“Actually, you don’t look that good.” She leans over and presses her palm to my forehead. “You don’t feel hot but you’re pale as a ghost.”
What a perfect choice of words. Because I saw a ghost. The one that haunts my dreams, strokes my cheek and threads his fingers through my hair, whose touch I can still feel on my skin.
“I saw one,” I admit, still dazed but finally able to look at her. “I saw Vance.”
Her brows lift high on her forehead. “What?”
“I said—”
“I heard what you said, Em.” She drops down on the bed. “But how, where?”
“He was on the subway. I saw him as I was getting off. We didn’t talk because I almost fell and… the shock of it all… and then the train left.” I blow out a weighted breath. “And now I’m a mess. I’ve tried so hard to forget him and move on. But the minute I saw him, it was like nothing had changed. All those intense feelings came back.” Her glance roams to the paper on the bed. “He wrote his phone number down and held it against the glass.”
“Wow.” A soft smile forms on her lips. “Thank goodness for little things like a photographic memory.”
“Yeah.” I bring a hand to my head to stave off the impending ache. “Do you know what I thought about all day?” I don’t wait for an answer because I need to keep talking. I need to get this out. “That if I hadn’t turned around right then, I never would’ve seen him.”
Avery closes her hand around mine and gives me a gentle squeeze. “And how did that make you feel?”
My mouth tugs down as my chin begins to wobble. “Awful. Because as startled as I was to see him, I realized how much I needed it… to know that he’s okay.”
“You need to call him. You know that, right?” She lets go of my hand and reaches behind her to retrieve the wrinkled square of paper. “You two have so much left unsaid.”
Tears that have hovered all day like a dark cloud break free. “I’m afraid to see him. I… I’m good now, happy… and I can’t go back.”
“Oh, Ember.” She slides a tissue from the box on the nightstand and hands it to me. “One of the many things I love about you is that you’re always honest. Don’t start lying to yourself now. It doesn’t become you. Besides,” she adds, patting my hand, “you don’t have to go back. But maybe you can get some closure so you can move forward.” She leaps off the bed, the Bloomingdale’s bag swinging from her fingers. “Now. I’m going to put on this dress, find a movie, two spoons, and a half-gallon of ice cream,” she grins, “because I refuse to let a good dress go to waste.”
She’s almost to the door when I call her back. “Hey, Ave,” I say faintly, and she glances over her shoulder. “Thank you.” She nods on a soft smile then saunters off.
My mind wanders to Vance again. I don’t know that much about love, except what he taught me. That it’s a quiet voice, a short distance between two hearts. Or maybe it’s a flame that flickers then dies out.
MY EYES DART between my phone and the subway car, the back and forth motion making me dizzy. I’ve been riding this fucking train every day for a week, hoping to see Ember again. I stare at my cell, wanting to throw the damn thing out the window because it’s not doing what I need it to.
“Vance. That thing is going to explode if you stare at it any longer.” Chris shoves a piece of doughnut in his mouth, grinning. “Seriously, you n-need to chill out. You’re driving yourself insane over this girl.”
I frown at the package of Twinkies Chris bought me. Even they don’t hold any appeal. “She’s worth a bit of insanity.” My gaze travels to the window. “It’s been a whole week and, I don’t know. I guess… I thought she would at least call me. I just want a chance to explain. To apologize… to—”
“Grovel,” he chimes in, and somehow I manage a laugh.
“Yeah, that too.”
He brushes a sugar-coated hand on his pants. “Listen. You push people away. I know because you did it to m-me. But it wasn’t done out of malice. You’re not a selfish person Vance, and you didn’t do it to hurt me. You were just scared and angry. And in this case you had just witnessed….” Chris’s voice tapers off. “She’ll understand that.” His skinny hand latches onto my shoulder and he pulls me in close. “I forgave you, didn’t I?”
I lean away from him, gripping the ends of my hair. “I didn’t break your fucking heart.”
He slaps a hand over his chest. “Oh yeah, who s-says?”
I laugh at his expression and his lame attempt at being serious. “Shut the fuck up.” He snickers, his grin returning as he finishes off the doughnut. Powdered sugar settles on the fabric of his dress pants. “You shouldn’t eat those before we see a client,” I scold, and he glares at the package on my lap.
“Says the Twinkie King. Hey,” he nudges me with his elbow, “remember that t-time in fifth grade when your mom found three packs of Twinkie’s hidden under your mattress?”