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I freeze.
"But whatever it is—-"
I start shaking my head.
"I can—-"
"You can't."It hurts to say the words, and it hurts even more to see the way Aidan's looking at me and think of what could've been. It hurts because I want so badly to think it's real.
But it's not.
I show him the necklace resting under my shirt, and the way his jaw clenches tells me Wyoming Keanu knows exactly what the ring hanging from it means.
Chapter Three
"GOOD...MORNING?" WHATstarts out as a cheerful greeting ends in an understandable note of concern, and I hastily muster up a smile when Bettina's gaze grows increasingly anxious as she watches me descend the last steps of the B&B's spiral staircase.
I can't blame her, really. I had hoped a long, relaxing shower would repair some of last night's damage, but my reflection on the mirror says otherwise.
Wyoming Keanu kept me up all night, and it totally shows. Think dark shadows under slightly puffy eyes, and a faintly red spot on the edge of my forehead that may or may not be the birth of a dreaded pimple. Honestly, I can't even remember the last time I've had acne problems. Maybe seven years ago? Or eight? Point is, that's how much he troubles me, and it's just...not...right!
I'm supposed to know better, but instead of making myself forget him I ended up doing the opposite, just tossing and turning in my bed while memories of our last moments together play endlessly in my mind.
When I showed him my ring last night, a part of me was expecting him to do either of two things: blow me off...or blow up in rage.
But instead he had said rather simply, "I'll see you tomorrow."
And that was it.
Four words that could've meant nothing or everything, and even though hours had already passed since I watched him drive away, those words still have me emotionally paralyzed.
I'm sure he knows what my ring means.
So why say those words?
I just don't get it. I just don't gethim.And while I know I should simply leave it at that and get on with my life...
"Good morning, Bettina." I beam widely at the younger girl as soon as I reach the reception desk, and Bettina's worried expression turns into one of relief.
"I hope you had a pleasant sleep, Ms. Edison."
"I did, absolutely," I have no qualms about lying. "And I'm sorry again for checking in so late—-"
Bettina quickly shakes her head. "We always welcome guests," she says firmly, "no matter what."
"That's so sweet of you." I take a deep breath after this, knowing that the time has come to find a way to steer the conversation towards...
"I'm just glad Chief Blackwood found you the way he did last night."
That.
"You must've been awful frightened," Bettina says earnestly, "when you were stuck in the snow like that—-"
"I was terrified," I hear myself admit.
"Even though it was just a snowstorm."
"Uh..." What is it with these people about snowstorms and blizzards? Weren't they the same freaking thing?