Eight Years Lost A Love Unclaimed (Ariella) novel Chapter 45

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Against the white backdrop, I skillfully pulled out my palette and selected the

paints I

needed. With just a few strokes, I outlined the shape of a sunset.

“All done, Sienna! You’re such a great artist. If we didn’t have to put up photos, I’d

want you to paint the whole thing.”

I put away my brushes. “Photos?”

Jessica turned around. “Yeah, pictures of Ethan and me from the past five years.”

She started sticking the photos onto the backdrop. Jessica type of person

was the

who made friends easily, or maybe she just wanted to share her happiness with

everyone, so she kept talking about their past five years together.

“This one was taken right after Ethan got out of the hospital. He was so thin but

still

so tough. I saved him, and he worked for me to pay off his debt. Honestly, I was

the

first one to fall for him. I chased him for two years, and every time he turned me

dom, he gave me the same reason.”

Jessica scratched her head. “He said he’d forgotten something really important and

didn’t want to think about anything else until he found it.

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I suddenly remembered what he said when he proposed to me: “Sienna, there’s

something really important I need you to do, and only you can do it.”

“What is it?”

“Be my wife.”

Looking at the person in the photos, my throat tightened. “Did he ever find that

really important thing?”

Jessica shook her head. “No, he doesn’t remember anything. I helped him search

aimlessly for three years. Then, after we went through some tough times together,

he felt sorry for me being an old maid and decided to settle down with me.”

After a long silence, I heard myself say, “I guess it wasn’t that important after all.”

Jessica immediately disagreed, “No, it was really important to Ethan. He hates

hospitals, but he went through three years of treatment, rain or shine, just for that

thing.”

In the photo, Ethan Harris stood by the ocean, sunlight bathing him. He was

smiling

recklessly, freely, just like the Ethan I knew at eighteen–arrogant and full of

himself,

except when it came to the girl he loved.

I reached out and touched the photo. “Why go through all that? If he forgot,

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probably wasn’t that important.”

“Sienna, why don’t you sign your name first?”

The orange marker felt impossibly heavy in my hand, and I hesitated. “Never

mind,

my handwriting isn’t very pretty.”

The flowers for the wedding needed to be ordered in advance, and Ethan was busy

setting up for his wedding with Jessica. She dragged me along with her to run

errands. I wanted to refuse, but I also wanted to hear her talk about him over the

past five years.

The flower shop was in town, a small place with a lot of flowers. “Mr. Walker, I

need a

thousand red roses for the day after tomorrow.”

It seemed they were familiar, as the owner gave her an OK gesture. “I just got

some

fresh lilies in. Want to take a few?”

Jessica shook her head. “I like flowers with a strong scent and bold colors. Those

aren’t my type.”

The girl in front of me was just like a red rose–passionate and full of life, capable

of

healing anything, even a broken heart.

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As we left the flower shop, I bought two lilles, their orange petals emitting a faint,

sweet fragrance. We passed a fruit stand on the way, and Jessica crouched down

to

pick out some peaches. “Ethan loves peaches. Let’s get him a bunch.”

We grew up in a town where apples and pears were the most common fruits. I

had

no idea his favorite fruit was something as southern as peaches.

Except for his face, it felt like everything else about him was no longer my Ethan

Harris.

In the distance, the roar of a motorcycle grew louder as it sped recklessly through

the narrow alley, pursued by two police officers. The motorcycle quickly approached,

but the rider showed no intention of stopping. Just as Jessica was about to stand

up,

the motorcycle grazed her clothing.

I used all my strength to push her out of the way. The impact hit me instantly, pair

radiating through my body as I was thrown against the fruit stand. I tumbled to.

the

ground along with the scattered fruit. In that moment, all I could see was my

flower

being crushed underfoot.

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