Page 117

“What’s going on between you and Lexy? And don’t bother denying it because it’s obvious. The random meal changes, canceling meetings, asking me where she was at when we were clubbing? And don’t get me started with this Project Dreamer naming business.”

I grit my teeth and look away. My sister is too damn perceptive.

“You love her, don’t you? Were you part of her missing four years, Ethan?”

I don’t answer her.

Despite my efforts to recreate our love story, Alexis’s beautiful eyes are blank, not a flicker of recognition in them.

If anything, there’s wariness.

I don’t miss how she’s in pain whenever she has those visions, or even when I’m too close to her.

LikeIam causing her pain.

“Ethan, are these visions memories? Why is the past so painful?”

I want to scream at the top of my lungs. As much as I want my Nova to stare at me like I’m everything again, seeing her in agonygutsme. I’d much rather flay myself with knives than witness her go through this horrendous journey.

So, I told myself to stay away.

Twenty-four.

The words she wrote to me in her latest email appear behind my eyes. Words I’ve memorized—down to every comma and period—just like every email she’s sent me this year.

For the past decade, I not only grieved the loss of the woman I love, but also my confidant, pen pal, and journal partner.

The woman who inspired me to write poetry again.

To:[email protected]

From:[email protected]

Subject: Missing Pieces

Dearest Polaris,

I’ve found my haven thanks to you. It’s a library as well—perhaps we are kindred spirits. There’s a certain peace in surrounding myself with books and feeling hope in the air. The place is filled with stories—people who’ve gone through unspeakable tragedies but have found their way to the other side.

When they left this earth, they carved their mark on its history.

It makes me feel my problems are minuscule.

Can I tell you a secret?

Ever since I woke up, there’s something missing inside me. Not just my memories, but the physical sensation of a hole in my chest. The spot above my heart aches at random moments. Sometimes, it’ll be when I hear a certain phrase or when I’m staring at my lucky hummingbird earrings, other times it’ll be from a flashing vision, images I’m not even sure if they’re real.

I can’t trust my mind.

But I think my heart is trying to tell me something.

Do you think there’s someone out there who can tell me what those missing pieces are? Someone who can find them for me? Is it worth looking for this person?

Yours,

Alexis

When I read her email, I had to physically restrain myself from bolting out the door to find her. To tell her those missing pieces were of me. Us.