This is a story
of unspoken words and how loud they can be.
Unspoken Words, “a wonderful story of first love,
first heartbreak” from K.M. Golland is available now!
Connor Bourke and I met when we were
twelve years old. He was a quiet boy with so much to say and only one way to
say it—through song. He’d lost his best friend to cancer, so I showed him there
was love and life in loss, and to hold on to his memories, always.
Eloise Mitchell was a blazing fire
when my world turned dark. She’d shined so bright and burned so fierce that the
wall I’d built around myself simply melted to the ground at her feet.
We shared everything together:
Our first kiss,
first love,
first mistake,
and first regret.
She taught me to speak,
to forgive,
and to never forget.
Through his music, he could say all
he needed to say except for, ‘I love you’.
I could never tell her those three
words.
Yet, I knew he meant them, that he
loved me beyond all measure, beyond time
… beyond a broken heart.
I loved her more than anything.
Our bond was unbreakable.
Our love was ever after.
But, then, we tend to destroy the
ones we love most.
And all bonds break, especially when
the heart is what holds them together.
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Excerpt
“Eloise.” Connor’s hand shot out and clasped mine. “Don’t
leave.”
“Please let go. I can’t stay here right now. I need air.”
He didn’t quite chuckle but waved his hand at the space
around us instead. “There’s plenty of air.”
“Yeah,
but you’re stealing it,” I choked out, unable to hold back my tears. “You’re
always stealing my air.”
“What
are you talking about?”
“You!” I shrugged out of his clasp so that I could point
my trembling finger at him. “You breathe air into me and then you steal it, and
I’m left gasping. Why do you do that? Why can’t you just let me breathe with
you?”
Connor’s wide eyes searched mine, darting from side to
side like a ball in a pinball machine. He looked so lost and helpless, and
stupid, so I elaborated. “Every second we are together, I feel alive. Every
kiss, every touch, every unspoken word breathes life into me and I tether
myself to it, afraid to let go. But then you refuse to tell me how you truly
feel with the words you were given, words I know you can damn well say and
choose not to, and it sucks that air right back out of me, and I … I can’t
breathe.”
He
closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging.
“Why’s
it so hard for you to say?”
Connor didn’t respond. He just kept his eyes pressed shut,
as if I weren’t even there, and it ripped me in two.
“JUST SAY IT,” I shouted. “Just tell me you love me. I
know you do.”
“If you know I do then why do you need to hear it?”
“Because some words mean so much. Some words need to be
heard and spoken.”
“Not
those.”
“Of
course those. They’re the most important three words anyone can say.”
“No, baby, you’re wrong.” Connor opened his eyes, grasped
my arms, and pulled me to sit on his lap, securing me tightly, his finger
tracing a heart over my own. “My love for you goes beyond what words can say
and do, so yeah, I choose not to say them. Those three words are empty where
we’re concerned.”
I
sobbed. “But I need to hear them.”
“You don’t,” he whispered, pressing his palm over my heart
and placing my palm over his, the pressure firm, both of our hands unmoving.
“Do you feel that?”
A reverberating beat travelled through my body into his
and from his into mine, our pressed hands a bridge, one beginning where one
ended. We begin where we end.
What
I’d written in my notebook before we made love hit me like a truck, and I
jolted and gasped.
“What,
Eloise? What’s wrong?”
“I
get it.”
“Get
what?”
“I get that you don’t want to say what you feel or that
some words to you are empty. I get that, deep down, we don’t need words to
prove our love, that what’s in here,” I said, massaging my fingers into his
chest, “and here,” I added, twitching my other hand over my breast, “speak for
us.”
A
small smile crept across his face.
“But,” I continued, “words mean a lot to me. You know
that. They’re not empty where I’m concerned. They could never be empty.”
He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “If you
want words so desperately, I’ll give you words. But they’ll be my words. No one
else’s.”
“All
I’ve ever wanted was your words, Connor Burke.”
“Okay,”
he said, cupping my face. “You’re. My. Ever. After.”
A tear spilled down my cheek. They weren’t the words I’d
expected him to say and, yet, to him, they meant more. They meant always and
forever.
They
were perfect.
Sinking into his arms, I let Connor cradle me for what
felt like an eternity, and I realised in that moment that an eternity with him
would never be long enough, that always and forever was too short.
About K.M
Born
and raised in Melbourne, Australia, K.M. Golland is a best-selling author with
HarperCollins, and a ranty, married, mother of two who is quite happy to
support a very healthy high heel obsession. A lover of rabbits, doughnuts,
bridges, and cars, she traded her legal work for her love of writing and found
her dream career.
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