My Wedding Photos Belonged To His First Love Chapter 09

My Wedding Photos Belonged To His First Love Chapter 09

Derek resigned as CEO of the Sullivan Group.

The day that news hit trending, I was taking graduation photos for a young woman.

She was so nervous she didn’t know what to do with her hands.

I said, “Don’t look at the lens. Look out the window.”

She did. The sunlight hit her face. It was beautiful.

Afterwards, she asked, “Miss, did you used to do wedding photography? I saw your copyright

statement online.”

I smiled. “Something like that.”

She said quietly, “You’re seriously cool.”

I paused.

For a long time, no one had ever described me that way.

Around Derek, the words I heard most were sensible, considerate, suitable for marriage.

Cool was too free a word.

I sent her the retouched images.

After she left, Derek came in.

He was holding an envelope. He looked even thinner than before.

“This is the last one,” he said. “The project share from Sullivan Group. The lawyers confirmed it.”

I took it. “Thank you.”

He didn’t move.

I looked up. “Is there something else?”

He pulled a roll of negatives from his pocket.

“I found it in an old album.”

I took it and looked. It was the negative from that rooftop photo three years ago. The first time I ever took his picture. The first time I thought I had walked into his heart.

Derek said, “I used to think that once a photo was taken, it would just stay there and wouldn’t get

lost.”

“Later I learned that negatives can decay, and people can leave.”

I didn’t respond.

He asked quietly, “Nora, if I started over-from the beginning, courtship and all-would it still be too late?”

The shop was very quiet.

In the back, George was developing prints. The water ran and ran.

I looked at the roll of negatives.

After a long time, I said, “Derek, I’m not the one you want.

His face went pale. “You want the Nora who used to wait around for you. The one who’d forgive you and bury every last bit of pain just to keep the peace.”

“She’s gone.”

His eyes rimmed red. “I know.”

I shook my head. “You don’t. You just can’t accept that she’s gone.”

Derek stood there, his fingers loosening.

In the end, he didn’t beg me again.

He just said quietly, “Do you want this negative, then?”

I said, “No.”

He froze.

I pushed the negative back toward him. “Keep it. A reminder of what you once let slip away.”

When Derek left, a light snow was falling.

Winter came early in Northport.

He paused at the door and looked back. “Nora, I took a lot of photos of you after you

I watched him.

“But in not a single one are you looking at me,” he said.

I didn’t speak.

left.”

He smiled faintly. “Turns out you stopped looking at me a long time ago.”

The rolling shutter came down slowly.

The snow stayed outside.

I heard George calling from the back. “Nora, the red light in the darkroom is busted. Come give me

a hand!”

I called back, “Coming.”

When I turned, the camera lens on the counter was facing the window.

In the glass, I saw my own reflection.

Calm. Clear.

With no one else’s shadow clinging to it.