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As she steps out of the car and walks toward the center, I can’t shake off the uneasiness that grips me.I watch her until she disappears into the building, and a part of me wishes I could go with her.
I start the engine, the car purring back to life.I’ve got a mission to attend to, and as much as I hate to leave Aerin and Greyson behind, I know there’s a team that’ll protect them.But the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach doesn’t leave.
ChapterNine
Aerin
“Morning, Dr.C,”the receptionist greets me, his voice laced with a sunny optimism that stands in sharp contrast to the clinical sterility of the rehabilitation center.“The patient is near the pond.He hasn’t spoken to anyone yet.Would you like a laptop to start his file while you speak with him?”
I force a smile, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes.The never-ending paperwork is an irksome reminder of the bureaucratic nature of this place.It’s a private facility, but they insist on rigid protocols.Their obsession with formalities sometimes seems to overshadow the actual care we provide.But now, my focus is on the patient, not the paperwork.
“Not right now,” I reply, my voice laced with a touch of exasperation.“Let me get a sense of the situation first.We’ll deal with the rest soon enough.”
My steps are filled with resolute determination as I make my way toward the pond.The placid water sparkles, kissed by the sunlight.Upon reaching it, a wave of familiarity crashes over me.Sanford was right, it’s Grey.
In theory, I should inform the staff that I can’t work on this case.But right now, I’m granting myself five minutes to talk to him, to understand him.Besides, I have the note from Sanford.I slowly take a seat beside him, my body gravitating closer as if pulled by an invisible force.Our pinky fingers brush against each other.
We don’t need more contact than that to feel each other.I close my eyes, allowing myself to absorb his pain, to experience the depths of his sadness.
One of the happiest people in the world is now all broken.It’s heartbreaking that the guy who used to captivate everyone with a mesmerizing smile that instantly infused life into anyone around is now dreading to take his next breath.
But Sanford is right.We’re still intricately linked.I can sense it, the feeling of belonging.I know where I’m supposed to be—here, with him.Helping him with whatever he needs so he can remember how to live.
The memory of his last words to me in the midst of the chaos, the gunshots, the impending doom, it all echoes in the recesses of my mind.“No matter what happens, I’ll always love you.Till my last breath and beyond, I’ll always love you.”
“Are you okay?”I ask, knowing the answer but hoping for a different response.
“I wanted to die when I read that you ...”He doesn’t finish, his voice just a breath above silence.“You gave up.”
“It was fiction,” I say quietly.“I described the pain I experienced when I found Enya lifeless on the rooftop of our building with a note.What I imagined she thought the moment she decided to give a finality to her story.”
“That must’ve been shattering,” he sympathizes, “especially when you two had finally started to act like sisters.”
“Again, it’s fiction,” I mumble.“I couldn’t forgive her for what she did to you.Only for what happened to me.”
“Still, the thought of not having you anymore sent my mind spiraling.I wanted to follow you wherever you might have gone,” he admits.
“But the world would be a darker place without you,” I argue, trying to inject some levity into our heavy conversation.
He scoffs.“Doubtful.Why areyouhere?”
“I work here, among other places,” I mutter, knowing that I might as well quit and head back home so his family and I can help him.
I can’t just abandon him in this condition.Before making any hasty decisions, I need to comprehend why he chose this place and isolated himself.Did he come voluntarily?Or did Lang bring him here?If anyone dragged him because he was a danger to himself, it’ll be hard to get him out.Then again, he can always threaten to sue them, and they’ll open the door without batting an eyelash.
My next question comes out urgently.“And why are you here?”
“You know those days when you just want to walk to a lake, reach the bottom, and never return?”he asks, his words heavy with an invisible burden.
I shake my head.“No.I usually have days when I can’t stomach looking at food and try to avoid it.There are others when I want to shove in everything that’s handy but then puke all of it, guilt-ridden by the memories of my mother and her toxicity,” I share, my voice falling to a whisper.“But now, I know what to do before I fall into those patterns.I write it all down in my journal, trying to navigate through all the emotions underlying my reaction.”
Because his emotions are all over the place, I don’t add that my digression is probably because I miss them—he and Sanford—so much it’s hard to breathe, or maybe I’m self-flagellating for what happened to Greyson.
“Are you still battling your food disorders?”he asks, his voice a mere husky whisper in the quiet around us.
“Yes,” I admit, my gaze fixated on the artificial pond.“The battle never completely disappears, but I’ve learned to channel my feelings differently.And if you reached out to the people who care about you, I’m certain they’d support you.”
He exhales heavily, the sound reverberating through the silent space around us.“I miss you.”
