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Logan lingers in the kitchen. “Maybe you should just go to bed, Riley,” he says.
“Can’t.” If I close my eyes, I’ll think about his words. My horrible life decisions.
Logan must conclude he’s not winning this argument, because he leaves.
I decide I’ll lock my window tonight.
8
I make my dinner after my family’s. Normally I prepare mine in advance so I can eat with them at the dining room table, but even though Logan’s anger is justified, I don’t want to see him. As they munch on the beef stroganoff and almond bacon green beans, I remain in the kitchen, combining my gluten-free ingredients, listening to them chat about their day. I don’t think a lot of families do this nowadays without a TV in front of them, so it makes mine feel special.
Yet I left them like they meant nothing to me.
“How about you, Riley?” Mom calls, stabbing a sliced almond and bringing it to her mouth. “Did you get any rest?”
Not really, since I was desperate to keep busy after Aaron’s departure. I could bring up the history club’s surprise appearance and my trip to the ice cream shop, but I don’t have the energy to get into details, so I merely say, “Yeah.”
“Good meal, by the way,” Dad tells me. “Your cooking is as good as we remember.”
The statement is another serrated knife to my wounded heart. “Sorry,” I breathe, so softly that they don’t hear it. When I retreat to my room that night, I turn on my space heater to warm my frigid hands and feet, then pull on a T-shirt and sweatpants and huddle up in bed with my laptop.
I eye the curtain draped over the bedroom window. I locked it earlier.
Logan is right. I wasn’t strong enough to battle Aaron’s manipulation the first time, so why do I think I have the strength to do it this time? I did, at the very least, find Aaron’s number to unblock it and tell him the plan is off. Then I immediately blocked him again.
When midnight passes, I think I’m in the clear.
But then it starts.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
My heart staggers over its beat. I roll out of bed, then storm to the curtain and wrench it aside. Sure enough, there’s the nuisance himself, crouched like a gangly bird on the branch extending past my window. His obsidian tips sit low on his forehead, curling toward his brows, and his gray eyes are vivid enough to light up the night.
Seeing me doesn’t stop his tapping, so I unlock the window and fling it open, allowing a rush of balmy air to surge into my room. “Leave me alone. I’ve changed my mind,” I snap.
“I can fix that,” he says.
“You can’t.” I try slamming the window shut, but he catches the frame, keeping it propped up.
“This is where it started,” he says, his free hand gesturing into my room. “Fourteen months ago. April eighteenth.” His default smile extends into something more teasing. “This is where you said yes.”
My jaw locks with frustration. I scrutinize every inch of his handsome face, seeking deception. I don’t think he’s lying to grab my attention. The issue is that he has it now.
“Want to know more?” Aaron is analyzing me with a fondness that burns me to my chest. “It’s not a pretty truth, but it’s a truth I’ve promised you. So I’ll be honest.”
The hooked tips of his claws are cracking through the surface of my bones. Rooting themselves. “Just tell me what you know. Then you can leave,” I say sharply, backing away. As soon as he has room, Aaron lurches through the open window with frustrating grace. I wish he’d look clunky and awkward for once, but every move he makes is smooth and elegant. “How did we get together? Why isn’t it a pretty truth?”
“Well…” Aaron twists the black stud in his ear, and when his eyes flit to me, I realize something that nearly drops my jaw. He’s nervous. His shoulders are hunching, like he’s curling into himself for protection, and his voice is thicker—something’s weighing it down.
“Don’t lie,” I tack on. “That was my first condition.”
“I know. It’s just…saying it is a little…” Aaron’s face brightens, and he swivels on me. “Let’s reenact the night. Role-play.”
My brain is about to leak out of my ears. “Can’t you just tell me?” I ask faintly.
“If it’s in the moment, it could jog your memory.”
I knew we’d revisit our previous dates if we went through this, but I didn’t think we’d be role-playing our former selves. Still, maybe this will help me understand how the impossible came to pass. I’m hopelessly lost as to how we got from A to B.
