Read Online Speak (The Voice trilogy Book 2) by Noelle Bodhaine - Free Book Online Page B

always encouraged. She said the heat from the flame would drive away the cold and when the flame dies, representing its last breath as fire, it would consume the heartache and leave you whole. I haven’t lit a candle for my parents in a very long time.
                  We head back towards the car with our take from the market and the candle for an altar I no longer maintained. Would my mother be disappointed?
                  After a quiet drive, I unpack and clean the veggies and fruit we picked up. I turn on some music and start to whirl around the kitchen. My ritual when I’m feeling low. Music and cooking almost always do the trick, distracting me from whatever is weighing heavily on my heart. I cannot get Roseanna out of my mind. In the last year I have really tried to dig myself from this hole of despair, to rid myself of the bad and focus on being whole again. It all started with kicking Collin to the curb. Granted, it took a couple of times for it to stick, but it did. But in the process, I shut myself away, avoided everyone who could make me feel sad or reminiscent. I have avoided Roseanna and she knows it.
                  I start washing tomatoes and peeling onions, losing myself in the process, barely aware that Rhys disappeared almost the moment we walked through the door. I toss the tomatoes and onions on a sheet pan and slide them into the oven to roast and grab an avocado.
                  “What are you making?” He winds his arm around my waist, catching me by surprise. I jump slightly in his arms and then settle into the warm comfort of his rock hard chest.
                  “Just some snacks for us. I thought I would make some salsa and guacamole and we can grill, how does that sound?”
                  “Sounds perfect,” he purrs against my ear, sending a shiver licking down my spine. He spins me around and in his hand is my old altar. A small carved platform with raised reliefs of the female forms in various goddess poses. It is covered with colorful drips from numerous candles, hard wax dripping down the sides. A fine layer of dust coats the whole thing as it has been sitting in the bottom of my closet for longer than I care to admit.
                  “Where did you find that?” I bite my lip and fight the sob that sits high in my throat. Looking at it brings back so many memories, but most of all it makes me feel guilty, guilty for sticking it in the bottom of the closet, guilty for not carrying on what I used to share with my mom, guilty for not honoring her and myself. I stand stock still, watching him hold a piece of my mother’s memory in his hands.
                  “I found it in your closet,” his voice is soft and unsure. I snatch it from his hand like a little child and cradle it in my arms.
                  “You have a real issue with boundaries!” I snap, angry that he has snooped. “You cannot just change people’s locks, break into their house and go through their closets.” He balks at my reaction and takes a step back. In a silent standoff, I watch his face, the tick at the corner of his mouth, the way he pulls his lips through his teeth, anxious and unsure of his response. Taking a deep breath, my shoulders fall and my body bows under the weight of my growing guilt.
                  “I am sorry if I upset you, Sophie. I didn’t mean to.” He watches me and waits. My heart is pounding a tattoo against my chest. “Are you really angry with me?” I have never heard Rhys’ voice sound so unsure, so remorseful. Every cell in my body is eclipsed by a feeling of sadness that I try to cover with anger, but it isn’t working. I shake my head, but cannot find my tongue.  Large tears form in my eyes, the kind that don’t immediately fall, but well-up and slowly steal your sight. A breath hitches in my throat and a heavy tear falls to my cheek, opening the