Chapter 42
Astrid
I stared at the open door, foolishly hoping he'd walk back through it, even as the sound of his car drifted into the distance. But all that returned was silence—my empty house whispering the truth I didn't want to hear.
Part of me ached to run after him, but my stubborn pride held me back, rooting me in place. I knew he was angry, but seeing him leave without even one glance at me hurt more than the anger itself.
“You know, the Orange Falls government charges extra taxes for working on weekends.” I lifted my head from my file to see Kelly strolling into my studio. I moved into my new studio a week ago, just a short walk from Kelly’s greenhouse.
“I’ve got eleven weddings booked this season. I have to get busy.” One wedding became two, two ballooned into six, and now here I was at eleven, because I was allergic to saying no.
“I have observed a pattern to conclude you aren’t busy but pretending to be busy.” Kelly snapped the file shut.
“Humor me?”
“You’re missing Aeron,” she grinned.
My heart did a traitorous little flip. I hadn’t mentioned the fight to Kelly yet, mostly because Kelly never just accepted information—she excavated it, layer by uncomfortable layer. It was already complicated enough between me and Aeron.
It had been two weeks since he left for Congo.
Two weeks without hearing his voice. He called two days after leaving, but I missed it.
I was stuck with a client, and my phone was annoyingly out of my reach.
Seeing his missed call sent my heart into a frantic, foolish dance.
I immediately called him back, but it went straight to voicemail.
Every time I called for the next three days, it slipped straight to voicemail. Except once, when fate took pity and the call miraculously connected for about ten seconds of broken static and a barely-there whisper of sweetheart. Now that single, fractured word kept echoing through my head
I opened the file, desperate to drown out the noise in my head, but Kelly promptly snapped it shut.
“Kel—”
“You’ve been working nonstop like a bull for the past two weeks. It’s starting to freak me out.”
I sighed. “I’ve put in longer hours during deadlines.”
“Exactly,” she said pointedly, grabbing my hand and tugging me up. “But you don’t have deadlines right now. Today is officially relaxation day—no files, no clients, no exceptions.”
I gave in to Kelly’s stubbornness and let her drag me back to her house. Eleanor had lunch ready. Kelly and I settled in, ate way too much, chatted about everything, watched a movie, and laughed until my sides ached. I probably needed this.
I suddenly had the ridiculous urge to call Aeron, thinking—hoping, really—that luck would spare us a minute to talk. But then the time difference sank in: it was three in the morning there. I didn't want to ruin whatever little sleep he was probably getting.
Kel?” A thought about him popped into my head, something I'd wanted to ask for days. “Do you still have your school yearbook?” Ever since she mentioned Aeron’s autograph, I'd been dying to see it.
She squinted thoughtfully, glancing at the ceiling. “Probably buried under a decade's worth of dust in the attic.”
“Can we go check?”
Her eyes lit up. “Are you finally taking an interest in my glamorous teenage days?”
“No, genius.” I laughed. “I want to see Aeron’s.”
She scrunched her nose, pretending I'd crushed her feelings. “Would it kill you to lie just a little?”
“Oh come on. Your ego can handle that.”
We climbed up to the attic, digging through piles of dusty books. Kelly had saved every textbook right from first grade. She pulled out the yearbook, flipping through it at an infuriatingly slow pace. Impatient, I snatched it from her and skimmed faster.
On one nearly empty page, Aeron’s name jumped out at me.
Your persistence is impressive. Consider this my one-time contribution. Don’t chase me down again next year—Aeron
His message made me laugh, but something strange tugged at my chest. “Is this really Aeron’s handwriting?”
“Awful, isn’t it?” Kelly said, peering over my shoulder. “I had to read it three times just to figure out what it said.”
But I barely heard her. A vague familiarity stirred in me, like I'd seen this handwriting somewhere before.
I stretched my shoulders, shut the office door behind me, and dragged myself home, bone-deep exhaustion weighing down every step.
When I turned to my street, my eyes snagged on a familiar black car parked at the curb. My heartbeat was tripping all over itself. I glanced around, searching, until I spotted him leaning against a wall, one leg bent up, hands tucked in his pockets.