“We can’t.” I can’t.
I’m teetering on the edge. Ready to call this entire thing off. When I finally get the door open, I have to stop. The bookstore is filled with candles, casting a soft yellow light throughout the room.
Kiersten. Or Aunt Livi?
I don’t know if this ambience is meant to entice me to stay or set the mood to go.
“Whoa.” Dax steps into the store behind me. “What is this? Another top-five Gemma Wilde sex fantasy?”
I wish that was what this was.
“No. Not sex. I need your help with something.”
Aside from the candles, everything Kiersten promised to set up is here. The book is laid out on the counter. Next to it are the candle and yarn. The chicken is sitting in a red Tupperware container next to the cashbox, and as I pick it up, a yellow sheet of lined paper falls, landing on the exact spot where the burned linoleum should be. There’s no mistaking my aunt’s dainty handwriting.
Sometimes the best risks are the ones you make with your heart.
Deep breath.
“Come here.” I extend my hand, beckoning Dax to join me on the spot where this all began.
“Things are going to get a little weird for a few minutes. I need you to trust me and go with it.”
Dax nods but doesn’t say anything. I wonder if some of the alcohol has worked its way through his system, and he’s reverting to quiet-drunk Dax.
I pick up the candle and hold it to another lit flame, watching the wick ignite.
I close my eyes and push out every thought except for one. “I wish I never did this love cleanse in the first place,” I whisper out loud.
This is the point where I should stop, but the words keep pouring from my mouth. “I wish I never tried to change the past. I wish Kierst gets the life she deserves. I wish you happiness, Dax.”
I reach for the ball of yarn and hand it to him. “I need you to tie my hands together.”
He pulls a string from the ball but gives me an unconvinced look. “I knew this was a weird sex thing. If you’re into it, I’m into it.”
He winds the yarn around my wrists twice and then ties it with a knot.
It’s time for the kiss. To seal our fate.
I close my eyes. “I need you to kiss me, Dax.”
“Now we’re getting to the good part.”
I can’t see him, but I can feel the smile in his voice, and when his lips hit mine, a million emotions pour out of me. The fear that I’m making a huge mistake. The longing to stay here where he’s mine. The guilt. The desire. The frustration that I still don’t know why all of this happened, why I’m here, or if I’m even supposed to be going back. But the emotion that trumps them all, that bursts from my chest like a freaking glittering rainbow, is the love I have for this man. This might be the biggest risk of my life, but I’m ready to take it.
“I know this probably goes against some universal law, and what I’m asking may be impossible, but if you can, try to hold on to even a small shred of this. How good we are together. How much I love you. How much I wish I could turn back the clock and love you just a little bit longer.”
He opens his eyes, his brows pulled low in confusion. “Of course I’m gonna remember. I didn’t drink that much. I love you too.”
My heart clenches so hard it feels like it’s holding my body hostage. It’s as if it’s shouting, Stay, or I refuse to beat another beat.
“Cut the cord.” I squeeze my eyes shut.
“What? Why?”
“The scissors on the table. Cut the cord. Now. Please, Dax.”
“Okay, just give me a second.”
I hold my breath, listening to the scrape of its metal blades on the linoleum.
“I love you, Da—”
Blackness.
Chapter 30
I wake up in a strange bed.
No.
It’s not a strange bed.
It’s my old bed from my lakefront condo, but the sheets are different. They’re patterned with teeny tiny bouquets of wildflowers.
I’ve never seen these sheets before.
But the yellow water stain above my head is very familiar. It looks vaguely like the Mona Lisa. And I had this very thought only a week ago when I was lying in bed waiting for my alarm to go off.
A week ago.
I’m in my basement.
I’m not supposed to be in my basement.
I fly out of bed at Usain Bolt speed. It’s definitely my basement apartment. The low ceilings. The soupy smell. Frank. Hanging in the shower. Acting like his normal spidery self.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
Something has gone wrong. I’m supposed to be back. This isn’t back.