Epoch (Transcend Duet #2)(52)

“You would not.”

He quirks a brow. “Now that’s the young naive Swayze talking. The one who doesn’t really know me. Give it a second. Once you start thinking like Daisy, you’ll know I’m one hundred percent truthful.” He shrugs. “Proud? No. I’m old enough to know that violence doesn’t solve anything, but I’m not too old to remember what it feels like to want the girl beyond all reason.”

I search for the right response, but there isn’t one, so I blink at him over and over.

“I have to get to work. Stay warm.”

More blinks.

“Nate?” I say just as he opens the door. “So you want me to leave?”

“Hell no. I’m still the boy who wants the girl beyond all reason.”

The door clicks shut.

Thirty minutes later, I get a text.

Professor: Stop holding your breath. I want my ‘friend.’ That’s all.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR





“Last week Griffin gave me an ultimatum. Move away or lose him. We’ve been coexisting in near silence since then. I have less than a month decide to stay or go.”

Dr. Albright offers a sympathetic smile, but I don’t sense an ounce of surprise.

“I want him, but I don’t want to leave. I mean … he said he believes me. He believes that I was Daisy and he can accept that.”

She listens, giving me a slow nod.

“But he’s worried about Nate. Daisy’s feelings for him. My feelings for his daughter. And ….”

Dr. Albright continues to offer a receptive smile. I love her patience with me. It’s not tick-tock time’s almost up. She looks at me like she gets me.

Of course she does.

“Go on. Take your time.”

Yeah. This is the grueling part. I know how much it hurts me, and I can only imagine it’s multiplied by a million for Griffin. “He found the picture of Nate. It was in the pocket of my jeans.”

“That must have been hard. Painful.”

I nod, blinking back the tears. “The need to know, to feel this other life has made me reckless. I’m making bad decisions, but they don’t feel like mine. And just saying that aloud makes me feel certifiably insane. No one gets acquitted for murder because the voice in their head was from another life. At best they end up in a mental hospital until they slit their wrists with a sharpened chicken bone.”

I laugh. It’s not funny, but I need to save myself. “I bet they only serve boneless cuts of meat in psychiatric hospitals. Huh?”

Dr. Albright smiles. It’s big. Not the contained humor of Dr. Greyson. “I don’t have all the answers. And I won’t pretend that I do. I wrote those books as a means of therapy. I wrote them, too, so maybe other lost souls wouldn’t feel so alone. Sometimes the memories make you feel empowered. Sometimes they feel like your demise.”

She sips her tea and holds up a finger. “Remember … this is a new journey for you. A journey full of choices. Acknowledging your past life is a choice. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it is. Not everyone gets the opportunity to make that choice. If you need to know, then you need to know. Don’t feel guilty for that.”

“But what about Doug Mann? What if the reason I remember this other life is because Daisy’s soul wasn’t finished? Is that possible?”

“Absolutely. There are many possibilities. But your job isn’t to figure out what Daisy wants, it’s to figure out what Swayze Samuels wants. And it’s okay if it’s the same thing, but it’s also okay if it’s not. You are Swayze. This is your life. You cannot go back and live her life.”

“You’re saying I should follow Griffin.” She’s probably right. After all, he’s downstairs waiting for me, protecting me even when I’m where he doesn’t want me to be. Either he’s biding his time to say he did all he could or he loves me that much.

“I’m saying you should follow Swayze. She’s got a lot of roads to take. And maybe some wrong turns along the way. That’s all part of living life. Don’t steal anything from the past or borrow anything from the future. Pay your dues today. That’s living life.”

Fuck.

Yeah, I’m twenty-two, but I feel twelve because I don’t know what that means. But I have this feeling in my gut that it’s the most important piece of advice anyone will ever give me. I should tattoo it on my forearm and stare at it every day until the meaning sinks into my soul.

*

“How was your day?” I break the silence on the way home.

“That’s my line,” Griffin says, eyes on the road.

“Well, you don’t have the copyright on it, and you haven’t said it in a while, so I’m trying it on for size.”

“My day was good. I did some training this morning, and then I was interviewed for a magazine article.” That’s the most he’s said to me in a week.

“That’s cool. I can’t wait to see the article. Is it just online or an actual paper publication?”

“Both.”

“So a good day.”

“Yeah, she took me to lunch for the interview. Nice place. Picked up the tab.”

She.

No big deal. No need for my mind to wander into jealousy land. Nope. Not me. It’s not like she sat on my bucket or shared a single bottle of beer or invited him to California.