She crossed the room and leaned against the counter. “I’ve tried hypnosis several times and I remember nothing more. I think it’s time that I move on. Ashley’s due in a couple of weeks. Dad’s ready to complete his replacement family. As soon as I graduate, this part of my life will be over. I’m okay with not knowing what happened.” Her words sounded pretty, but I knew her better. She’d blinked three times in a row.
Mrs. Collins opened her door. “So sorry, Echo, but I had an emergency….” Her eyes fell on me then flickered to Echo. I shook my head when her lips twitched up. “You can come in whenever you’re ready.” Without waiting for a reply, she shut the door.
“Guess I should go in.” Echo walked back to the chair beside me and picked up her pack.
I stood as she straightened and snaked my arms around her, pulling her close to me, savoring the feel of every delicate curve. For three weeks, I spent my time convincing myself that our breakup was the right choice. But being this close to her, hearing her laugh, listening to her voice, I knew I had been telling myself lies.
Her eyes widened when I lowered my head to hers. “It doesn’t have to be this way. We can find a way to make us work.”
She tilted her head and licked her lips, whispering through shallow breaths, “You’re not playing fair.”
“No, I’m not.” Echo thought too much. I threaded my fingers into her hair and kissed her, leaving her no opportunity to think about what we were doing. I wanted her to feel what I felt. To revel in the pull, the attraction. Dammit, I wanted her to undeniably love me.
Her pack hit the floor with a resounding thud and her magical fingers explored my back, neck and head. Echo’s tongue danced manically with mine, hungry and excited.
Her muscles stiffened when her mind caught up. I held her tighter to me, refusing to let her leave so easily again. Echo pulled her lips away, but was unable to step back from my body. “We can’t, Noah.”
“Why not?” I shook her without meaning to, but if it snapped something into place, I’d shake her again.
“Because everything has changed. Because nothing has changed. You have a family to save. I …” She looked away, shaking her head. “I can’t live here anymore. When I leave town, I can sleep. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I did. I understood all too well, as much as I hated it. This was why we ignored each other. When she walked away the first time, my damn heart ruptured and I swore I’d never let it happen again. Like an idiot, here I was setting off explosives.
Both of my hands wove into her hair again and clutched at the soft curls. No matter how I tightened my grip, the strands kept falling from my fingers, a shower of water from the sky. I rested my forehead against hers. “I want you to be happy.”
“You, too,” she whispered. I let go of her and left the main office. When I first connected with Echo, I’d promised her I would help her find her answers. I was a man of my word and Echo would soon know that.
Echo
Nerves took dominion over my body and I concentrated on not peeing my pants. My bladder shrank to twelve sizes smaller than normal and sweat soaked the armpits of my cotton short-sleeved shirt. I was sure I looked excellent.
A slimy cold boa constrictor wrapped around my heart and squeezed—the scars. I wore short sleeves most of the time now and was getting better at not obsessing about my arms … until someone stared, anyway. Sure, she knew about them, but seeing them could be difficult. I sighed heavily as I parked under the large oak trees. Too late to head home and change clothes now.
She stood by Aires’ grave. I kept my eyes to the ground and counted each step from the car. Somewhere between steps three and five, adrenaline began tickling my bloodstream, making me feel like a balloon floating away. The April Saturday was warm, but my skin felt clammy.
I’d asked to see her, proving I’d officially lost my freaking mind. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I stopped. Aires’ grave lay between us. My mother on one side and me on the other.
“Echo,” she whispered. Tears glistened in her green eyes and she took a step toward me.
My heart rammed through my rib cage and I took an immediate step back. For a second, I considered running and struggled hard to remain where I stood.
Mom retreated and put her palms in the air in a gesture of peace. “I just want to hug you.”
I considered her request for a brief moment. Hugging my mom should be natural, an automatic reaction. I swallowed, shoving my hands in my back pockets. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
She nodded weakly and glanced at Aires’ tombstone. “I miss him.”
“I do, too.”
All of my memories of my mother didn’t fit the woman before me. I remembered her as a youthful beauty. Now she rivaled my father. Crow’s-feet were embedded around her eyes and lines framed the sides of her mouth. Instead of the naturally wild, curly red hair I remembered, she wore it flat-iron straight.
During her highs, my mother had appeared to walk on air. In her lows, she clung to the ground of the earth. Standing in front of me, she was neither high nor low. She just was.
She seemed almost normal. Like any other aging woman grieving at a cemetery. In this moment my mom wasn’t some out-of-control superwoman or a dangerous foe. She was just a woman, human, almost relatable.
Relatable or not, every instinct inside of me screamed to run. My throat swelled and I fought the compulsion to dry heave. My options were faint or sit. “Do you mind sitting down? Because I need to.”
My mother gave a brief smile and nodded while she sat. “Do you remember when I taught you and Aires to make bracelets and necklaces out of clover?” She picked a few of the small white flowers and knotted them together. “You used to love wearing them as tiaras in your hair.”
“Yeah,” was my only answer. Mom enjoyed the feel of the grass on her bare feet so she never forced Aires or me to wear shoes. The three of us loved being outside. She continued to weave the clover into a single strand as the awkwardness grew.
“Thanks for texting me back. Which letter did you get?” I’d purposely visited art galleries where my mother had once sold her paintings, leaving a letter for her at each one.