What the Heart Knows

“What?” he asked.

“Hannah, I want to see a picture of her.”

Oliver pushed away from the table and rose, shaking his head as he walked out of the room. He probably thought she was going off the deep end, but she had to know if this was the woman from her dream. When he returned a few moments later and handed her an 8x10 wedding photo, she gasped.

“This is the woman from my dreams.”

“From what dream?”

“The one I probably should have let you know about.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. Great, he was pissed.

“With everything happening I didn’t want to add my nightmares on top of it. After you told me the truth about the accident I dreamed I was the woman in the passenger seat of the car, and just before I could drown this woman appeared like an angel. She told me she could save me, but she needed my permission to access that portion of my brain because we were in my dream. Jesus! I’m such an idiot. That was probably the opening she’d been looking for.”

“No, Madeline always said it was linked to your heart, and now that we know who it is we need to see her now.”

He stunned her when he stood, and held out his hand.

“Tonight?”

“She’s gotten stronger, Juni. I saw her today as clearly as I see you now, and she cracked my mirror.”

“How can she do that?”

“I don’t know, but I sure as hell don’t plan on waiting around to see what else she’s going to pull out of her bag of tricks.”

She nodded her agreement as they headed out the door. A tense quiet crept up and she couldn’t help but think Hannah was getting exactly what she wanted. With every minute that ticked by a wedge was being driven between them. How could she compete with a walking, talking, tangible memory of the woman he’d loved practically since puberty?

“You drive. I’ve had too much to drink.”

His voice was soft, and hoarse, and her heart ached for him. He’d come so close to ending his grieving process just to have the wound ripped open once more.

“Okay,” she said.

She studied him in her peripheral vision as they made their way out of the house and to her car. His face was worn. Dark circles had begun to form under his eyes, and his porcelain skin appeared a shade lighter than usual. It was clear her dreams hadn’t been the only ones Hannah was visiting. Once they were in her car she turned on the radio to drown out the voices in her head. The revelation had brought a damn lot of doubt up. He couldn’t love her more than he loved Hannah, and at this point even if he thought he did it could be a lie. Life was a cruel bitch to give her everything she wanted and contaminate it. She snuck another glance at Oliver, who gazed out the window. He looked so much like the broken man she first met it brought tears to her eyes. It was his obvious need for joy that had her attracted her to him in the first place. Though she’d be the first to admit his looks and fit body didn’t hurt. Her lips twitched upward as she thought of their journey.

No matter how their story ended it’d been worth it. Number one hundred on her list had been to know love, and he’d given her that. Which is why I need to fight for him! Maybe he doesn’t want that. Only way to know is to ask him, Juniper. You’ve never been a coward. Don’t start now. A part of her wanted to lie down on the ground and kick and scream like a toddler who didn’t get her way. After all she’d been through, it’d be a well-deserved meltdown. But it wouldn’t resolve anything. She needed to approach this situation with a clear head or she’d lose.

Hannah was more than just powerful; she was a master of manipulation. She knew every button to press when it came to Oliver, and she’d played Juni like a game system. It had never occurred to her that she’d be visited in her dreams. She licked her dry lips, and cleared her throat as she ran over what she wanted to say.

“I know this must be hard for you, Oliver. Talk to me.”

“And say what? This whole thing is my fault, Juni. If I’d never chosen Cupa you wouldn’t be involved in any of this mess.”

“That’s not what I care about.”

She watched him out of the corner of her eye, and took a shaky breath. Her Mother had always said if you didn’t want to know the answer to a question, you shouldn’t ask it. If Oliver answered wrong, things could end prematurely.

“Since you told me the ghost was Hannah you’ve shut down again. I thought we were past that.”

“Are you honestly telling me you foresee a future beyond this?” His voice was a lazy drawl from the alcohol.

“Suddenly you don’t?” Anger made her words sharp.

“I just found out the woman I’ve been mourning for the past two years blames me for her death. So if you want to know if my mind is in turmoil the answer would be yes. I’m torn in two different directions. I love you, but I owe her.”

“Owe her what, Oliver? Has it ever occurred to you, she chose to stay behind and whatever’s resulted from that is on her?”