“I’m sorry.” The tension seeps out of me at the sympathy in his gaze, and when he runs his palms down my arms and takes both my hands in his, I don’t pull away. “That sounds hard,” he murmurs.
“It is.”
“But you know…” He leans in. “You’ve never tried driving with me.”
“I don’t think that will make a difference.”
“Come on, just try it. I’ll be right there with you and you don’t have to go far. Just to the end of the parking lot.”
I shake my head hard, but he tugs my hands, inching me closer to the Lexus.
“Come on, Cass. You’ll never move forward if you don’t at least try. You need to get back on the horse.”
Molten anger bubbles up my throat. “No!” Yanking my hands out of his grip, I put a good six paces between us before whirling on him. “You don’t get to tell me what I need. You barely even know me, and you show up unannounced with a car and tell me I have to do the thing that nearly got me killed a year ago? Who do you think you are?”
“Jesus, Cass. I’m just trying to help!”
“Yeah, well. I don’t need your help.”
We’re facing each other in the parking lot, breathing hard. My cheeks are twin flames and sweat is officially coating every inch of my body, threatening to pit out my shirt. Devin’s nostrils flare as his chest rises and falls. “Okay. I’ll take it back then.”
“Good.”
“Fine.”
“Cass? Is everything all right?” A female voice calls from over my shoulder.
I whip around so fast I nearly lose my balance. “Mom?” I splutter. “What are you doing here?” I’d been so absorbed in conversation I hadn’t noticed her minivan parked at the edge of the lot—or her standing right behind me.
Mom adjusts her beige blazer. “You didn’t get my voice mail? I had to run an errand on this side of town so I thought we could have lunch. I brought your favorite—a po’ boy from Wiseman’s.” She holds up a brown paper bag.
A whole new level of panic threads through my veins. Snatching the bag, I mutter a quick “see you later” to Devin, loop my arm around her shoulders, and herd her toward my building. “Thanks, Mom. How about we eat in my office? I can give you a tour…”
Mom’s never been someone to be pushed around, though, and she shrugs out of my hold with a tut. Her gaze flicks to Devin. “Is this one of your colleagues?”
“Oh! Uh… this… this is…”
Devin steps forward, hand extended. “Devin Szymanski.”
“Devin,” she murmurs. Realization lights up her features, followed by pure, unadulterated disbelief. “Devin? It can’t… you aren’t…” She touches her forehead and shoulders in the sign of the cross, something I haven’t seen her do since I was a child.
“A figment of Cass’s imagination? No, I’m not.”
“So… you’re real. Cass was right. You’ve been real this whole time.” Her knees buckle and I reach for her automatically, but she steadies herself on the nearest car. Face pale, she waves me away. “She thought your name was Devin Bloom, though. Why?”
“I think she conflated my name with my brother’s flower shop, Blooms & Baubles.”
“I see.” She’s quiet for so long I’m afraid she’s gone into shock. But then she straightens and lifts her chin. Uh-oh. I know that look. Warning bells sound in my head, but Devin continues to smile benignly as if a Tomahawk missile weren’t headed his way.
“So—” Pushing off the car, she advances on him. “You date my daughter for three months, she gets in a near-fatal accident, and you disappear without a trace, making her believe you never existed at all?” For the first time, his confident expression falters. “Do you realize the anguish you put her through? Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you—”
I propel myself between them, arms raised. “Mom, pump the brakes. Let me explain.”
“Now I see where you get your temper from,” he mutters under his breath.
“Devin and I randomly ran into each other a few weeks ago, we got to talking, and neither of us remembered meeting before the accident. We decided to get together for drinks to try to pinpoint how we know each other, since I have so many memories of him. One thing led to another and—”
“—we started seeing each other,” Devin finishes.