While I Was Away(72)

“You lied,” she said calmly, the storm whipping her hair all around her head.

“No!” he shouted back. “I may have been confused, and I may have been scared, but I never lied to you!”

“Let go, Jones.”

“I can't,” he groaned. “Not now that I've found you.”

“You won't lose me,” she promised.

“You'll fall!”

“Fall with me.”

The storm was raging and she was getting heavier and he couldn't keep his grip. Not on her, not on the ground, and certainly not on reality.

“I have to go, Jones,” she said, and he suddenly realized she wasn't yelling. He could barely hear himself think over the storm, but he could hear her words as if she were standing right next to him. “I've done my time here and I can't wait anymore.”

“Please, I don't want you to go,” he begged.

“Let go,” she breathed, her voice traveling to him on the wind. “And we'll find each other again. Stay, and we might lose each other forever.”

He stared at her. He knew those words. From somewhere, from some other time. Christ, he'd said those words. He couldn't remember them, but he could feel it.

The tornado was at his back now, it would pull his feet out from under him any second. In the same amount of time, Adele would slip from his grasp. She had her head tilted back, a serene smile on her face, her eyes closed.

She trusts me. She's not scared because she trusts me. And I need to trust her.

With a shout, he jerked on her arm as hard as he could. She was abruptly yanked back onto solid ground, her chest colliding with his own. Then he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him just like he'd wanted to, and he buried his face in her hair.

“I'm not afraid of you,” he whispered in her ear, then he felt her arms go around his waist.

“Prove it.”

Two words to challenge me. Three words to terrify me. What's a little cliff in comparison?

He leaned forward, allowing gravity to take control and pull him off the cliff. Open air surrounded them, the wind pulled at them, and still he held onto her.

“I found you,” he whispered as they rocketed towards the ground. “It took me a lot longer than it took you, but I finally found you. And I'll never let go.”

But Adele couldn't hear him.

Because Adele wasn't there.

And he fell and he fell and he fell.





33




“Jones.”

Adele woke up whispering his name, which was strange, because she hadn't been dreaming. Not that she could remember, at least – she'd gone straight from blackness to consciousness. Yet his name was right there, sitting on the tip of her tongue.

She was staring at the ceiling, wondering why she was awake, when she suddenly realized there was movement next to her. She yawned, then glanced to her right.

Jones was thrashing about in his spot, his head twisting back and forth, his hands clutching the fistfuls of blanket. His legs were jerking under the covers, almost like he was trying to run – or maybe jump – in place. His teeth were bared in a grimace, and she wondered what kind of horrible nightmare had him trapped.

“Jones,” she said, sitting upright and leaning over him. “Jones, wake up. You're dreaming. Wake up.”

He was deep in it, though, not seeming to hear her at all. Thinking she'd have to shake him awake, she pressed her hand flat against his chest. The instant she touched him, though, his eyes flew open and he gasped.

“Don't go.”

Before Adele could ask what he meant or if he was okay, he jerked away from her. Let out a shout as he tumbled off the bed. By the time she was able to break free from the sheets and swing her legs over the edge of the mattress, he was already on his feet. His hands were in his hair and he was breathing hard.

“Whoa, calm down, breathe,” she urged. “What's wrong?”

“Jesus ...” he panted. His eyes were wide and wild, his gaze bouncing all over the room. “Jesus christ, it's real.”

“What?” she asked, finally standing up. She did so slowly and cautiously, but the movement still seemed to startle him. He stumbled away from her.

“I was there,” he was still struggling to catch his breath. “I was there, and you were there, and what the fuck is going on!?”

Oh.

Now Adele's eyes grew wide. She felt silly for not catching on sooner – she'd worn the same expression on her face plenty of times. It should've been shocking, someone dreaming the same dream as her. Should've been impossible. But so should holding the moon or walking on water, and she'd done those things before, too, so this didn't seem so strange in comparison.

No, it almost felt natural. Like it had been a long time coming.

“Jones,” she said his name sharply, and his wild eyed stare finally locked onto her. “It's okay. Everything is okay.”

“How is this possible?” he asked, his hands finally dropping to his sides. “I was there, Adele. The poppies, the cliff, the cabin. I saw where your tree used to be, I saw the tornado. How?”

“I don't know,” she gave him the only answer she could. “I don't know how any of this is happening. Maybe it's all power of suggestion – you talk to me, and I dream what you're saying. I talk to you about it, and now you're dreaming it.”