Chapter 31 Ashes, Not Answers
He haunts me.
Not Blake, which is the irony of it all, but Ren.
All forms of him—the silent assassin, the seductive Reaper, the inquisitive Ghostface.
It’s been a week since he confessed. A week since my life pretended to return to normal, like my world hadn’t flipped upside down all over again.
Tristan cleared my apartment. Sofia confirmed the bounty was officially frozen.
I went back to work because the alternative was unbearable.
I’d go stir-crazy if I sat around waiting for the next monster to crawl out of the dark.
Mindlessly, I log off the computer at the end of my shift and reach for my keys, pausing when I spot the empty paper bag in the trash.
Estelle’s Bakery.
This past week, every single morning without fail, I’d arrive at my workstation with breakfast waiting for me.
The offerings would change every day, but there was always a sandwich, a hot coffee prepared just the way I liked it, and orange marmalade cookies.
Then there were the notes attached—scraps I saved even though I told myself I should throw them away. This morning’s note was:
Feed the body, feed the mind.
When the first delivery came, I was bewildered since I hadn’t ordered anything. But my phone chimed. Ren left me a voice note, as if he were watching me from somewhere unseen.
“You hate me. I deserve it,” he said in his message, his voice rough with exhaustion, like someone who’d been through a war and survived. “I want to let you know…”
A ragged sigh followed.
“I’m sorry for hurting you. For not telling you the truth. But I’m not sorry for all the moments I spent with you. The conversations. The kisses. The games in the dark. Aria…you made me feel alive. Like there was something bright in my life, something more than just death and destruction.”
Tears had prickled my eyes then. Because as much as I tried to ignore it, I felt the same way.
I missed every version of him before I knew they all belonged to the same man.
“I’m going to give you space. Let you decide if you want me in your life again. But I’ll tell you this.” His voice turned urgent. “I’d give anything for another chess game with you. Another kiss. Anything.”
A sob lodged in my throat.
“I’m sorry, Aria. Nothing can convey how much I regret hurting you.” A heavy breath had whispered across the voice note. “Eat breakfast. First meal of the day. Your pantry’s always empty and you probably ran out the door because you woke up late. Be good to yourself.”
He was taking care of me even though he thought I hated him. And I didn’t know what to do with that.
A phone rings, drawing me back to the present.
The hectic noise in the ER sounds far away, even though I know chaos surrounds me.
I should check on Grayson.
The thought slips in as I walk toward the metal detectors. But for the life of me, I can’t muster a smile, and I’m afraid I’ll terrify the little guy, who already has enough to deal with right now.
Next time. I’ll give myself until the end of the week, then I’ll get my act together.
Life has to go on.
If only there weren’t a Ren-shaped hole in my heart.
“Aria! Your badge,” Rachel hollers, then appears at my side seconds later. She scans my face. “Seriously, what’s wrong? Don’t tell me nothing’s going on, because I haven’t seen you like this since…”
She doesn’t finish her sentence.
Since Blake. That’s what she was going to say.
“I’m fine. I’m probably coming down with something. Might need a day off tomorrow.” I shake my head and grab the badge from her. “Thanks. Wouldn’t want to lose this.”
Rachel’s frown deepens, but I turn away before she asks more questions.
As I line up at the exit, with the metal detectors beeping and my colleagues grumbling, I stare at the badge in my hand.
This past week, when I stared at my bedroom ceiling, unable to sleep, another memory resurfaced—one from a few months after Blake’s death.
It’s drizzling, but I barely notice as I leave Arcana & Bloom after realizing I forgot my badge at the hospital.
The girls were worried. They told me I was working too hard.
But don’t they understand work is the only thing keeping me sane? That when I work, I won’t see Blake’s bloodied face, almost unrecognizable, flash behind my eyelids? I won’t remember screaming until my throat was raw as Blake’s team pulled me off the gurney?
Wind scrapes my skin, and I tremble. A thick cloud smothers the sunlight.
The rain worsens. Raindrops pelt against my forehead as my scrubs darken, the cold biting deep.
At least I’m feeling something other than numbing grief.
A loud car honk cuts through my thoughts, followed by the shrill screech of tires against wet pavement.
I jolt, finally registering the bright headlights rushing toward me.
Then I’m flying.
I’m jerked back by a firm grip, sent crashing against a hard frame. My purse falls, its contents scattering.
My heart thrashes, and I turn to my rescuer.
Ren wraps my fingers around his umbrella. I don’t even know where he came from.
Wordlessly, he crouches and gathers my wallet, keys, lip balm, and various knickknacks, then gently slides them back into my bag.
He stands, his dark eyes meeting mine, and my breath catches in my throat.
His gaze is burning hot, searing straight through my icy skin, warming me up.
The rain plasters his black hair against his forehead, and his jaw pulses behind his half mask. He slowly lifts his hand until it hovers inches away from my face.
I don’t breathe.
It’s strange, the way I can’t look away, how I’m drawn by the pain and compassion I recognize in those whiskey eyes.
My lips part and I swallow.
His gaze dips to my mouth for a brief second. Something flickers in his eyes, then he steps closer, an inch or two, but it feels like a lot more. Gently, he grazes my cheek, brushing away the rain.
I shiver. He flinches and steps back.
My lungs drag in air as he hands me my purse.
Then he spins around and walks away, merging with a crowd I hadn’t noticed was there because I was oblivious to the storm.
Oblivious to my fingers curling tightly around the umbrella handle.
Later on, the girls called me and said my badge was at the café. That Ren dropped it off for me there. I remember wondering how he got his hands on it.
The memory accompanies me all the way to Saints Hollow Cemetery, a stone’s throw away from my apartment. I’ve avoided visiting for months, first because of grief, then because moving on felt like a betrayal.
But now I can’t stay away any longer.
A bleeding sunset keeps me company as I meander to Blake’s final resting place.
“I’m sorry I haven’t come,” I whisper and trace my fingers over his name. “Are you disappointed?”
Branches twist and leaves rustle as a gust moves through the quiet park.
“I don’t think you would be. You were the sunshine to my gloom, right?”
Closing my eyes, I continue, “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know why I’m still thinking of him after everything he’s done…to you. To me. How can I make it stop hurting?” I thump my fist against my chest. “You were the heart doctor. You’d know how to fix me.”
Tears slide down my face, and I shake my head, a sudden burst of anger straightening my spine. “I shouldn’t be asking you this. It’s selfish. I shouldn’t—”
“Go at this alone, Aria,” a soft voice murmurs behind me.
I turn.
Scarlett stands there, her red hair fluttering in the light breeze, her fingers gripping a paper bag. With a sad smile, she takes out a bouquet from the bag and sets it in front of the tombstone.
Queen of the Night tulips.
“How?” I ask.
“A scary someone sent me a text and told me you were here.”
She hands over her phone.
On it is a message from Ren, telling her how he lied to me, how he’s part of the Triads and was sent to kill me, how he infiltrated my life as Reaper and Ghostface.
Unknown number:
She’s not eating lunch again. I’m worried. I know you want to kill me. Fine. But before you do, check on her. She’s at the cemetery, and she’ll need company.
Aria is brave. Strong. Keeps everything bottled up. I have no right to ask this, but I am asking anyway. Please look after her. Tell her none of this is her fault. Tell her she deserves better than what I gave her. She deserves the world. I’ll keep her safe from a distance. But please…go to her.
And if you bring flowers, get Queen of the Night tulips. It’s her favorite.
After this is all over and she’s safe, you can come kill me.
A snort tumbles out of me.
My gaze darts to her, finding her lips twitching as well despite the anger in her eyes.
“It’s hard to hate him, isn’t it?” she mutters.
I nod.
“So, what are you going to do?” Scarlett pulls me to her side.
“I was so angry. I told him I didn’t want to see him again.” I hug Scarlett tightly. “But I miss him, Scar. It feels ridiculous saying it out loud, but I miss him so much. He was the only person who understood me.”
She pats my back.
“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
“I like to watch horror movies.” A smile strains on my face as I pull back. “Didn’t think I’d live in one.”
“You’ll get through this. Lana and I will be here for you.”
Warmth seeps into my chest. I’m thankful for my girls, who would drop everything for me without hesitation.
“Do you think he really killed Blake?” she asks.
That’s the question that’s bothered me the most. I know it should matter less than it does. Ren lied to me. He intended to kill Blake. Blake died. Those are hard facts. That should be enough.
But there’s a secret part of me that shows up when the world quiets, when I can’t drown myself with work.
If Ren didn’t kill Blake, would you be able to forgive him?
That little voice inside me yearns to say yes.
“I don’t know,” I finally reply. “There are so many holes in his story. And he was injured. Dying. I don’t know how much of his memory is real.”
Slowly, I face Scarlett. “But what does this make me? Selfish? Someone who still misses a cold-blooded killer who possibly indirectly killed her fiancé? What the hell is wrong with me?”
“Nothing. You’re human.” Scarlett fishes a drink out of her bag and wraps my fingers around it. “What happened in the past doesn’t take away from who Ren was to you. Two things can be true at the same time.”
Carefully, I take a sip.
Chamomile tea. Soothing.
“For what it’s worth, I might not like scary stories the way you do,” Scarlett says, “but Ren doesn’t strike me as a guy who loves easily.”
“Love?” My heart jumps.
“He’s cold, Aria.” She smiles. “We’ve known him for…two years now? I still don’t know his last name.”
I scoff. I don’t either. But somehow, that doesn’t seem to matter.
Scarlett continues, “He keeps to himself. He’s dangerous, and now I know he’s a Triad assassin. Do you think a man like that would bring you breakfast, play chess with you at night, and keep saving your life if you mean nothing to him?”
“Maybe it’s just guilt.”
I think back to his heated kisses and how he held me in the dark, like he never wanted to let go.
“That’s for you to decide,” she says. “I can do a reading in Arcana for you if you like. I got a new deck.”
I groan and bite back a smile. “Not another tarot reading.”
“Don’t knock it until you try it.” Scarlett grins and tucks a curl of hair behind her ear. “You’re confused, anyway. Might as well add more confusion…or clarity.”
My lips twitch, and I nudge her shoulder. “Thank you.”
“What are friends for?” She beckons me to follow her. “Come, Lana is baking orange marmalade cookies at the café. Let’s go back before she burns the place down.”
Chuckling, I turn toward the exit.
But as I pass by Blake’s gravestone, I stop, a movement catching my eye.
The delicate petals of the black tulips ripple as a breeze blows by.
“I still don’t understand how he knows my favorite flowers,” I say, more to myself than to Scarlett.
Few people do. Heck, even Blake didn’t remember.
Then my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I take it out.
A new email notification flashes on the screen. I pull it up.
To: thebookishnurse@
From: sunflowersandhearts@
Subject: Do you remember?
Don’t cry. You deserve sunlight. And you will get it soon.
Below the message is a simple photo.
A bouquet of sunflowers on a white background.
The world spins.
My phone crashes to the ground.