Begin Again (Again #1)(49)

“Thank you so much for the invitation, Rachel,” I managed to say. “I’m sorry I have to leave so soon.”

She said I’d always be welcome and gave me another hug before helping me into the car.

Kaden buckled my seatbelt like a child; my hands were useless. He hit the gas and pushed the speed limit till we were out of town. After giving me a few minutes to catch my breath, he told me he’d booked a ticket for a flight that left in about forty-five minutes. All I had to do was open the app on my phone and go straight to the terminal.

Everything flowed past me like fog. All I knew was that, unlike me, Kaden seemed to have the situation under control. But there was no room for shame or any other feeling. Only for worry about my dad. I couldn’t even recall our last conversation, however hard I tried.

“Stop thinking,” Kaden admonished me.

He didn’t have to see me to know what was going on in my head. His eyes were focused on the road.

At the airport, Kaden pulled into a parking spot at an angle. While I was opening my door, he grabbed my bag from the trunk. Then he took me by the arm and guided me to the terminal. Out of breath, we reached the check-in line.

“Arms up,” he demanded.

“What?”

“Lift your arms,” he repeated.

He was holding his light gray sweater in his hand.

Kaden slipped it over my head and my outstretched arms; now his familiar scent was enveloping me, and with it came a sense of security.

“Thanks,” I murmured, as Kaden put the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “Thanks.” And because it felt somehow lacking, I repeated myself a few more times.

“Everything’ll be okay,” Kaden interrupted. He combed his fingers through my hair, which had to be a mess by now. He paused at the back of my head before bending down and pressing his lips against my forehead. Eyes closed, I let the moment sink in. A sense of peace settled over me and I held my breath. The moment passed way too quickly.

“Now get out of here,” he murmured, nodding toward the check-in counter.

After one more look into Kaden’s dark eyes, I turned and ran.





Chapter 19


Of course there were no direct flights to Lincoln, Nebraska. With a short layover in Denver, it would take about five hours to get there. Sleeping was out of the question, as was sitting still. I would have liked to have burned my pent-up energy somehow, preferably by crying, because I knew I’d feel more peaceful and my thoughts would be clearer afterward. But my body had grown unfamiliar in the last couple of hours. It just didn’t work. I couldn’t even down the water that the flight attendant handed out. My throat was burning, I felt nauseated, and the only thing that helped even a little bit was the smell of Kaden, which surrounded me like a familiar cocoon. I buried my face up to my nose in the soft sweater and pulled the sleeves over my fingertips to hide my trembling.

Once out of the plane, I wanted to run. But there were too many people streaming toward the exit. On the street, I started looking for a taxi.

The driver understood the urgency. Traffic was heavy around the airport, but after a few minutes the jam eased up and he stepped on the gas, heading for the affluent area where my parents lived.

When the driver reached our wide street with its stately homes and stopped, I was on the verge of puking. After throwing money into his lap, I jumped out of the car, took my bag from the trunk, and ran up to our driveway.

I rang the bell and banged on the massive door before I opened it and stepped inside. My eyes scanned the foyer frantically.

Right away, I heard someone approaching and murmuring something unintelligible in an annoyed tone.

“Crystal?” Dad asked, surprised.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Panting, I stared at him.

His hair had gone almost completely gray; his hairline had receded even farther. He was wearing a tailored, gray suit complemented by the usual white shirt and dark tie.

I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his chest. And finally the tears came.

“You’re okay,” I sobbed.

Dad patted my back awkwardly. “Why shouldn’t I be?” he asked.

It’d been so long since I’d heard his voice. He almost sounded like a stranger.

“What about your accident?” I asked, stepping back and looking for any injuries. I’d thought he’d be lying unconscious in a hospital bed, with a bruised face and bandaged arms. In fact, he looked intact.

“Oh, that,” answered Dad with a frown. “I tore a ligament on the squash court.”

Words failed me.

“You know that Edmund and I sometimes play too hard.”

“But Mom—” I broke off and swallowed hard. “Mom called me and said you were in an accident,” I choked. “She made it sound really bad.”

Dad barked out a laugh and then shook his head. He heaved a sigh, then took my bag from my shoulder. “You must’ve misunderstood her.”

I was stunned. No time to answer back: My father cut that short by stepping aside.

“Just come in,” he urged me.

As we walked through the foyer, I noticed he was limping a bit. He set my bag down on the marble floor and headed toward the parlor without looking back. It took great effort for me not to lose my cool.

On one hand, it was a relief to see that Dad was okay.