Page 35

TREY

“Hey, you.”

It’s exactly seven thirty. She didn’t make me wait for her this time. I wasn’t even sure if she was coming tonight. When I walked her to her car last week, I weaseled out of asking her because I’d rather live on the hope that she might be coming than go through a whole week knowing she won’t.

“Do you greet me like that because you’re trying to avoid calling me Ari but you can’t call me Arella either?” My perceptive woman lays her blanket over the grass, then sits on it.

“How would you like me to greet you?”

“You could try saying, ‘Hey, Ari,’ or ‘How’s it going, Ari?’”

My face remains impassive as I plant myself next to her. “I think I prefer Hey, you. ”

“Try calling me Ari, just once.”

Fuck no. “Why?”

“Because I want to prove to you that it won’t kill you.”

Maybe not physically . . .

“Just say something simple like ‘Hey, Ari. How’s your day?’”

To appease her, I force it out. “Hey, Ari . How’s your day?” That name sounds foreign coming from my lips. The only times I ever called her Ari was when I was introducing her to someone new. Even when I talked about her to my bandmates, I usually referred to her as my girl .

“You know what? That sounded awkward. You should just call me Arella.”

“But you always correct me.” And it hurts like hell every time.

“I won’t correct you anymore. From now on, you have my full permission to call me Arella.”

I lock eyes with her to check if she’s serious. Her sweet smile doesn’t falter, making my insides throw some balloons in the air. If she’s going to allow me to call her Arella, that means she’s letting her walls down around me. Is it because I’ve been letting mine down around her?

Last week, I was the most open with her since her memories were scrubbed. I told her about my biggest regret and my addictions. In turn, I got to hear that the first time she remembers meeting me, she could feel how protective I was of her. I still am, baby.

I also found out that no one knows she comes here to see me. I don’t know why that makes me feel so good—it just does. It’s almost like this place is something only she and I share and, without saying it out loud, we’ve agreed to keep it a secret.

That means she puts a lot of trust in me. If she thought I had intentions to hurt her, she wouldn’t come here, and she especially wouldn’t do it without telling someone where she is and who she’s with. I plan to do everything in my power to keep her trust.

“Do you think you’re up for some more questions today?” Arella pulls the box of deep-thought-revealing cards from her purse.

I sit up straighter. “Sure.”

“Ooh. Is that enthusiasm I hear? I would have thought you’d dread this game because it makes you open up.”

“It makes you open up too, so I’m okay with it. I don’t think you would have told me about the way I made you feel when you first met me otherwise.”

She purses her lips together and thinks. “Yeah, probably not.”

“So the real question is, Do you think you’re up for some more questions today?”

With a grin, she plucks a card from the box and reads it. “What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do?”

“Whoa!” I dramatically jerk my head back. “ This is how we’re gonna start tonight off?”

“I can pick a lighter question, and we can come back to this one?”

“Yeah, let’s do that. I’m not ready to dive into something that heavy yet.”

She sets the card aside and plucks out another one. “What do you think is your best quality?”

“Easy. I have none. Next question.”

“What? You have lots of great qualities.”

I scoff. “Name one.”

“You can play lots of instruments.”

“Those are skills, not qualities.”

“Learning an instrument, especially as many as you have at the level you can play them, means you have patience, determination, and a good work ethic.”

“Or it means I grew up without any friends, so I had nothing else better to do with my time.”

She rolls her eyes at me. It’s something I’ve missed in our time apart. “Fine. Here’s another one: You’re generous with your money.”

“That’s because I don’t think I deserve it, so I’d rather give it away than spend it on myself.”

“You’re protective of Liz, which means you’re caring.”

“I’m protective of Liz because she’s all I have. If anything happens to her, I’ll have no one. My protection is selfish.”

She rolls her eyes again. “The next time you see your therapist, you should ask her to psychoanalyze why you feel the need to downplay all your good qualities.”

“Eh, anything good about me is because I’m self-preserving or it was forced upon me due to situations out of my control.”

“Don’t you think you have some good qualities if someone as amazing as Liz chooses to be best friends with you?”

“Nah. Liz is the type of person who thinks she can fix people. I’m an ongoing project for her.”

The first and only time I ever said that to Liz, she got really offended.

She claims we became best friends because we bonded over shared trauma.

That may have been the surface reason, but deep down, there’s a part of her who befriended me because she saw a broken man who needed fixing.

I bet she didn’t realize how much fixing I’d need.

“Why don’t we list off your good qualities instead?” I say, desperate to talk about anything except me. “For example, you’re strong, and kind, and you’re really good at baking.”

Arella slides the box of questions toward me. “According to you, being good at doing something is a skill , not a quality.”

I pick up the box. “In that case, being good at baking means you’re creative, and you’re really good with your hands.” If she was the Arella who remembers me, I’d make a dirty joke right now.

“Did you know I’m starting my own bakery soon?”

“Really?” Owning a bakery is one of the first things Arella told me she wanted in life. She used to talk my ear off about what colors she wanted the walls to be and what she was going to name it.

“I’ve already written out my business plan, and I hired a woman to help me create a logo and marketing plan.

My next step is getting a loan for a location.

I’ve got two places in mind. The first one is in a great area, but the space is smaller than I want and needs remodeling.

The second spot is a little bigger. It only needs some minor cosmetic fixes, but the location is terrible. ”

“Why don’t you find a place that’s the size you want in a location you want that only needs the right paint color?”

“Because I’ve already been to six different banks and I don’t qualify for enough financing to?—”

“I’ll pay for it.” I already know she’s gonna turn me down.

“No, and don’t you dare show up next week with a check, either. This bakery is important to me. I want to do this on my own.”

Of course she does. Arella used to tell me that Nathan only bought her things to be able to hold them against her later. I’d never do that to her, but because of him, she feels the need to make purchases without anyone’s help. I respect that she sticks to that, even though it’s frustrating for me.

“If you ever change your mind, my offer never expires.” I slide my finger over the top of the cards and select one from the middle of the box. “What is one of your happiest memories?”

Arella tilts her head back as she thinks. “My happiest memory...”

I prepare to fake a smile in case her dude gets mentioned. She doesn’t mention him often, or at all, really. I’m not sure if that’s because she’s not thinking of him while she’s here or if it’s for my benefit. Either way, I’m not complaining.

“My happiest memory is probably when I first moved to LA,” she says. “My grandparents are super protective of me, so I had never been that far from them before. Moving was scary, but it also felt freeing. What about you?”

Almost all of my happiest memories were made with her. How do I pick just one? “Could I share two memories with you?”

Arella perks up like I’m giving her a gift wrapped in sparkly paper and fancy ribbons. “Please.”

“It was hard for me to feel happy again after my parents died, but the first time I felt true joy after their death was the first time I performed for a crowd with my band. We were so new that we weren’t even Flames in the Night yet.

We just called ourselves the Five. We performed at a bar to people who weren’t even listening to us, but I didn’t care.

It was the way we all worked together so seamlessly, and our harmonies just felt right.

My second happiest memory was my first kiss with my first love. ”

Arella waits a second before she circles a hand in the air. “You’re not going to give me details about that second one?”

“What details do you want?”

“Whatever you’re willing to share. I just feel like I got a whole backstory with the first one and nothing with the second.”

“There’s not much to share. We were in my kitchen, and she was teaching me how to bake cookies. After we got them into the oven, we playfully threw flour at each other. It got so heated that we ended up kissing for the first time. That’s it.”

That’s not it.

I could tell her so much more, but it feels weird to talk to her about our first kiss.

Arella’s eyes go wide as her mouth opens slightly. A thought has crossed her mind, but I can’t tell what. Even if I was a Mind Reader, I still wouldn’t know.

“How many times have you been in love?” she asks before I can ask her what she’s thinking.

“Just once.”

“But you said first love . I assume that means there’s a second.”

“Nope. It’s just been the one.” I don’t think I’ll ever fall in love again, nor do I want to.

According to the z-net, it’s possible to fall in love with people who aren’t your soul mate.

It doesn’t make the love any less real; it just means you’re in love with someone who isn’t a perfect match. I don’t want that.

“I’ve been in love twice,” she says.

Technically, she’s been in love three times, but to her, I don’t count. Is her love with Caleb even real if it’s something a Scrubber forced into their minds? It must be real if they’re still together.

For the rest of the evening, Arella and I take turns pulling out more cards and talking until the sun is gone and it’s time for her to go.

Like I did the previous four weeks, I ask if I can walk her to her car. Like usual, she says yes.

Side by side, we head away from our tree, still talking, still laughing, and still enjoying each other’s company. I think about asking her if she’s planning to come back next week, but don’t. I won’t be able to handle it if she says no .

When we reach her car, I try not to let the sinking feeling in my stomach get to me.

I feel this way whenever it’s time to watch her leave.

As an attempt to prolong the high, I always head back to our tree and replay every moment from that night in my mind before I leave for the airport. I plan to do that again tonight.

Arella stops at her car and turns to face me. “You know what I just realized? We never went back to that first card I pulled out.”

I was hoping she’d forget about that. “What was the question again?”

“What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do?”

“Oh. Why don’t you go first?”

“The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do was go through a three-year-long abusive relationship and have to find myself again and relearn that I’m strong.”

“You’ve done it. You are strong.” One of the two strongest people I know.

“Thank you. That means a lot. Now you answer.”

“The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do is...” let you go. I’ve been keeping my answers to these cards pretty vague. Either that or I tell her a version of the truth and hope she doesn’t ask for more. I’m not sure how to spin this one to avoid saying too much.

Arella stares up at me, patiently waiting for me to finish what I started.

It takes me another moment. “Um, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do is what I’m doing now.”

“Which is?”

I knew she wasn’t gonna accept that answer. “Which is... ya know, living. Moving on. Letting go of the past and stepping into the future. Sometimes I feel like I gave up, but Liz tells me I did the right thing.”

Arella cocks her head at me, trying to read between the lines and figure out the deeper meaning behind my words. “Liz seems to know what she’s talking about, so I trust that she’s right.”

“Yeah, but,” I say, staring at the gravel I’m standing on, “that doesn’t make it any less hard.”

She slides a tender hand up my chest and stops over my pec. “You’re so strong, Trey. And I see your strength growing with each smile you make. Just keep going.”

Every nerve in my body sparks to life. My skin tingles from where she trailed her hand up, and it’s on fire where she’s keeping her hand now.

I don’t move. I can’t move. I’m too afraid it’ll make her pull away. I want her to keep her hand on me for the rest of my life. If she does, I’ll die a happy man.