Chapter 5
TALYA
This had to be a dream. Or a really sick joke.
I knew that voice like it was my own, but him being here was impossible. He was supposed to be in France.
Right?
And yet, the pan of nostalgia that rippled through me was unmistakable. No one else’s voice had ever made me feel the way his did.
Acute electric awareness ran down my spine, and with my heart threatening to go into a coronary, I slowly turned my attention to whoever was behind me. Holding onto the tiniest sliver of hope that I was mistaken, and that whoever stood there wouldn’t be the only person I’d ever given my heart to.
And the only one who’d ended up breaking it.
My breath stalled in my chest the moment our gazes met, as if my lungs were momentarily paralyzed.
Seconds, minutes, or even hours may have passed as I stared into his green eyes.
I watched him with such intensity that I convinced myself this wasn’t him after all, so I tried to blink and dispel the ghost of my past, but he didn’t disappear like I’d expected him to.
Ezra James was really here and he was standing right in front of me.
Because despite the skeleton painted on his face and the three years that had passed since I’d last seen him in person, I’d recognize my childhood best friend anywhere.
His hair was painted white, some of his dark streaks peeking through, but where it usually was messy and falling over the tops of his ears, he’d slicked it back.
The black-and-white striped suit he wore framed his broad shoulders—which seemed even broader now—and hugged his lower half like it was made for him.
Considering he was now a renowned pastry chef in Paris and the opening of his first shop was in the works, I’d bet he’d had his Jack Skellington costume tailored.
I pulled in a breath, but it was shallow and sour somehow, making my eyes burn with each passing second. “Ezra?” I pushed past the clog in my throat at saying his name again.
As soon as I’d said it, he blew out a breath like he’d also been holding his ever since our eyes met. “Taly-Belly,” he replied softly, the warm, rich honey of his voice washing the nickname over me like no time had lapsed.
Part of me wished I had the will to get up, run away, and pretend this never happened. Or better yet, that I’d wake up on my couch with drool drying on the side of my face, with my TV asking if I was still watching.
But another—much bigger—part of me had been expecting this exact moment.
For an explanation on why I hadn’t heard from him and why he’d stopped calling or sending me letters like he’d done for the major part of the last three years we’d been apart after he left to study under one of the best pastry chefs in the world.
A myriad of emotions pulsed heavily in my veins as the air around us became almost suffocating. I’d always thought we’d find our way back to each other. That no matter what happened, we’d be connected by all the memories we’d share.
But when I’d stopped hearing from him, it had felt final.
Like I’d never see him again.
“Hi.”
I’d thought of this moment for so long, of what I’d finally say to him when I saw him again, but my head was all over the place and I was still trying to make sense of how he was here… and not 3,437 miles away, like he was supposed to be.
“Hi,” he echoed, that stupidly perfect grin of his pulling at the corner of his lips.
“How…” I started, breathless. “How are you here?”
“I moved back last week.”
His response felt like a punch to the gut, and an invisible vise wrapped around my throat.
“You did?” I tried my best to school my features and not let the anguish show, but I’d never been able to hide anything from him.
I’d never wanted to.
His features turned sullen as if he’d realized what he’d just said.
Growing up, we’d never gone more than a few hours without speaking to each other.
Even in college and when he’d left for Europe, no longer than a day or two passed without one of us calling the other. No matter how busy we’d both get.
Now, there were months and what felt like a lifetime unknown to each other.
“Um… I don’t mean to interrupt, but who are you?” a man’s voice asked, snapping me out of whatever trance I’d been in.
Ezra and I both looked behind me and that was when I remembered Andrew existed. Something that always happened when Ezra was around. Everything else faded and we’d get lost in our own bubble until my sister or one of our parents called us back to Earth.
“I’m her match, and you are interrupting,” Ezra said, his tone taking an edge I’d never heard before. He was always calm and collected. Nothing ever seemed to faze him.
Andrew frowned. “But we’ve been—”
“I don’t like repeating myself. So thank you for keeping her company, but I’m here now,” Ezra interjected, interrupting him.
I could only stand there and watch whatever stand-off the two were having. I should be irritated that he was being rude to Andrew and how territorial he was when he hadn’t spoken to me in months, but frankly, I was still in shock that my Ezra was here.
Even if seeing him again made my chest hurt.
He’s not your Ezra, my mind chimed in.
“Talya?” Andrew said, focusing his attention back on me. His fingers brushed over my inner wrist, lingering there for a moment.
I gently pulled my arm away. “Sorry,” I said, giving him an apologetic smile.
Andrew had been nice, but there weren’t any sparks and it wasn’t like I’d planned to take him home or accept his offer to be his match. Whatever that meant.
The single word made his entire demeanor change in a flash. A scowl twisted his previously nice features into a douchebag who’d just gotten his ego bruised.
“You weren’t that pretty, anyway,” he mumbled to himself before getting up and walking away.
I rolled my eyes at his sourness and didn’t deign him with a response. It was such small dick behavior and one of the many reasons I’d rarely dated. Boys never had enough self-respect to just walk away and instead had to critique your looks because they didn’t get what they wanted.
Like I cared what a stranger thought about my appearance.
I looked fucking hot and he was too prideful to take my rejection like an actual man.
I faced Ezra again to find him glaring at Andrew’s retreating form. I could almost feel the anger pouring off of him in waves and despite Ezra’s non-confrontational personality, he always stood up for me even if he knew I could do it myself.
I placed a hand on his arm. “He’s not worth it. He’s just being a dick.”
Ezra looked down at me and a chuckle, one I’d missed so much, escaped his lips. “Since when does Talya Morrone curse?”
I knew his comment was meant light-heartedly, but the earlier pang that had ephemerally tucked itself away, planted itself back right inside my chest.
I pulled my hand away. “You’d know if you hadn’t disappeared without a word.”
My words hit him right where I’d meant for them to, but as soon as he winced, I regretted them even when I shouldn’t. Did he regret not answering my calls and simply acting like I’d never existed?
Then why should I feel bad for telling the truth?
Fuck that.
“I have to go,” I added, my self-preservation instinct finally kicking in and propelling me out of my stool.
I need to leave.
I can’t do this.
His eyes went wide. “You can’t,” he blurted out, taking a step closer. “I haven’t seen you in years and you’re just going to walk away?”
An unexpected rage filled my chest, dimming the hurt and threatening to take over and washing it all away.
He’d been back in town for an entire week and apparently, I hadn’t been important enough for a drop-by or even a text.
I’d somehow managed to speak to him without completely losing my shit, but with his accusation, all bets were off because how dare he?
“Me, walk away? You’re the one who hasn’t spoken to me in months.”
I must have said that last part louder than I’d intended because a few patrons nearby looked over at us. I’d usually hate the attention, but right now, I didn’t care.
“Talya.” He’d said my name so quietly, I’d barely heard it.
My eyes fluttered shut. “I can’t do this,” I started, shaking my head repeatedly. “I just… I have to go.”
I moved to push past him, but I’d barely made it a step when his gloved hand wrapped around my wrist.
I was ready to yank my arm away and tell him off, but when I looked up at him, Ezra’s face mirrored what was happening in my chest. Looking at him felt like a punch to the gut when it used to fill me with so much happiness.
Ezra used to be my person. He’d always been.
He’d been my best friend, my confidant.
Probably the love of my life even though I’d never mustered the courage to tell him.
I’d always been scared to tell him how I felt, not wanting to risk our friendship.
That might seem like an easy excuse, but when you shared so much with one person, the idea of not having them anymore or for things to never be the same if they didn’t feel the same way was almost unbearable.
What if I’d confessed my stupid love for him and he’d left or started acting differently to protect my feelings?
Guess he left anyway, the nagging voice in my head mocked, reminding me of the hole Ezra had torn between us when he decided I wasn’t worth it anymore.
“Talya, stay.” His voice came out thick with emotion. “Please.”