Seven Years of Love Seven Minutes of Truth novel Chapter 122

Chapter 12 

Atlas took the tablet from his assistant, his fingers tightening around the edges as the screen flickered to life. 

Even through the digital display, my presence struck him like a tidal wave. 

His pulse pounded as he scrolled through the images I had taken–breathtaking landscapes, golden sunrises, endless oceans stretching far beyond the horizon. 

Every shot was a masterpiece. Not just in composition, not just in color, but in something deeper. 

Each frame held freedom. 

Atlas stared at a particular photo–one of a cliff’s edge, the world vast and infinite beyond it. 

For a long moment, he didn’t speak. 

He didn’t know if he was remembering the promise he once made–to take me around the world. Or if he was 

realizing just how far I had already gone without him. 

His throat tightened. “Book me the next flight to A–Country,” he ordered, his voice clipped, urgent. “And keep tracking her location. I want updates every hour.” 

Atlas arrived at the hotel where I was. He stood outside the door, his hand raised, fingers curled into a hesitant fist. 

He couldn’t knock. His entire body was rigid, every breath he took uneven. 

In the end, he didn’t knock. He sank onto the floor outside the door, resting his back against the cold wood. 

And he waited through the night, through the long hours of silence, his thoughts a chaotic storm. 

When morning came, the sound of footsteps broke his trance. 

A hotel staff member had come to clean the room. 

Atlas lifted his head, his muscles stiff from staying in the same position for too long. 

“She’s already gone,” the housekeeper said casually, unlocking the door. “Left early this morning. Didn’t check out, though.” 

Atlas felt as though someone had dumped ice water over his chest. 

He pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly, his exhaustion finally catching up to him. 

The address his assistant provided led him to a public park. 

He sprinted through the streets, his heart hammering, his breath ragged. 

He had to find me. If he was just a second too late–if I disappeared from his sight again–he didn’t know if he’d ever 

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Seven Years of Love, Seven Minutes fr 

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Chapter 12 

see me again. 

Then–his footsteps faltered. 

By the fountain. I stood with her back to him, sunlight dancing off the lens of my camera as I reached up to feed the 

pigeons. 

I laughed softly as a bird flapped too close, my face tilting toward the sky. 

And for a moment, Atlas forgot how to breathe. Happier than he had seen me in years. 

I spun lightly with the birds, my hair catching in the breeze, my smile so bright it was almost painful to look at. 

It was the kind of smile I had never worn when I was with him. 

Atlas felt something in his chest tighten and twist, an ache deep in his ribs.