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I opened my eyes, diving for my laptop to write it down.

The moment the cursor blinked up at me, it was gone, ebbing away like the tide.

“Dammit,” I muttered. “Why?”

I saw the scene as if I were living it myself. I saw her clearly, as if she were standing in the room with me. I saw him too—his smiling red-brown eyes, unruly curls, the strong build of him.

I was there.

So why couldn’t I get it down? Why was there such a block in my chest?

I closed my laptop with a grunt of frustration.

Not forcing it was key, as Marissa always liked to remind me.

“Let it come to you, Av. It always does.”

But what if it didn’t? What if the valve in me that had been flooding me with so many ideas for so long had finally run dry?

What if this was it?

“Breathe,” I commanded myself. Saliva pooled in my mouth and I blinked the burn in my eyes back. “Breathe. Go outside. Get some air. Do something. Anything.”

I stood from the desk with shaking hands.

I didn’t just come here to write. I came here to…feel something.

Ideally, something that was not constant panic or sadness, but something more. Something big. Something that made me feel like the person I used to be. The one who felt hope and joy and excitement. Someone who believed that the world held promise—more than a cold and empty bed. More than deadlines, more than stale milk and moldy bread. More than an empty belly and heart.

I left the study without a backward glance, rushing through the sitting room and foyer for my jacket. I could give myself a week or two to simply relax. Settle into this place and learn the rhythm of the town and its inhabitants. I could go for dinner at Tommy and Moira’s and pretend to try someone else’s life on for a little while.

I pushed outside, wind nipping at my cheeks. The cold air was a shock to my system and I drank it down greedily, following the gravel path past my rental car to the edge of the cliffs. A small herb garden had been planted at some point but was now covered in weeds. Thistles pushed through the dirt, their spiky leaves spearing the neighboring plants.

Below me, the sea slammed into the cliffs. White sea foam sprayed up the rocks and I imagined if I leaned down, I could touch it. A fall from this height would kill me instantly and I took a cautious step back from the edge. The sun began to sink, sliding across the surface of the sea in a long caress.

Another day wasted in the past.

Talking to a ghost.

Spinning aimlessly through my life.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, forcing myself to focus on the way the sunlight painted the water in hues of peach and bronze. It was a beautiful thing to behold. We certainly didn’t have sunsets like this in New York.

I let myself feel it. Eyes closed, head tilted back, air clawing its way through my hair. Someone had stood here before me, breathing as I was breathing, trying to hold it together like I was.

I felt them.

I stayed like that for a long time, letting my breathing and my heart mingle with the sound of the waves crashing below.

When I opened my eyes, I felt better.

When I looked up, there was someone in my window, face smudged through the glass.

When I blinked again, they were gone.

And it broke my heart to think how lonely I was that I was dreaming up the impossible, a ghost to call my own.

Chapter 5