One Last Breath by Sarah Sutton (speld decodable readers txt) 📗

at that thought, another one came crashing down. The deep-set, dark brown eyes. The look of terror—it felt as if she had looked into them before. And then it occurred to her: they were identical to her father’s.

Tara stared out into the street as she pieced each thought together, trying to make sense of it. Am I just searching for a connection? she wondered, but as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t true. The resemblance was all too real, and it could only mean one thing: they were related.

Chapter Thirty Four

Tara and John walked along the path of Jones Point Park, his arm wrapped around her waist. Tara had arrived back in Washington, D.C., earlier that day, and John had insisted that they go out to dinner that evening and for a short walk before. He said she needed it, and Tara couldn’t resist. She knew she owed it to John. He wanted so badly to spend time with her, and he was right; she needed it too.

She had already told John what had happened that day when she met Mackenzie, and he had agreed that the whole scenario seemed odd.

“You sure she looked like your dad?”

“It was an uncanny resemblance,” she replied with a nod of certainty. “I just don’t get it. If she’s related, who would she be?” Tara had already tried to connect the dots as best she could. Her father only had one sister, but Tara knew she had passed away, and Mackenzie most certainly was not the same person. “Maybe a cousin?” she questioned, but at the thought, she knew it would be unlikely for them to have the same eyes unless they were immediate family. And then another thought surfaced—one that had been reoccurring––but she kept swatting away. Could her father have had another daughter? The thought sent a chill down her spine. Mackenzie was nineteen years older than Tara and twenty years younger than her father. It was certainly possible, but Tara buried the thought. “I don’t know,” she finally sighed. John kissed her cheek as a warm breeze flowed, making the coolness of his kiss linger as he pulled away.

“You will find answers,” he told her. “You always do.”

Tara looked out onto the water that glistened under the setting sun. She knew there was no more to say. She would have to keep looking, keep searching. There were answers out there. She just had to find them. She felt John’s hand pull away from her waist and then inch into her hand until he clasped it tightly. He gave it a gentle squeeze.

“But I think you need to let go sometimes, even if it’s just for a moment or a day. You owe it to yourself to clear your head,” he added.

Tara nodded. He was right. She owed it to herself to relax. And she owed it to John. Her mind had been spinning in full gear for as long as she could remember now, and she couldn’t recall the last time she actually enjoyed a walk or a dinner. “You’re right,” she said with a smile. “Let’s just enjoy this.”

He gave her hand another squeeze as they continued their walk. Tara watched runners go by, people on roller blades, an older woman feeding the seagulls, and it occurred to her how much she always missed from not being in the moment and how much there was to see. She stared out onto the water, marveling at the beauty of it all, at the clouds bursting with fragmented light, at the water shimmering.

She felt another pull on her hand as John slowed to a halt, and she turned around to face him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, but then she stopped herself from asking more. The sky danced in his eyes, his smile beamed from ear to ear, and she knew nothing was wrong at all.

“Tara, I love you with all my heart,” he began. His eyes were filled with emotion, and Tara didn’t quite understand why he was telling her this all of a sudden.

“I love you too, John,” she replied.

 “We’ve both grown so much, and I truly think it’s because we have each other to lean on. We make each other better, don’t you think?”

Tara nodded. It certainly was true. Part of the strength she had in coming to terms with her past was because John supported her and encouraged it. He had also always been there each time Tara doubted her abilities as an agent, cheering her on, never once giving her reason to feel discouraged. And it was with Tara’s encouragement that John had gotten back into music.

John suddenly bent down on one knee, still holding Tara’s hand as her heart fluttered. “I’ve been waiting a long time to find the right moment.” He chuckled. “It hasn’t been easy.”

She knew what he was about to ask, and it all suddenly made sense—why he was growing frustrated that it was so hard to spend time with her, why his mother was acting odd at dinner that one night, why she was so nosey about Tara’s sudden trip to New York. With the case and her personal issues with her father contently at the forefront of her mind, she had almost forgotten that she had sensed this all along.

He let go of Tara’s hand, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a little black box. Tara’s eyes widened as he pulled it open. Inside, a large single diamond caught the sun and shimmered.

“John,” Tara gasped.

“Will you marry me, Tara Mills?” He looked more handsome than ever, the remaining bits of sunlight captured in his blonde hair.

“Yes,” she gasped.

A huge smile formed on his face at her words. He pulled out the diamond ring and slipped it onto Tara’s finger. But her eyes stayed focused on him. She grabbed him by the hand, pulling him up onto his feet, and wrapped her arms around his waist. His folding around her—his embrace feeling safer than it ever had. He was hers.