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Back First Comes Love Save as PDF
Chapters (92)
  1. First
  2. Love Connection
  3. Zero
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. One Month Later
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Six Months Later
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-one
  27. Twenty-two
  28. Twenty-three
  29. Twenty-four
  30. Six Months Later
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. I Have Never
  41. One
  42. Two
  43. Three
  44. Four
  45. Five
  46. Six
  47. Seven
  48. Eight
  49. Nine
  50. Ten
  51. Eleven
  52. Twelve
  53. Thirteen
  54. Fourteen
  55. Fifteen
  56. Sixteen
  57. Seventeen
  58. Eighteen
  59. Nineteen
  60. Twenty
  61. Twenty-one
  62. Twenty-two
  63. A Christmas Date
  64. One
  65. Two
  66. Three
  67. Four
  68. Five
  69. Six
  70. Seven
  71. Eight
  72. Nine
  73. Ten
  74. Eleven
  75. Twelve
  76. Thirteen
  77. Fourteen
  78. Fifteen
  79. Sixteen
  80. Seventeen
  81. Eighteen
  82. Nineteen
  83. Twenty
  84. Twenty-one
  85. Twenty-two
  86. Note from the Author
  87. Sneak Peek – To the Stars and Back
  88. Two
  89. Three
  90. Four
  91. Also by Camilla Isley
  92. About the Author

Next, a ton of photos. I leaf through them, scattering them on the floor. There’s everything: proms, graduations, concerts, vacations, everyday life. One, in particular, catches my eye. It’s my favorite picture of Jake. I took it the first night we made love. We were at his parents’ cabin at the lake. It’s a shot of him from the chest up. The photo’s a bit dark because Jake had the sun behind him, but his face is still visible. He’s shirtless and has one arm raised above his head, braced on a tree branch. He’s wearing a surfer necklace, a present from me for his birthday, which he thought was super cool. He never took it off all that summer. His face is tilted to the right, and he’s smiling a crooked smile. I’m not sure why I love this picture so much, but it’s… it’s just Jake. My Jake. He wasn’t posing or anything; he’d just looked up at me calling him when I shot this and it’s as if his face is lit with love, happiness, and youth. I drop the picture back on the pile on the floor, staring at it, still overwhelmed. That’s when I start sobbing. Tears blind me and rain down on the pictures. Out of rage and scorn, I collect the photos in my arms and throw them all in the fire.

Next, I pick up a stone in the shape of a heart. From a vacation somewhere. I hurl it at the bin.

Next, a sheet of paper where Jake copied the lyrics of I Want to Know What Love Is for me. Fire.

Next, a bunch of tickets: planes, movies, school dances, and concerts. Different years, different cities… still us. Fire.

A CD compilation Jake made me. We still used CDs, bless us. Bin.

A postcard of Hawaii. We promised we wouldn’t go there, not until we got married and we went on our honeymoon. Fire.

Seashells from a day at the beach. Bin.

A letter. I can’t open it. Jake sent it after we broke up, pouring his heart into it and begging me to take him back. I honestly don’t understand how I could not have replied. Why did I let him go? Why was I so damn proud and stupid? Why? Fire.

A page from my old diary. Despite my better judgment, I read this one.

Dear Diary,

For the first time in my life, I’m in love. How can I tell I’m in love for sure? Because Jake asked me to come watch his soccer practice and you know I hate soccer. It’s soooooo boring. But today instead of being bored out of my mind, I’m just happy. And soccer seems like the best thing in the world.