Epoch (Transcend Duet #2)(74)
“Nate …” Yeah. That’s all I’ve got.
He smiles. “It’s an innocent love. It’s a beautiful love. I think it’s even an eternal love. But … I don’t know yet. Maybe in another lifetime we’ll see. We’ll find out if our souls share something that transcends time or if they are nothing more than epoch.”
“Epic?”
“E-p-o-c-h. It’s a memorable event or period in time.”
“Epoch …” I grin. “I definitely think this is epoch. But I also think it could be transcendent … and that would be e-p-i-c.”
He reaches behind me and opens my door. “Drive safely.”
“Safe.” I start to get in my car and stop. “It’s weird.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s been over a month since my fiancé left, since I told you that I was sleeping with a knife under my pillow. A month since you knew I was going to have hypnosis to remember what happened. But you just …” I shrug, face contorted in confusion. “You never asked. Like you just stopped caring. I feel like everyone stopped caring. It’s like the moment my parents gave up on me being anything extraordinary.”
Nate has this unexplainable look on his face. It’s odd. Cautious? Contemplative? “How’s all of that going?”
I cough a laugh. “Are you serious? How’s all of that going? I’m not dead, that’s how it’s going, but gee … thanks for asking a fucking month later.”
He flinches.
“Seriously! What has to happen for the people who supposedly love me to give more than two shits?”
“Swayze …”
“You have video cameras in your house, yet my safety doesn’t warrant so much as a ‘Hey, are you locking your doors?’ or ‘Has that psychopath tried to get near you again?’”
“Has he?”
“No!” I throw my hands up in the air. “Because he’s dead!”
Nate nods.
He. Fucking. Nods!
“Then you’ve been safe.”
My head whips back like a close encounter with a bus on a busy street. “He’s. Dead.”
Nate nods again. A slow nod with that look. That cautious, contemplative look. “That’s a relief.”
“What’s going on, Nate?” My breaths turn shallow, and I feel weak in the knees.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re not reacting in a normal way. I say Doug Mann is dead, and you have no questions. None. Not ‘Are you serious?’ Or ‘When? Where? How?’ How, Nate. The normal reaction is to wonder how he died. Heart attack, cancer, car accident, or a knife to his heart. My knife, Nate. I took a knife and a bottle of Xanax to his apartment.”
His eyes narrow, wrinkling the skin around his eyes.
“I was going to kill him because the hypnosis didn’t work. I was going to kill him because that’s the only way I could live. That’s the only way I could feel safe. That’s the only way I could ease my conscience that no one else would die at his hands.”
“I’m sorry.”
He’s sorry. That’s all wrong. What is going on?
When I start to speak, he brings me into his arms, stifling my attempt to speak. I don’t want a hug. I want answers. I want to know how the two men who have claimed to love me the most just abandoned me when I needed them the most.
I pull back. “Nate—”
“Shh …” He drops his head, hovering over my lips, one hand sliding into my hair, palming the side of my head while he rubs the knuckles of his other hand over my cheek, rendering me speechless and breathless.
The pad of his thumb slides over my bottom lip, jumbling my thoughts. His thumb trails downward, his lips follow in its wake.
When his thumb rubs my neck, just below my ear, my eyelids surrender, finding solace in memories of a lifetime ago. I grab his arms to steady myself when his lips press to my neck.
This is what it feels like.
To be cherished.
To be adored.
To be loved beyond words.
To be young.
To be alive.
“Swayze,” Nate murmurs against my ear, “you’re safe because those who claim to love you actually do love you.” He kisses my neck.
I die.
He kisses my cheek and lets go of me, turning and not giving a glance back as he makes his way up the drive. “Goodnight.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I think it’s time to revisit Dr. Albright. Then I change my mind. She’s called me once a week since my failed hypnosis session, just to see how I’m doing. There’s no pressure to go visit her. There’s no pressure to share anything at all with her. Sometimes the only thing I share is a new recipe gone wrong and why wasted food is the reason I eat out so much.
She’s being a friend, someone who knows my journey so well. A true friend’s hand is always outstretched. Knowing I can take that hand whenever I need it is a comfort all of its own.
This Monday morning, I might need that hand. My knees wobble with each step I take toward Nate’s front door. The kiss on the neck Friday night left me dazed and confused. Nervous and giddy. That kiss on the neck gave me sound sleep. I didn’t wake up once reaching for Griffin. I didn’t shed a single tear over his absence, and I didn’t hate him in the morning.