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When my ship was sinking, I met him and clung to him through the storm. Little did I know he needed me as much as I needed him. The first time I saw Roman Dante King, he stood out like an odd puzzle piece mixed up in the wrong box. It wasn't his blue eyes in the dim light of the bar, the tattoos covering his arms and hands, or even his arrogant personality. There was something else—something I couldn't see—that told me he didn't belong in our small beach town on the Oregon coast.
Elora Mazie Barlow reminded me of a hummingbird, zipping from one flower to another, never stopping, never allowing more than a glimpse before she was gone. Never letting anyone in... until me. Then she gave me her smiles, more valuable than anything I ever owned, and wrapped me in her peace without asking for anything in return. Her tragic story sounded achingly familiar to my own.
Our connection is knotted up in loss. The journey we're on together will eventually come to an end. But will we be able to untangle the mess of strings that have tied us together? Will we even want to?
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