Look through my eyes

Chapter 26

I look at the address on my cell phone before putting it away. I see the bookshelves at the back of the small coffee shop; the yellow light of the place makes everything look warmer, more welcoming. I walk in; a small bell welcomes me. I smile at the girl at the front desk, approaching the front table, where several of the author's books are being sold. I grab one, pulling out my card to buy one.

The girl thanked me, handing me a receipt at the end of my purchase.

She points me to the small library at the end of the coffee shop, where the event will be held.

I open the book, curious as I read the author's biography.

I freeze at the sight of the photograph.

It was as if the noise of the world had disappeared. As if the air did not exist.

My hands begin to tremble.

A male voice is heard over the small speakers in the place. Slowly, I look up from the book, looking at the improvised stage.

I feel a hand touch my back, placing itself on my waist.

It's not until I feel Ian's kiss on my cheek that I manage to see him.

The bubble bursts, startling me with the noise of people, background music and the movement of chairs.

The place hadn't felt so tiny seconds ago, but the amount of people in there is insane.

"Everything okay?" Ian looks at me with his brow slightly furrowed.

I smile at him as best I can, nodding. I open my mouth to say something to him, but the girl at the entrance points to one of the empty booths near a table with a candle.

We walk in silence, listening as, as I would believe, the owner of the café gives a few words before introducing the author, who laughs humbly at her side.

And I just sit there, watching as my grandfather announces his book, a book that has my mother's name on it.

The applause at the end of the interview startles me. Ian closes the book, which I hadn't even realized he'd bought, clapping too.

"Young." Ian's soft voice in my ear makes me look at him.

He's still frowning, concern traveling through his face.

People start to stand up, so I do the same.

The book I bought and had left on my lap falls off, but I don't care; I need to get out of the damn coffee shop.

I open my mouth as I feel the cold night. I open my mouth and try to breathe.

I pull the turtleneck shirt away from my throat as best I can, desperate for air.

I manage to calm my breathing when Ian comes out of the cafeteria.

He had a ticket in his hand for the drink he ordered, as well as both books. He approaches me.

"Young?" My last name comes out as a question. I turn to look at him, smiling at him.

"Sorry, the story—that lady's story—moved me; I needed to get out of there if I didn't want to turn to tears." half-truths, half-lies. Like everything since I came to this damn town.

Ian holds out my book to me, opening it to the first page, where an autograph appears and a small message that I dare not read.

I grab the book, thanking him softly.

I swallowed thickly, squeezing the book so hard my knuckles turned white.

"Wait for me; I think I forgot something." Before Ian can answer me, I walk once more into the coffee shop, still crowded with people but far fewer.