CHAPTER 59

1.5K 45 6
                                    

Christian's POV

I quickly shut the notebook, my mind struggling to process what the fuck I just read. I swear I wasn't trying to play detective. Today, for the first time in a long time, I actually didn't mind not lurking around for scraps. I actually felt kind of relieved to have that pressure lifted off my shoulders...like I can just exist for a moment.

But my relief is short lived, and the worn out composition notebook in my hands is to blame.

The worst part is, I didn't neccesarily find it.

It found me.

"What's the matter?" Elle questions, catching onto my drastic change in expression. I can't find the words to respond, so I just flip open the notebook's cover and beckon her to come close. She quickly finds a place beside me, and leans over to read.

I watch her eyes scan the page and it's not long before they widen in shock.

"Oh shit," she brings my exact thoughts to life. "Where did you find this!?"

"Over there!" I whisper-shout, motioning to the bookshelf. "It was under all of the photo albums."

A familiar chill creeps up my spine. Somewhere, buried deep down in the untouched places of my conscience, I feel like this is a sign. This notebook found me, because there's something in here that I'm supposed to see.

Or I'm just reaching, like I always do.

Either way, I'm far too involved to turn back.

"So what now?" Elle looks me in the eyes. "Are you gonna keep reading?"

I know the answer to that question. I know that she knows the answer to that question. Asking was clearly just a formality.

I nod, hesitantly.

"Is that a bad idea?"

Everything I've ever learned about Esme has been from someone else. I assumed that would alway be the case, considering she's gone. Only now, that's not the case. In my hands is a personal account from Esme herself, which to me, is fucking priceless. This is beyond me wanting to know what happened to her. This is just me wanting to know her.

"No." Elle shakes her head, before gently wrapping her arms around my torso. Her voice is soft, and supportive. "I think you should."

Her arms tighten around me.

"Not here, though. I'll tell my mom I'm not feeling well, and we can go back to my house and look through the notebook..." she pauses, and ever-so-gently plants her lips on mine, "together."

"Okay." I whisper against her lips, and kiss them tenderly once more, before she hands me her keys and tells me to wait in the car.

I have no idea what else awaits me inside of this journal, but as I said before...there's no turning back.

*****

"Were your parents mad at you for leaving?" I ask Elle, once we walk through her front door.

"My mom was kind of annoyed," she replies, dropping her bag and keys on the counter. "But I don't care. This is more important."

I watch as she removes her jacket, and places it on the back of a chair. She laps around the kitchen counter, and this is where I take the opportunity to catch her, and securely wrap my arms around her waist.

"I love you so much," I tell her, picking up her chin with my finger. "You know that right?"

I do love her. So much. So. Fucking. Much. My mind will never be able to process how one person can make up my entire earth, sun, moon and stars. But that's Elle. She's everything to me, and in moments like this, her unwavering support is priceless.

Our Deep End | ✔️Where stories live. Discover now