He nods, his face beginning to lift ever so slightly. “She told me she was home. That’s what she called it, home. Said there was so much to see, so much to explain, and that it’s even better than the Summerland I told her about. And then, before she left, she said she’d be waiting for me when it was my turn—but not to hurry over anytime soon.”
He laughs when he says it—well, as much as one can laugh when they’re consumed by grief. And I swallow hard and gaze down at my knees, tu
gging on the hem of my dress, straightening the seam until it fully covers them. Remembering the first time I saw Riley in my hospital room, and how it seemed so dreamy and unreal I pretty much convinced myself that I’d somehow imagined it. But then it happened again—and again—and it kept on happening until I was able to convince her to cross the bridge to the other side—which, unfortunately, made her disappear from me forever. Making Jude my only connection to her.
I peer at him again, taking in his bleary aura, hollow gaze, and shaken face—so different from the cute, sexy, laid-back surfer boy I first met. And I can’t help but wonder how long it’ll take for him to return to that, or if he even can. There’s no quick fix for grief. No shortcuts, no easy answers, no way to erase it. Only time can do that, and even then, just barely. If I’ve learned nothing else, I’ve learned that.
“Then, about an hour later,” he continues, voice so low I have to lean forward to catch it, “I got the call that confirmed it.” He shrugs and leans back in his seat, gazing at me.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, knowing firsthand just how small those words are in the face of something so big. “Is there anything I can do?” Doubting there is, but extending the offer anyway.
He shrugs, busying himself with his sleeve, his long dark fingers rolling the wet fabric away from his skin. “Make no mistake, Ever, my grief is for me, not Lina. She’s fine…happy even. You should’ve seen her—it was like she was headed off on her most exciting adventure yet.” He leans back in his seat, smoothing his tangle of hair, gathering it all together and holding it briefly, before releasing it again and allowing it to spill down his back. “I’m really going to miss her. Everything just feels so empty without her. She was more a parent to me than my birth parents were. She took me in, fed me, dressed me, but most importantly, she treated me with respect. She taught me that my abilities were nothing to be ashamed of, nothing I should try so hard to deny. She convinced me that what I had was a gift—not a curse—and that I shouldn’t let other people’s narrow minds and fears determine how I live, what I do, or how I perceive myself in the world. She actually made me believe that in no way, shape, or form did their uninformed opinions make me a freak.” He looks away, taking in the overflowing bookshelves, the collection of paintings on the wall, before returning to me. “Do you have any idea just how big a deal that was?”
He meets my gaze, holding it for so long I can’t help but look away. His words instantly reminding me of Sabine, and how she took the exact opposite approach of Lina when she chose to blame me.
“You were lucky to know her,” I say, my throat going all hot and tight, until it threatens to close up completely. I know all too well how he’s feeling. My own family’s death is never far from my mind. But I can’t let myself go there—there’s another crisis on the horizon and I need to focus all of my energy on containing it.
“But if you were serious about helping out—” He pauses, waiting for my assurance before continuing on. “Well, I’m wondering if you wouldn’t mind watching the store. I mean, I know you don’t really want to work here anymore, and believe me, I know how angry you’ve been with me lately, and trust me, I don’t think for a minute that any of that will change because of this, but—”
I swallow hard. Swallow my words, knowing I have no real choice but to wait for him to continue. I came here not just to talk about Haven and all the ways he could go about protecting himself from her, but also to try to determine just what his intentions were the night he killed Roman.
What was he thinking?
What’s the real reason he did what he did?
But now, after all this, there is no way that conversation is going to happen anytime soon.
“—there’s just…” He shakes his head and breaks the gaze, squinting far into the distance when he says, “There’s just so much to take care of—the house, the store, the funeral arrangements…” He takes a deep breath, takes a moment to compose himself. “And I guess I’m just a little overwhelmed at the moment. And since you already know how everything works around here, it would be a huge help if you could stay and close up. But if not, no worries. I can probably try Ava, or even Honor I guess, but since you’re already here, and since you already offered—I just figured—”
Honor. His friend-slash-trainee Honor. Yet another topic we’ll have to discuss at some point.
“Not a problem.” I nod, eager to assure him. “I’m ready and willing to stay and work for as long as you need.” Knowing that if Sabine somehow finds out, it will not go over well, not in the least. But then again, it’s really none of her business. And if she chooses to make it her business, well, she can’t really fault me for helping a friend in his time of deep need.
Friend?
I look at Jude again, my eyes grazing over him, studying him carefully. No longer sure if the word still applies, or if it ever really did. We shared a past. We share a present. That’s all I really know at this point.
He sighs and shuts his eyes, his fingers moving over the lids, past the spliced brow, before dropping to the desk and gripping the sides as he stands. Taking a moment to dig deep into the front pocket of his jeans, fingers fishing around until he finds the bulky ring of keys he tosses toward me.
“Do you mind locking up?” He makes his way around the desk as I rise to my feet, the two of us suddenly finding ourselves face-to-face, sharing an awkwardly close proximity.
Close enough for me to take in the depths of those blue-green eyes—to feel the lull and sway of the wave of calm his mere presence brings.
Close enough to prompt me to take a step back, an act that causes a flash of pain to flit across his gaze.
Waving my hand at the keys when I say, “I don’t actually need those, you know.”
He looks me over for a moment, then nods and pockets them again.
The silence lingering between us for so long, I’m desperate to break it when I say, “Listen, Jude, I—”
But when his eyes meet mine, his amazing aqua gaze reduced to a bottomless sea of loss, I know I can’t even give him the summarized version of what he needs to know. He’s far too consumed by his grief to care about Haven or the threats she promises to keep—far too depressed to even think about the best ways of defending himself.
“Just…just take all the time you need. That’s all I wanted to say,” I mumble, watching the way he moves, carefully, cautiously, allowing for a wide berth between us, working to avoid any sort of accidental physical contact with me.
But I know it’s more for my benefit than his. His feelings for me haven’t changed, that much is clear.
“Oh and Jude—” I call, noting how quickly he stops, though he refuses to turn. “Be careful out there…please?”