Faith extends a hand between us, and I catch it.
"Of course it will," she says, squeezing my hand gently before she lets me go.
The curiosity is killing me. I have to ask. "How is she?"
I regret it the second I say it. I shouldn’t show interest, it will only encourage Faith. We made a pact ten years ago: we don’t talk about Autumn. Now that pact is broken and I want to know everything.
"She flew in on a redeye early this morning. So, right now she's tired. But I bet she'd be up for a visitor later this afternoon." Faith’s face looks hopeful.
Is this woman trying to kill me? I can’t see Autumn. No way. She should know better than to encourage us to get together … but of course she doesn’t. She doesn’t know the hell I walked through with her daughter. Neither of us made it out of that fully alive.
My head shakes back and forth. An automatic response. "She doesn't want to see me, Faith."
I don’t want to see her either, but because Faith doesn’t know why we broke up, only that it was ugly, so I am trying to play it cool.
Faith lowers herself from the exam table and reaches for her purse, winding it over her shoulder. "Perhaps before I die one of you will finally tell me what happened between you two." There's an undercurrent of irritation in her tone.
My only response is a nervous chuckle. If Autumn hasn't told her mother yet, it means she doesn't want her to know. And after everything that happened, I can at least respect that.
"That's what I figured you'd do," Faith says tartly, and the laugh dies in my throat.
Through my lab coat I feel the warmth of her palm, and I turn toward it. Since I was fifteen Faith has been like a mother to me. My own mom left me and my dad when I was five, and when Autumn and I became friends, Faith welcomed me into her home. Soon I became Autumn's boyfriend. Faith treated me like a member of the family. We had family meals together, she listened to me gripe about the guys on the soccer team, and I knew I could go to her with anything. I don't know what would've happened to me without Faith's love and guidance. I was a flailing teenager, a good kid at my core, but my heart had been broken by the rejection of my own mother. Faith's presence and inherent mothering filled in the cracks in my heart.
Autumn may be in pain, knowing this is her mother's third dance with the devil that is cancer, but she doesn't have the market cornered. I'm hurting too.
Faith looks at me, hope plain on her face. "So, will you come by for dinner?"
Fuck no. Willingly walk into the lion’s den and see the woman who owned the scars on my heart?
No way.
"Tonight?" I ask nervously. Shit, it's hard to deny this sweet woman.
She nods. Dinner on Monday has become a ritual of ours, and I don’t have anything planned tonight because I assume I will be eating at her place. It started when she beat cancer the first time. I took her out for a celebratory dinner, and while we were at the restaurant, she'd commented on how nice it was to spend time with me away from her health issues. We'd decided then that we'd make it a weekly occurrence, and aside from illness and the odd vacation, we haven't missed a Monday. Last month I started mowing her lawns on Sunday. It was safe to say that if Autumn was living at her mom’s, I wouldn’t be able to avoid her without being rude to Faith, and that I would never do.
I sigh. "I don't know, Faith. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on."
Please, God, let me stay away. Let me resist the hold that Autumn has over my life.
A disappointed look creeps into her eyes, but she's quick to tuck it back.
Her upset makes me feel the need to amend my statement. "For now, at least. Give me a few days to catch up on work and I’ll see if I can stop by."
A few days to think up an excuse on why I could never go over to her house again was more like it. I could avoid Autumn forever, right? I’d just hire a private investigator to map her schedule and favorite stores and then I’d steer clear of them…
The strap on Faith's purse slips down her arm and she hoists it back up into place. "You’re going to see her sooner or later. Might as well rip the Band-Aid off." She winks at me as she says it.
Busted. Faith always has a way of reading my thoughts. She knows this isn’t about work.
My head tips back in silent laughter. "I'll keep that in mind." I watch her walk to the door. "See you soon," I say with a wave.
"Soon being the operative word, Owen." She gives me a motherly look, the kind with affection and warning rolled into one.
"Yes, ma'am." I couldn’t deny that woman her happiness, especially since the cancer was back. I’d eventually have to force myself to see the girl who demolished my heart and then go home and lick my wounds like any respectable man.
She slips through the door and I watch it slide into place, closing with a blunted thunk.
A deep breath escapes my chest. My fingers press into my eyes as images of Autumn parade through my mind.
Young, innocent Autumn the day I met her. Only fifteen.
Not-so-innocent Autumn the day I held her in my arms and we passed the point of no return.
Autumn, tears staining her face, as I said things I can't take back, no matter how much I regret them.
What would it be like to see her now? I have to admit, the idea is exhilarating and terrifying.
Would she turn me away? Invite me in? Throw her arms around me? Smack me across the face?
Excitement presses into the corners of my body. I could see Autumn again. Tonight, if I wanted to. In just a few short hours, I can have the reunion I've spent too much time envisioning. For years I thought of what I would say if I ran into her in town, what she would look like…
I pull my phone from my pocket and pull up Autumn's name.
All these years, I've kept the same number. I wanted to make sure she always had a way to reach me in case she needed me. I was a schmuck like that. I liked the pain apparently.
If I kept my number, maybe she has too.
My thumb hovers over the screen, then it drops down. I press her name. It's dialing.
Holy shit.
I actually did it. I was calling her.
I stare at the screen until I hear a faint “Hello” float into the air.
"Uh, hello," I say, bringing the phone to my ear.
What are you doing you idiot? She tore your heart in two and then popped it into the blender. She ghosted you on an epic level after three years together. HANG UP!
The excitement and trepidation bounding through my chest deflates like a popped balloon as I hear the voice say hello again. It's not Autumn. Even after all this time, her voice is burned into my soul.
I push on, because I don't want to hang up on this woman and I don't know what else to do. "May I speak to Autumn please?"
"No Autumn here," the woman answers, then hangs up.
My chin rests on the edge of my phone and I look out at the rest of the room.
She changed her number. She knew we were over. She fully let go.
I was the idiot who kept hope alive.
Chapter 3
Autumn
I'm woken from my nap by a smell that's as odd as it is comforting. Following my nose into the kitchen, I find onions sizzling in a pan. I rarely cook in the city, and now that I'm smelling something so typical of my mom's cooking, I feel homesick despite the fact that I am already home.