As she laced up her shoes, she thought of Daisy, of her blank stare, the pain crossing her eyes when Aubrey reminded her Josh was dead. Of her certainty that Chase was Josh. It was disconcerting, and made this whole situation that much weirder. She was missing something, something big.
She left the house with Winston, let him guide her. He went up the hill, toward 25th, legs stretching, and she knew he was headed toward the park. Tonight it didn’t seem like such a horrible place to go. They raced up the hill, then settled in for a nice comfortable run. They circled Dragon Park, not stopping at the tree. She thought about Chase as she ran, and was back home in an hour.
Aubrey was hungry. That was something new. She wasn’t used to these feelings: hunger, desire, contentment. She just knew she was about to have answers, and even if they hurt, even if they cut to the bone, there was a path to the light.
She fed Winston and was putting the finishing touches on a bowl of spaghetti when the doorbell rang. Winston scrambled to the door, nails clicking on the floor, and barked, three times, in quick succession.
She set the bowl on the counter and went to the door. Glanced out the peephole. Tyler.
Finally. She pulled the door open.
“I’ve been trying to reach you. Where have you been?”
When he didn’t answer right away, she registered the truth. Tyler’s skin had a grayish tinge to it, one Aubrey recognized. How quickly he had fallen. He’d used again and was trying to kick the heroin. He was in withdrawal.
“Hey, sis.” He was shaking from head to toe.
“Oh, Tyler,” she said. Her heart really did hurt for him. What he went through trying to get and stay clean she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. It was hell. He got so very sick.
“Come in. What do you need?”
“It’s that obvious?”
“You forget, we’ve done this before.”
He tried for a smile, but only managed a grimace. He stepped into the house, and she shut the door behind him.
“Couch or bed?” she asked.
“Couch.”
She got him settled in the living room. “What happened?
“Got waylaid by a friend, looking for info on Derek Allen. I’m sorry.”
“Why didn’t you go to the clinic?”
“Did.”
“So you have the methadone? Why haven’t you taken it?”
“Did,” he said again. “Isn’t working. Not like it should.”
He started to shiver. She covered him with an afghan, got him a glass of water and the tall plastic wastepaper basket lined with a trash bag. He was in for a rough night.
“Were you able to find anything—”
But Tyler was gone, passed out cold.
Aubrey supposed this was penance. She vacillated between love and hate for Tyler. The hate all stemmed from the fact that he knew her, knew what her life had been, what she’d been through, in ways Josh never had. She’d never told Josh what happened. She’d never spoken of it to anyone.
But Tyler knew. Tyler knew she’d been sullied. It was like everything that had happened to her was a result of her past. If she’d kept the door closed that night, she would have led a completely different life, with a completely different outcome. Most importantly, Josh might still be alive.
If only.
She got Tyler some water and retrieved her spaghetti. She ate in the kitchen, not wanting to sicken him with the smell if he woke up. The food was so good. She ate like she hadn’t eaten in years, with gusto. She even had seconds. Then she cleaned the kitchen and tiptoed into the living room. Tyler was still asleep but restless, a fine sheen of sweat covering his face.
She took her laptop and went to her bedroom. Tyler would wake soon enough, needing food or water or the bucket emptied. She’d take advantage of the lull to send a note to Chase. Just a quick Hey, how are you? I’m home. Call me.
Meghan didn’t want her to mention anything about Josh, not just yet. Aubrey felt like she was going to go mad, waiting. After five years, she finally had a spark of hope, and she didn’t want to wait any longer. If she hadn’t known all the parts of him, there was such possibility. She’d spent five years having to believe he was dead, for that was the only way he’d abandon her. But what if . . . ?
She made a promise to herself. She wouldn’t hide from Chase. She’d tell him all of her story, all the blank spots she’d glossed over, and let the chips fall where they may.
Before she started to type, the phone rang. It was Chase. As if she’d summoned him from thin air.
With a smile, she answered. “Hey. How are you tonight?”
“Fine. All good. Did you have a nice run?”
“How’d you know I went for a run?”
“You’re out of the hospital before dark, that’s why.”
“Wow. You already know me so well. What time is your flight tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there in the afternoon. I have a car, don’t worry about picking me up. Aubrey—” He broke off, and she heard something odd in his tone. “We need to talk.”
Her heart started beating double time. “About what?”
“Just . . . things. I have something I want to say, but I want to do it in person. Okay?”
She fought to keep the tears from her voice. “If you’re breaking up with me, you can do it now and save the plane fare.”