"I don't know. I want to tell her story. I want to write it down and get it out of my head. Beyond that, I'm not sure."
"Will you ever be able to let her go, Drake?"
"Let me ask you a question. If Kelsey isn't found, will you be able to let her go? Will you be able to move on?"
"Well, I haven't moved on from Melanie, so, no, I'll be stuck in another hellhole."
"Then you know my answer."
I set down my spoon as I sat back in my seat. "I'm tired, Drake, tired of spinning my wheels and getting nowhere, but then I feel guilty because the worst thing that's happened to me is being stuck. I don't know what Melanie went through. I don't know what my sister is going through. I'm sure it's awful. I can't feel sorry for myself. I can't be exhausted."
"Keep eating."
"You think that's going to help?"
He shrugged. "It won't hurt. Try the crab cake."
I put one of the crab cakes on my plate and then swirled a bite in a spicy sauce and popped it in my mouth. "Okay, that helped," I said as I swallowed. "I forgot how much I loved these. I like the little kick of pepper that your mother puts in. It always wakes me up."
"Good. I need you on your game."
"And I need you on your game, so you better eat, too."
"I will," he said, grabbing the other crab cake.
A few moments later, the server set down two plates of filet mignon with mashed potatoes and asparagus.
"Surf and turf," I said with appreciation. "Your mother is feeding us well."
"It's how she shows her love."
"She was always really nice to me. I wished she was my mom a million times." I took a breath, feeling a little emotional again. "I thought she probably came to hate me the way you did."
"Oh, no, Willow. My mother has a far more generous heart than I do. She never hated you. She knew you loved Melanie. She actually got angry with me for being so hard on you."
"I deserved it. If I'd been able to remember, it might have helped. If I'd never gotten so drunk, I might have been able to prevent what happened."
"I've played that 'if I'd done something different' game a lot. It doesn't get you anywhere. You should eat your steak before it gets cold."
I picked up my fork again, feeling surprisingly comfortable with Drake. I don't know when we'd gone from enemies to friends, but it seemed like we'd gotten to a different point in our relationship. Not that we had a relationship, I reminded myself. We were just working together to bring Kelsey home and get justice for Melanie.
As we finished our meal, Sylvie slid into the booth and gave me a questioning smile. "How was your food?"
"It was delicious," I replied. "It's the first good meal I've had since I came back. Thank you."
"I'm glad you liked it. I think my husband scared you earlier today, Willow, and I'm sorry about that." Sylvie gave me a regretful smile.
"I know he can have difficult moments."
"Yes, he can. Holt has been really good the last couple of years, though. I was thinking he'd finally found some footing, but as soon as talk of the wedding came about, and all the families began arriving, he got jittery. When your sister went missing, something in him snapped. He has been having trouble determining what's now and what's in the past."
"I'm sorry."
"Oh, please, Willow, don't apologize to me. I know what you and your family are going through. It's horrific, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone."
"It is awful," I agreed. "I feel guilty just sitting here having a meal when I don't know where my sister is."
"I know that feeling. Just smiling felt like a betrayal." Sylvie blew out a breath. "I heard about Carter Chadwick. That was another shocking piece of bad news. Do you know how he's doing?"
"He's in critical condition."
"That's terrible. Such a young man with a long, bright future ahead of him."
"How's Dad doing?" Drake interjected.
"Mitch took him for a hike along the Bell Trail. They got back an hour ago. Your dad said he was going to stay home and rest, that he felt calmer since he'd walked five miles."
"I'm glad he's feeling better. I should talk to him."
"Wait until tomorrow, honey. Hopefully, there will be some good news by then. Also, if he asks you about the book again…well, I hate to tell you to lie…"
"But you want me to lie," Drake finished.
She gave her son an apologetic smile. "You could just say you're not writing it right now."
"And if I write it?"
"Then you will have changed your mind, but he won't have to think about it and worry incessantly for the next several months or years."
"All right. I can do that."
"I know you're fighting hard for Melanie, Drake, and I don't want to stop you. I just want to protect your father's fragile mental state."
"I understand."
"Now, can I bring you some dessert?" Sylvie asked.
"I'm full," I said. "But thank you again for an amazing dinner."
"I'm good, too, Mom," Drake added.
"Then I better get back to work." Sylvie slipped out of the booth. "Willow, please tell your mother I'm thinking about her."
"I will." As Sylvie left, I turned my head toward the nearby window where rain was streaming against the panes of glass. The storm had arrived in full force.
"That doesn't sound good," Drake commented.
"No, it doesn't."
"Why don't you give it a little time before you go home? You don't want to drive in that."
"There's a line at the hostess stand. I think they need the table."
"We can go upstairs. You can look through my notes, see if anything jumps out at you."
More time alone with Drake in the place where we'd once made love—had sex, I amended quickly—was probably not the best idea. But I couldn't find the desire to run through the rain, drive home, and then wander around my house all night with no one I really wanted to talk to. It wasn't like there was any support I could give my parents or Brooklyn. They were all locked in their own version of hell. I'd be more useful helping Drake.
At least, that was the reason I was going with. I didn't want to admit that I'd started feeling close to him again, that I wanted to keep talking to him, that being with him was bringing back a piece of me I thought I'd lost.
"Okay, I'll come up for a bit." I didn't want to psychoanalyze my decision any further.
He looked happy with my decision. "Good. Let's go."
We slid out of the booth and headed up the stairs. We got into the apartment, I took off my jacket and tossed it on the chair. Despite my best intentions to just look at the police reports and focus on Melanie, my heart started beating faster as Drake removed his coat.
It was how it had started before, only then we'd been dripping wet. We'd laughed as we'd thrown our wet coats to the side. I'd pulled the band out of my hair, running my hand through my braid to pull it apart, to shake out the raindrops. And that's when I saw the look of desire in Drake's eyes. My seventeen-year-old heart had melted.