidify his decision. He never called her from that moment on, and she apparently didn’t miss a beat, for his phone never rang with an apology or a good-bye.
    Marc settled with the realization that both of them had changed. Or maybe neither of us had ever changed. He wasn’t the ambitious city type he pretended to be, and she would never be the down-to-earth sweetheart he wanted. It was all a farce, and only time and a single night of betrayal revealed the relationship for what it was. But it didn’t matter now. He was moving on.
    He had refused divine direction when he first pursued Ms. Wrong, and eventually something had to give: trusting his heart ’s intuition or blind love. Luckily my heart won out, though by force , Marc realized. Sure, it hurt to let her go, but somehow he made it through day by day, and now he was standing in this very moment enjoying winter’s frosty beauty from his back porch allowing Lady Love back into his life. She had a funny way of sneaking up on him. He just hoped he was ready for her. 
    Wind nipped at his cheeks, and he felt his fingers start to tingle. He would happily endure any cold just to be with her right now. He imagined her standing next to him, taking in the view of the majestic blue beauty in his backyard. Though it was technically a lake, the average human eye couldn’t see the other side—only with the help of binoculars. Marc captured the most grandiose sunsets from his back porch; deep reds and oranges splattered off the water to create an expanse of never-ending color.
    He’d never gotten used to the breathtaking sight. Its splendor seemed to change daily. Yesterday the water reflected a gray-blue, but today it appeared a little brighter. His father always told him that the lake was as inconsistent as the wind. No two days on the lake were alike. His father was right. In the deepest, coldest part of winter, when lapping waves froze over, even then it would transform overnight, as if completely recreated.
    Sun sliced through tree branches, resting on Marc’s flushed face. He closed his eyes and embraced the concentrated heat that contrasted against the bitter air. And then he pictured her with the sun silhouetting her face. Their chance meeting hung over him the past few days, and he recalled her laugh to the forefront of his thoughts. He had no idea when he’d see her again, but something told him it would be soon. 
    “I hope this works out,” he whispered in a raspy morning voice. Even today, a chilly Friday morning in the depths of winter, he took in every second of his wonder and held it close, as if it would flutter away in an instant, as precious moments often did.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter 12
     
    Entry 6941
    Can’t talk long. Gotta shower before work. Woke up late again. Another restless night. I got another letter yesterday—that makes three this week. Every moment of every day he’s there, in the innards of my mind, luring me to discover him. Relentless. Do you think it’s coincidence that it points to Marc? The day I first met Marc the letters