Page 42 of Somewhere Without You

Forty

I sat on the edge of the bed, reading James’s letter again and again until the ink blurred into indistinct swirls and the words lost their shape.

I hardly knew this man, but I couldn’t deny the familiar pull between us, no matter how crazy it made me feel. Everything about this was insane. Then again, so is writing to someone who died over a century ago, but here we were.

Still, I couldn’t shake the sense that James was right. That somehow, impossibly, I did know him. Not in memory, but in the marrow of me. In a place that didn’t reason with logic or time.

I set the letter down, then picked it up again.

My soul knows you. I’ve held you in a way this life does not remember.

The words sliced through me.

I pictured Logan—his hands tracing over my body, the heat of his mouth against mine. Guilt surged so sharply in my gut I thought I might be sick.

This was crazy. All of it. How had I found myself needing to justify feelings that had no place in reality? James didn’t exist. Not anymore. He was a ghost.

Logan was here. He was real. He was alive.

And yet. . .

I couldn’t deny the pull I felt every time a new letter appeared. Or the quickening of my pulse at the sight of my name written in James’s hand. The unshakable feeling that the life I was living without him was somehow. . . incomplete. Like I was reading someone else’s story.

I refolded James’s letter and set it gently on the nightstand. He said he’d be gone a few days—maybe that would be enough time for me to clear my head.

But what if it was too late by then?

I grabbed my phone and dialed Katherine without hesitation. Fuck the risk. Fuck Jackson. He already knew where I was and I wasn’t about to continue letting him decide who I could talk to, and when.

The line rang twice, then went straight to voicemail.

“This is Katherine. Leave a message.”

I closed my eyes. “Kat, it’s me. I need you. Call me back.”

I hung up and started pacing, the phone still clenched in my hand. My eyes flicked between the folded letter and the mirror in front of me.

A bruise bloomed beneath my right eye, a swirl of violet and indigo. I reached up, touching it gently—and then I smiled.

This bruise didn’t make me feel small or powerless. It didn’t make me feel cheap or weak. But instead it reminded me that I was a woman worth loving. And that I too, deserved to be happy.

I re-dialed Katherine but again, it went straight to voicemail.

Damn it.

I needed to talk to someone— anyone who wouldn’t look at me like I’d completely lost it.

Winston let out a sharp bark from the doorway.

“Hold on, I’m thinking,” I said, glancing up at him.

Then it clicked.

Danielle. A grin spread across my face. “Winston, you’re an absolute genius!”

Like Gran, she was weird, and wild, and more open-minded than anyone I knew. If I told her about the letters, about James and Logan, she’d listen. She might call me crazy but she’d do it with a smile and most importantly, not from a padded room.

I wrapped my arms around Winston, still lingering in the doorway. He stood perfectly still, ears perked, head tilted in that impossibly wise way only dogs could manage.

I pointed a finger at him. “No squirrels this time, got it?”

By the time we finally reached the shelter, I was drenched in sweat. The sun was blazing overhead, and the humidity was somehow even worse than yesterday.

A chorus of barking rose above the jingle of the front bell, and I heard Dani’s footsteps hurrying down the hallway.

“Sorry about that,” she said, suddenly appearing. “I was just—oh my god. What the hell happened to you?”

“We. . . it’s. . .” I panted. “Winston and I. . . we walked.”

Beside me, Winston collapsed onto the cool floor, his tongue lolling out in exhaustion.

“You walked all the way here?” she asked, grabbing a bowl for Winston and handing me a water bottle from behind her desk.

I dumped some on my face before chugging the rest. Once my lungs stopped wheezing, I wiped the sweat from my forehead and managed a half-smile.

“Someone slashed my tires,” I said, waving my hand to fan myself. “Among other things.”

“Other things?” she echoed, refilling Winston’s bowl as he drained it. “What kind of other things?”

Once I was sure I could speak without gasping, I gave her a quick recap of the night before—including everything involving Logan.

“Damn,” she said. “People really don’t like you much, huh?”

“Yeah. . . not exactly,” I mumbled.

She gave a low whistle. “That bad?”

“If you think carving the word ‘SLUT’ into the side of my car is ‘bad,’ then yeah, I’d say it’s pretty awful.”

Dani leaned against the desk with her arms crossed, eyes narrowed like she was trying to solve a puzzle. “You gonna tell me who did it?”

I shrugged, though the movement felt like lifting a bag of wet cement. “I think. . . I think it was Jackson. I’m pretty sure he’s the one who threw that rock through my window, too.”

“Your crazy piece of shit ex?”

“Not technically an ex yet. But yeah, that one.”

“Yikes.” She uncrossed her arms, walked over, and gave Winston a gentle scratch behind the ears. “And you still walked here?”

I nodded. “I needed to talk to you.”

“Sounds serious,” she said, straightening.

I drew in a breath before letting it out slowly. “Remember when you told me you thought Magnolia House was rumored to be haunted?”

“Yeah. . .” Her green eyes sharpened. “Wait—did something happen?”

“Sort of,” I admitted. “Honestly, I don’t even know how to say this without sounding completely unhinged, but. . . here goes.”

I spent the next half hour explaining everything. The letters, the stupid, impulsive decision to write back. My complicated history with Logan. When I finally finished, I handed her the photograph I’d stolen from the Charleston library—bracing myself as she studied it.

She didn’t speak right away. She just stood there, staring at it like she wasn’t sure it was real.Then, slowly, she exhaled through her nose and ran a hand through her short hair.

“Okay,” she said finally. “That’s. . . a lot.”

I blinked. “Wait. So you believe me?”

“I’ve seen enough weird shit not to rule anything out,” Dani said, handing me the photo back. “Can’t say you have bad taste in men, though. He’s hot.”

I rolled my eyes. “He doesn’t exist. ”

“Obviously he does if you’re talking to him,” she argued. “Maybe not here, not now, but somewhere, there’s a very fine man—or two—pining after you. At least, that’s what it sounds like to me.”

I shot Dani a pointed look.

She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Personally, I’d keep both. It’s not considered cheating if one of them is technically dead.”

“This is crazy,” I said, my voice a little shaky. “I sound insane.”

“No,” she said firmly, stepping closer. “You sound like someone who’s been through hell and is still trying to make sense of it.”

I let out a dry laugh. “So what, you think I’ve been writing love letters to a ghost?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “Or maybe it’s someone you’re connected to—like from a past life or something.”

I stared at her. “Is that actually a thing?”

“Absolutely,” she said, making her way behind the desk and sinking into the chair. From somewhere down the hall, Henry appeared, looking just as dissatisfied as the day I met him.

“Your soul’s just energy,” she continued, scooping him into her lap. “When the body dies, that energy has to go somewhere. Think of it like, spiritual recycling.”

I studied her. “So, reincarnation?”

“Exactly. Maybe you and this James guy have done this before—been something to each other in another life. I’ve never heard of soulmates reconnecting this way, but hey, stranger things have happened.”

I sat with that for a second, my thoughts spinning. “And what about Logan?”

She looked down at Henry, stroking his fur absently. “What about him?”

“I mean, where does he fit in? If James and I have this whole soul-connection thing, then what does that make Logan?”

Dani shifted slightly in her seat. “Wherever you want him to fit. Soulmates aren’t always romantic. You can have more than one. Hell, I’ve had twelve in this lifetime alone. Some were partners, some friends, one was definitely my dog.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“What?” she said, grinning. “He was emotionally available and always happy to see me. What more can you ask for?”

“Okay. . .” I said warily. “I came in here worried you’d think I was crazy, but now I’m starting to wonder if you are.”

Dani smiled. “That’s because it is crazy—but just because something is crazy, doesn’t make it any less real.”

I thought of Gran and her so-called spiritual nonsense that turned half the town against us. I thought of Papa’s rocks, and the nights Katherine and I would lie in bed, listening to Gran whispering to someone who wasn’t there.

What if she hadn’t been crazy like everyone said? What if she was just more open in a world full of people too scared—or too stubborn, to see beyond what made them feel safe?

The phone rang on Dani’s desk.

“Harrison County Animal Shelter, how can I help you?” she answered, her voice tight. “Uh huh. . . Are you kidding me? Okay, but you said that last time. I understand, but what am I supposed to do until then? Fine. Whatever.”

She slammed the phone down hard and Henry leapt off her lap. Winston stirred beside me, barely lifting his head—too drained to even pretend he cared about chasing the cat.

“Everything okay?” I asked, tightening the leash just in case he changed his mind.

Dani pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s the damn supplier.

I’ve been out of dog food for days. Someone donated a bag, thank god, but it barely covered anything.

And now this asshole ”—she snapped the word at the phone like someone might still be listening—“says he can’t get here until next week. ”

“I can go get it,” I offered.

Dani looked up from her desk, brow raised. “You walked all the way here. I’m not sending you right back out there on foot. And besides, I need more than you can carry.”

I glanced out the window at the white Jeep Cherokee parked out front. “What if I take your car?”

She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Come on,” I said. “You helped me, let me return the favor.”

After a pause, she sighed. “Alright. But be careful. I’m already pushing my luck with the brakes.”

“No hard stops. Got it.” She tossed me the keys, and I caught them midair. “Mind if I leave him here?” I asked, gesturing to Winston.

We both looked down at him, sprawled out and snoring at my feet.

Dani grinned. “I don’t think you could get that dog to move even if you dangled a ribeye in front of him.”

I turned to head out, the door jingling as I stepped into the sun, setting off another round of chaotic barking behind me.