Chapter 2

 

 

Reed stepped into the hotel and came to a halt, torn between proceeding or walking out. The lobby was clean, the patterned carpet just a touch faded from the foot traffic, the wallpaper a neutral blue. Empty trays sat on the counter, the lights dimmed over the waffle station that seemed to have infiltrated all continental breakfasts.

Dressed in black and white, the woman at the counter looked up and smiled. “Checking in?”

“Just visiting a friend,” Reed said.

The woman’s eyes flicked to the lobby and Reed turned, spotting a girl rising from a chair. His breath caught as the figure from his past stepped into the light, the memories bursting across him in a swell of regret.

“Reed,” she said with a slight smile.

“Hello, Aura.”

She walked to him, her gait slow and measured, as if she was in pain. Tall and slender, she was nearly his height. Her blonde hair had been curled and reflected the light, enhancing the blue of her eyes.

Dressed in jeans and a white shirt, she looked just as beautiful as he remembered, right down to the slight smile, the one she’d always reserved for him. He walked to her and hugged her gently, like he would a sick child. The contact was warm and laced with memory, bringing a smile to his lips, and tears to his eyes.

“I’m not going to break,” she said.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, retreating.

“You won’t,” she said. “I couldn’t move very well when I woke up, but I’ve been doing physical therapy every day and it’s better now.”

“You look great,” he said.

She smiled tentatively. “Being asleep for three years does wonders for one’s skin.” Her eyes flicked to the woman at the counter.

Reed glanced over his shoulder to see the woman watching them curiously. “Do you want to go?” he asked, motioning to the door.

“Yes,” she said.

“Where are your parents?” he asked, glancing about as if he’d missed them.

“Upstairs,” she said, a flicker of irritation marring her flawless features. “They haven’t left my side in a month, but I insisted I get some time alone with you.”

He motioned toward the door. “Can you blame them? They thought you were dead.”

“I love them,” she said, a frown creasing her features. “But it’s starting to get a little stifling.”

For a moment they were quiet as they walked to his car. When they reached the decrepit Camry she ran her hand across the hood like it was an old dog. Noticing the affectionate look, he chuckled wryly.

“You never liked my car.”

“I do now,” she said. “And it’s good to know some things haven’t changed.”

“Three years is a long time,” he said.

“Not so long for me,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry,” he said hastily. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t,” she said. “You have nothing to apologize for. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here.”

Tears abruptly filled her eyes and she looked away. Not knowing what to say, he opened her door and motioned inside. “We have plenty of time to talk.”

“Are you sure Kate doesn’t mind?” she asked.

They stood so close that he could see deep into her eyes, and they betrayed a vulnerability he’d never seen before. Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded his head and she smiled before slipping into the car. Then he walked around to the driver’s side, taking his time in the hopes it would clear his mind.

At her request he drove her to the mall, and from there they walked through the nearly empty corridors. She paused often, asking questions about movie posters and electronics, all of which were new to her.

“I never thought about how much you missed,” he said, watching her examine a new iPhone.

“Three and a half years,” Aura murmured. “Everything feels different.”

“Is this the first time you’ve been out since you woke up?”

She nodded. “I still have to think about walking, and it’s like my legs don’t remember how. My parents didn’t want me to fall and get hurt.”

“I can’t believe you are walking at all,” he said.

She flashed a faint smile and touched his arm. “I had a good reason to.”

Stunned to silence, he watched her walk to a bank of iPads and marvel at their settings. When she tired of the electronics they left and continued to wander around the mall. They stopped by the bookstore and she bombarded him with questions about new releases and new books.

“You’ve missed a lot of good movies,” he said.

“Like what?”

He tried to recall some and started with the Marvel movies, before talking about the Star Trek reboot and a handful of others. She listened in rapt attention, soaking in everything she’d missed like a starving man would a Christmas feast.

They visited a clothing store next and she browsed for tops. “I’m skinnier than I was,” she said. “It’s weird to wake up and find out that none of your clothes fit.”

“I don’t think a three-year coma is the preferred weight loss method,” he said.

She smiled and shook her head. “Certainly not the top choice.”

“What was it like finding out how long you’d been asleep?”

She paused in front of a rack of jeans. “You know those dreams when you go to class and suddenly realize you’re naked?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“It’s like that,” she said. “Except it’s real. And it doesn’t end.”

He grimaced. “Sounds awful.”

“They told me two days after I woke up.”

“They waited two days?” he asked. “Why?”

“The doctors weren’t sure if I was going to slip back into a coma, so they didn’t want to cause me stress.”

“So for two days you thought that the accident was recent?”

“It felt like a week had passed,” she said.

Reed suddenly realized the weight behind her looks. To her, the accident had been just a month ago, meaning everything was still recent and vivid, undimmed by time. Their date—where he’d all but said he loved her—would be just a few months ago.

“So how do you feel about Tim?” he asked.

She laughed, the sound tinged with admiration and relief. “You know, everyone else has been so careful with what they say, like they’re scared I’m going to go nuts. But you and I always had a relationship where we held nothing back.”

“They’re just worried about you,” he said.

“I’m just tired of being treated like I’m made of glass,” she said. “They’re always changing the subject, always talking over me, never telling me the truth.”

“Like about Tim?”

“He should have died in the accident,” she said.

The unexpected vehemence in her voice caused several nearby to glance their way, their expressions uncertain. Aura didn’t notice. Her features twisted in anger, she clenched and unclenched her hands.

“He took years of my life,” she said, her voice soft yet dangerous. “And I’m just . . . angry.”

“You aren’t the only one,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow at the sudden heat to his voice, and he realized his hands had turned into fists. He stepped away to examine a shirt but the anger roiled inside, threatening to burst. Its sheer power surprised him, but Aura didn’t force the issue. After a few moments he sighed and turned back.

“Want to get some ice cream?”

He met her gaze, the anger in her blue eyes fading to amusement. “How do you do that?”

“Invite you for dessert?” He feigned puzzlement. “Like this. ‘Want some ice cream?’”

She laughed and consented. They left the store behind and stopped in the ice cream shop next door. Once they had settled into a booth, she stirred the treat with a spoon and watched the colors melt off the plastic. She’d gotten a waffle cone but had already given it to him, a smile and a wink reminding him of the habit when they were in high school.

“Things taste different than I remember,” she said.

“Like what?”

“I don’t like bread as much,” she said. “And spice isn’t as spicy.”

“You didn’t get your favorite,” he said, using his spoon to point to her choice, a raspberry sherbet.

“I don’t know what my favorite is anymore.”

They were silent for a moment and he studied her. She appeared relieved to be out and about, and content to merely explore with Reed, but he sensed a weight upon her that she wanted to share. He wanted to press her on it but was afraid to.

“How are things going with Kate?” she asked.

Taken aback, he said. “Good. Really good. How much do you know?”

“Quite a bit,” she admitted. “My parents showed me Ember’s blog in an attempt to keep me from coming.”

“They tried to stop you?”

“They thought you were happy,” she said. “And they didn’t want me to mess things up for you. They’ve always liked you.”

“Your dad didn’t like me after the accident,” he said.

She frowned, her forehead creasing in a touch of anger. “My mom told me what he said to you. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I thought I did,” he said.

“You’re dodging the question,” she said. “How are things with Kate?”

“Tonight’s taking the place of one of our challenge dates, actually.”

She winced. “I’m sorry about that. I really wanted to see you and tonight was the only night I could be in Boulder.”

“I see her every day, now,” Reed said.

“When you arrived at the hotel I didn’t think you’d changed. Now I can see you have. Is it all from Kate?”

He considered telling the truth, that he’d changed because of her accident. Then Kate had finished the job, helping him heal from a wound that had remained open since the moment he’d listened to Aura’s deathly scream.

“And because of you,” he finally admitted.