First Love: A Superbundle Boxed Set of Seven New Adult Romances (175 page)

As Angel sleeps, I’m left alone with my thoughts. I wish I could put my finger on why, but something has me on edge, telling me not to get too comfortable. After I found her letter, it was easier to see that her going to the farm wasn’t her leaving me. But I don’t know where we go from here. I’m not sure I can stand the thought of her out at the farm without me after everything that happened to her there, if she ever wants to go there again. And she made it quite clear she didn’t want to live with me yet. Will that have changed now, or will she want to find somewhere else to run to?

At last I fall into a fitful sleep that I desperately need. When I open my eyes again, Angel is propped up in bed, staring at me.
 

I can already see the apology in her eyes, and it clenches around my heart like a python squeezing away my hope. She’s leaving me. I know it.

“Don’t do this, Angel!” I shoot to my feet, taking two quick strides to the bed. “Don’t do this.” I’ll get down on my knees and beg if it makes a difference.

“I need to go home—”

I turn away from her, unable to let her see me break. Because that’s what I’m doing. Breaking. “How could you leave me again? After everything we’ve been though?” If she says she needs space, I’m going to lose my shit. The last time she needed space she ended up out at the farm and attacked. I know I’m conveniently ignoring the fact that my own stalker tendencies helped lead them to her, but I just can’t swallow that chunk of self-loathing right now.

“Sit down, shut up, and listen to me for a minute.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, and I whirl toward her, shocked and maybe a bit turned on. There is that strong, feisty Angel I love. But why the fuck does she only let me see her when she’s trying to break my heart? I sink back into the chair.

“When I came here, I was running away. I wasn’t running to you, for you. You were my only option, not a freely made choice. You were my desperation, not my decision.”

So what? The sulking five-year-old within me is in full-on temper-tantrum mode. “But you still came, which was what mattered.”

“I know. But you’re always going to wonder if I’m going to be looking for other options. You’ll never stop expecting me to leave.”

I can’t believe this shit. “So you’re leaving me, because I think you’re going to leave. How does that make any fucking sense?”

“I’m leaving you so I can come back.”

Wait, what? “Then why not just stay!”

“Because I need to do this so we can move our relationship forward. I want to feel like you trust me, and I want you to see, firsthand, that sometimes when people leave, they come back. I came to you for refuge, Arion, not a relationship. As Angel. But I’m not Angel, and I don’t want to pretend to be someone I’m not anymore. What we have, it’s too real for that. When I come back, it’s going to be as Tess, and it’s going to be for good.”

“For good?”

“All I’ve done lately is run away from the hard shit, and all you’ve done since I’ve gotten here is hold on too tight. Now’s the time to stop that before we end up hating each other.”

I want so much to believe her, but I’m not sure I can. There’s this happy, whole place where I’ll be healed enough to know she’s got to make her own choices, and I have to let her go if I want to keep her. But I’m just not sure I’m there yet. “How do I know you’ll come back?”
 

Angel smiles. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

Forty Nine

Tess

By the time I step off the plane, I’m pretty sure I’m an idiot. My mom’s arms fly around me, and she fusses against my hair. “Oh, my God, Tess, look at you. Don’t you ever scare me like this again, do you understand me, young lady?” My mom wanted to fly straight to Philadelphia as soon as she heard what happened, but I convinced her to meet me here instead. She’s developed a glowing tan, and underneath her worry I can see the trip to visit my aunt did her some good. Tiny wrinkles line her eyes, and I’m sure more of them are from me than from her students.
 

“I’m okay Mom, really.” I’m such a liar. My bruises will heal, but I’m not so sure about my heart. I miss Arion already. This seemed like such a good idea and the grown-up thing to do, but now I’m not so sure.

Mom pulls back to look at me and shakes her head. “You don’t look very okay.”

“They’re just bruises, Mom. They look worse than they feel, I promise. The doctor said I’ll be good as new in a few weeks.”

She just smiles a sad, knowing smile. “Oh, honey, I wasn’t talking about your bruises.”

That’s all it takes for the waterworks to start, and once they’ve begun, they don’t stop. I’m blubbering like an imbecile as Mom guides me to her car, and soon we’re stepping out of the airport beneath the blistering Arizona sun. The heat hits us as soon as we exit the doors, as if we just opened a giant oven, but even the familiar sunshine can’t warm the cold ache settled in the pit of my stomach. Even though I boarded the plane at six a.m. on the East Coast, it’s only just before nine here in Arizona, and the sun is brutal. I’ve always loved the desert landscape, but now it just makes me sad. The monotonous brown palette is as bleak as my world, with the color of Arion sucked out of it.

As much as I’ve lost—and maybe gained—I know I’m not the only one who is hurting.

“Can we stop by the hospital? I need to see Johanna.”

Mom presses her lips into a thin line, but she nods, taking a quick right turn.

As Mom navigates the downtown Tucson streets I’m struck by just how different they are from Philly. There, the city was obviously organic, spreading, changing and growing over time, old and new becoming one. Tucson, on the other hand, has persevered, persisting as a resolute reminder of its history. While new generations come and go, the city remains unchanging.
 
If I close my eyes, I can easily imagine that the Tucson of today looks exactly like the Tucson of my Abuela’s day.

So then, why does everything feel so strange? If the city hasn’t changed, have I?

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Mom reaches over and squeezes my hand as she puts the car in park in front of the hospital.

I take a deep, shuddery breath. “No.” I think I need to do this on my own.

Memories of my childhood shadow me through the halls. There’s the time I broke my arm. The week I spent here with the flu. Stitches when I fell and busted open my lip. But on each of those occasions, I wasn’t half as scared as I am today.

I pause in Johanna’s doorway. Her head is tilted to the side, facing the wide window on the opposite wall, and I think she might be asleep. An empty chair guards the corner closest to the door. Ignoring the temptation to flee, using the excuse that I’ll just come back when she’s awake, I tiptoe toward it. My shoe squeaks on the parquet floor, and Johanna turns her head, taking me in with quiet chocolate eyes.

“Wow. You look worse than I feel.”

“They’re just bruises. I’ll heal.” My eyes start to take a quick inventory of her bruises, but her easy smile distracts me. “Jo—”

She shakes her head then winces. “Don’t. They’re just bruises. Like you said, I’ll heal.”

“But if I hadn’t been so stupid…” Her bruises are my fault, and she has to know that.

Narrowing her eyes, she fixes me with a hard stare. “Do you know what it was like?”

No, I don’t. I knew why I was being attacked. For Jo, it must have been a complete surprise. She didn’t deserve that. “I’m sure it hurt.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what?”

“It was agony. Every day I woke up wondering if that day would be the day I’d finally have to go to your funeral. Each day I went to bed, wondering what else I could have done to make you see you weren’t alone—that all you had to do was trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

I gasp, leaning against the armrest of the chair, afraid I’m going to collapse into a puddle of guilt. I can’t meet Johanna’s eyes. “I did trust you. I
do
trust you.”

“Then why wouldn’t you talk to me?!” For the first time since I’ve gotten here, she actually sounds angry. Lord knows she has every right to be.

“Because I was trying to protect you. I didn’t know what Nick would do if he thought you were a threat.” I finally turn back to look at her, gesturing around the hospital room. “I was afraid of exactly this.”
 

Her expression softens. “Come here.”

Shaking from a heady combination of relief and remorse, I trudge to the bed. She waves me closer until I’m leaning a few inches above her. Her arms envelop me as the comfort of our friendship soothes my heart.
 

“I may never have liked him, but I’ve always loved you, girl. You’re my best friend. You and me, we stick together. Got it?”

“Got it,” I mumble. I can’t believe she forgave me so easily, just like that. But I shouldn’t have been surprised, that’s just how she is. We chat for almost an hour. She wants to know all about Arion and Philly, and I spare no detail. When her eyes grow heavy, I say goodbye, promising to call her tomorrow.

“Did you have a nice visit?” Mom asks cautiously as I slide into her passenger seat.

“Yeah. Sorry I took so long.” I snap the seat belt in place, staring out the window.
 

Mom pats her giant purse that fills the console between us. “No worries. I had a book.”

The trip to the house is over quickly, and I follow Mom inside. Walking into my old bedroom is surreal. Everything is the same. Everything but me.

The wallpaper is peeling by the door, and the sliding closet door still hangs awkwardly on its track. My old patchwork comforter is still draped over the bed, guarded by my favorite stuffed dog from when I was a kid. It reminds me of Molly, and I wonder how she’s doing. From what I’ve been told, she helped lead them to me. There are very few personal items left in my room. I took most of them with me when I moved in with Nick, leaving only my furniture behind, since Nick had his own. This room is like a shell of my past, empty and barren.

I thought coming here would help me piece myself back together so I could return to Arion whole and strong. I thought wrong.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I’m not sure when Mom stepped into the doorway behind me; I was so lost in thought I didn’t hear her. Her head is tilted to the side, and her salt-and-pepper hair lay against her shoulder. She never dyes it, saying why hide who she is. Mom claims we are a product of our experiences and with age comes more experiences. So what does that make me? “How do you find yourself when you’re lost?”

Mom smiles. “You figure out what matters most, and you navigate toward it. It will guide you home.”
 

Home. I thought coming back here, to my home, was what I needed to do so I could find myself. But maybe I was never lost, only misguided.
 

“There’s coffee in the kitchen if you want some,” Mom says, lightly patting me on the shoulder before heading down the hall.

Coffee makes me think of the cafe and how second chances are never a guarantee. I shake my head. “There’s something else I think I need to do. Can you give me another ride?”

Fifty

Arion

I’ve talked myself out of chasing after her at least five times. And that’s only in the last five minutes.

I want to trust her, I really do. She said she’s coming back, and I know at the very least she believes she will. But I’m pretty sure my Mom thought she’d come back, too. People’s plans change, and the only thing certain is what is right in front of you. Trying to keep it light while driving her to the airport this morning was utter fucking torture.

I’m not sure if I should feel proud of myself for surviving day one or not. Fifteen hours and counting. I can do this.

Who am I kidding? I won’t last a week.

But I have to. If I go after her, it will mean I don’t trust her. And she’s right about one thing, relationships should be built on trust. I’m not sure what possesses me to grab my phone and call my dad, but I have a sudden burning need for answers and I think he’s the only one who can give them to me.
 

Their cruise is supposed to be in port today—and I only know that because I had to check the schedule when the FBI was asking about it. Their questions were endless.

“Axel? Is everything okay?”

“No, Dad. Nothing’s okay. Not really.”

“Is this about that girl? Did you knock her up?”

I almost laugh, because Dad doesn’t seem bothered by the thought, just curious. I’m not honestly that bothered by the thought, either, but I know Angel isn’t anywhere near ready for that yet. But it’s a nice mental image to tuck away for someday. “No, it’s not that. But I need to ask you something. Why didn’t Mom come back? Why’d she leave?”

“I’m not sure that’s something that concerns you, Axel. Your mother made her choices.” Dad suddenly sounds tired.

“Please don’t brush me off about this again, Dad. I need to know, because I’m so afraid Angel will leave like Mom that I think I might have driven her away.” My dad and I have always been able to talk about anything and everything—except Mom. He liked to pretend she’d just never existed.

Dad lets out a long sigh, and I think he’s going to refuse. Then at last he clears his throat. “Axel, your mother tried to come back for you, but I wouldn’t let her because of my pride. I was having an affair, and she left because of it. She fell in love with her childhood sweetheart while she was at home with her mom, and when she came back, she told me she wanted a divorce and joint custody of you. I had money, she didn’t, and I knew she wouldn’t be able to fight me on it, so I hurt her the only way I could.”

I’m suddenly not so sure I want to hear the rest.

“I told her that you were my son, and if she wanted to divorce me, she didn’t get you. I wasn’t willing to share you, because I wasn’t willing to watch her live her life with the man she fell in love with. It didn’t matter that I was the one who drove her away, I just couldn’t stand the fact that she left me. So I kept her away.”

“And she just accepted that?” Wasn’t I worth fighting for?

“She tried to fight me on it for a bit, but it would have drained every penny she had available to her and more. Don’t blame her son, blame me. I’ve made a lot of mistakes over the years, but that might be the biggest one. Don’t let my choices cause you to lose the girl you love.”