Chapter 20 #3
We pull up in front of the property, and with its turrets, it reminds me of the castle in the window of Willow and Worn, only in this case “worn” is the key word.
But that just makes it more fascinating.
The stone turrets, their surfaces softened with lichen, rise above the house.
Broken stained glass windows are positioned on either side of a huge wooden door that hangs slightly crooked.
Vines climb the stone walls, and the roof sags in places, exposing the beams beneath.
Moss carpets the steps. Some people might turn their noses up at how ancient and crumbling it is, but I fall for it instantly.
It feels like an abandoned place with stories to tell.
“This place is incredible,” I say, stepping out of the car and turning to take everything in.
“I knew you’d love it here,” Zach says, his eyes twinkling, clearly proud of himself.
“This is the place from the musical instrument shoot. I’ll show you where I took my photos.
” We walk across the flagstone courtyard, weeds sprouting between the stones.
He holds my hand as we walk through the overgrown grass toward a stone arch, covered in ivy.
“This is where I photographed the two violinists,” Zach says.
“They’re a real-life couple. They stood over there, playing their violins in the shadows, and the sun came through behind them. ”
I close my eyes for a moment. “I can picture that exact shot in my head.”
“Come with me inside the house, I’ll show you where we took some other shots,” Zach says.
We push open the huge door and step into the damp-smelling foyer.
Faded tapestries decorate the walls and there’s a chandelier, its crystals dulled with dust, tilting precariously.
Shafts of light shine in through the cracked roof.
We step into a vast empty space, large enough to hold a banquet, probably the location of any number of fancy parties in the past. Zach points to the center of the room.
“That’s where we wheeled in the grand piano.
We had a man wearing an old-fashioned suit and top hat playing there.
There’s something about having him here, and not in a new building, that makes the campaign seem that much more special. ”
“It emphasizes the way music is timeless.”
“I like that.” Zach’s face creases in appreciation, and then he smiles.
“I have something else to show you.” He takes my hand, and we go back to his car, where he takes a wicker picnic basket out of his trunk and leads me to a patch of grass under a sycamore tree.
He opens the basket and spreads out a blanket.
He takes out a little cooler bag and spreads out some crackers and fruit and pours us each a glass of sparkling wine.
“When I was here, I thought this place would be perfect for a picnic. What do you think?”
“I think it’s amazing,” I say.
We have an effortless conversation about our families, our childhoods, our goals.
“I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a very long time,” Zach says, glancing at me.
“My last relationship ended about a year ago. We got along well but our interests were very different. I love that we can sit together, doing anything, and still feel so connected.”
“I love that about us too,” I answer. The fact that he just brought up his last relationship has my heart thumping in my throat. This would be the perfect time to tell him about Jayden.
“Why did your last relationship end?” Zach asks, apparently reading my mind again.
I pick at the wicker basket and stare down at the picnic blanket.
“We were together for a long time, and we fell into a routine.” I want to keep going.
I want to say that it ended recently, but I have a feeling that would change what we have building between us and I don’t want to risk that. I can’t risk that.
“The same kind of date night over and over again? Stuff like that?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “Exactly like that. We fell into a rut, and it just didn’t feel exciting anymore.”
“Do you get bored easily?”
“No,” I answer honestly and take a sip of my wine.
“I don’t really think I get bored often.
Maybe it was more like we grew apart.” Is the reason why Jayden and I ended a red flag to Zach?
Maybe I should tell him how long we were together.
People grow apart and after nine and a half years, I wanted to be a different version of myself.
“I have one more thing to show you before we leave.” Zach stands and gives me a hand to help me to my feet.
He guides me behind the building toward a pond.
“It seems like you feel inspired when you’re close to water,” he says.
“I thought I’d show you this area and see if you feel like writing anything. ”
My heart’s fluttering against my ribs. It’s a simple gesture, but it means more than I can put into words. Zach’s here, supporting my hobby, thinking of me.
Zach takes a notebook and pen out of the picnic basket and offers them to me. “Do you want to have a few minutes?” he asks.
After a moment, I nod. “That would be nice. Thanks.”
Zach lays the picnic blanket down by the edge of the pond and I sit there, staring across the water with the pen in my hand and notebook spread open on my lap.
After a few minutes, the ideas start to swarm around in my mind, and I can’t get them down on paper fast enough.
Later, as Zach drives us home, I make sure to take extra-long breaths and truly enjoy how at ease I feel because I’m sure that’s all about to change. Gia’s wedding is Saturday and I need to prepare myself to be swept up in the day, which is guaranteed to be full of excitement—one kind or another.