“She gave me a house.” The words come out without thought yet again.
I don’t know what it is about him, but my walls keep slipping and I find myself telling him things I’d never normally consider telling a someone I just met.
Maybe it’s because he doesn’t feel like a stranger to me at all.
His eyes widen in surprise, and just when I expect him to question me further, he brings out the line I was expecting earlier, when I told him that I paint.
“I’d really like to see it sometime.”
My heart is beating overtime at the very thought of having this beautiful man in my home, I’m scared, so scared to let people into my life.
This all feels like I’ve been thrown into a pressure cooker. The force is already building up, and I don’t want it to explode, or the lid to lift and the air to escape. I just want to stay right here with him and let this pressure build.
I’ve never felt this comfortable and yet off kilter at the same time, but I think I like it – it feels like living.
“I think that might be okay,” I tell him coyly.
He dips his head and grins, like that was exactly the answer he was hoping for, and for the first time in a long time, I think that maybe everything might be okay after all.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Rylan
“This is a beautiful house.”
It’s an understatement – the huge Victorian home in front of me is as stunning as it is grand, but I’ve quickly come to learn that Violet isn’t one for making a fuss, so I don’t say anything more about it.
“I love it.” She smiles as she glances up.
We’re walking up the path to her front door, and there’s nothing out here but us, the silence and the moonlight.
This whole evening has felt this way – like it’s just been her and I, talking like neither of us had anywhere else in the world to be.
I glance at her again and shake my head in disbelief that I’m the guy that gets to bring her home tonight.
She really is a beautiful woman; I’d have to be blind not to see the obvious beauty in front of me, but it’s not just about her pretty face, she radiates goodness and warmth too.
She’s cautious – I can see that, but she’s got a sense of freedom about her that I’m not sure even she knows what to do with.
We’re strolling so slowly, dawdling even, and I get the impression that she doesn’t want this night to end any more than I do.
I can’t quite comprehend the feeling I have inside me when she’s around. I feel… at peace. It’s something I haven’t experienced in a very long while, and I’m not ready to let it go just yet.
I glance down and brush the back of my hand against the back of hers. I feel like a teenager all over again, and it’s a sentiment I welcome.
It feels like a stage of my life that I can manage right now – it’s innocent and pure and there’s no expectation on either of us to do anything more than just be here. I’m not walking her to her door with the hope that she’ll invite me in and we’ll have wild sex all night long.
It’s not that I don’t want to do that, because as much of a gentleman as I am, I’m exactly that, a man – but just not tonight.
Even if that was on her agenda, which I’m confident it’s not, Violet deserves more than that, and so do I.
I take her hand in mine when we reach the steps – under the pretence that I’m helping her up them, and don’t get me wrong, I am happy to help, but this contact is as much for my benefit as it is for hers. I’ve been dying to feel her skin against mine again ever since I touched her arm. The satisfied smile on her face makes me think that maybe she feels the same way I do.
Her hand is small and delicate in my much bigger one, and I like it. It feels right.
I don’t let go when we reach her door, and neither does she.
We turn to face one another, and I’m struck again with just how pretty her eyes are.
They sparkle like cut crystal does in the sunlight. Even out here in the dark they shine, and when I look into them I get an inexplicable feeling that I’m not only looking at an important part of my future, but also somehow at my past.
It shocks me to my core that I feel this way about her after only a few short hours, but if there’s one thing I’ve learnt from delivering babies into their parents’ waiting arms, it’s that a person’s whole life can change in a mere fraction of a second.
“I’d really like to see you again.”
Yet another understatement.
“Well… you’ve got my number.” She shrugs.
She’s nervous – she’s not sure if I’m going to kiss her or not.
I step towards her and reach my free hand out slowly towards her face.
There’s a strand of hair that seems to find its way across her forehead often, and I sweep it away and tuck it behind her ear.
I lower my lips to her forehead and place a soft kiss there.
She visibly shudders at the action and it makes me want to do it again.
I pull back, one of my hands resting on her jaw, the other still intertwined with her hand. She looks up at me. Her eyes are cautious but curious. She wants to be kissed.
She tilts her face up towards mine, and I slowly lower my lips to hers, pressing them together ever so gently.
Her free hand reaches for my neck and lightly tugs down, inviting me even closer. I go, willing and eager for more of her.
Her lips are so soft and smooth, and I can taste the mint she took from her handbag earlier.
I want more. God, do I want more, but instead I pull away, knowing that I haven’t earnt more, not yet anyway.
“Thank you for dinner,” she whispers into the small space between us.
“You’re welcome.” My reply comes out just as quietly.
I lean in and press my lips to hers once more, just quickly before I lose myself in her all over again.
“I’ll call you,” I promise as I take a step back.
I’m still holding her hand in mine, and as much as I don’t want to let it go, I know it’s time. I bring her fingers to my lips and kiss her skin one last time before I let go and reluctantly leave.
I watch her from my car. She unlocks her door and waves to me before going inside.
I look back up at the house as the lights come on and allow myself to acknowledge that my long lost feeling of contentment can be found inside those very walls.
***
I see Emmett coming from a mile away, and my feeble attempt to bury my face in my notes goes as expected – totally unsuccessfully.
“Dr. Wilder…” He says my name in the kind of way a voice-over might announce a character in a cheesy movie. “How was the date?”
He’s raising his brows suggestively at me. I’m not sure why he doesn’t just tell me how my date went, because I have a pretty strong hunch that Violet would have been straight on the phone to Lucy the moment I dropped her home.
I consider blowing him off, but I can’t do it. The guy is just too likeable – he and Lucy both are, and right now his obvious excitement is infectious.
“It was good,” I reply as a grin breaks out on my face, and I find that, surprisingly, I actually want to talk about my evening.
I don’t know Emmett all that well, or him I, but he seems to know me well enough to realise that this revelation is a win, albeit a small one.
“She’s pretty incredible once you get past her defences, huh?”
He may not know me all that well, but it seems he does know Violet, and cares a lot about her too. It’s sweet, and I’m happy to know she has such good friends. There’s something about her that makes me think she deserves them.
She’s a guarded woman, but when her mask slips and you see the real her, it’s a beautiful thing to witness.
She’s a bit like me in a lot of ways; we’re both what I would consider to be old souls. I don’t know her story yet, but I get the feeling that she’s lived through a lot more life in her twe
nty-five years than most people have.
“I had a really good time with her.”
“You seeing her again?”
One thing I’ve learnt about Emmett is that he’s as straight up and to the point as they come. He doesn’t beat around the bush and I like that about him. I prefer to know where I stand with people.
I haven’t had much in the way of friends in the past few years and there’s something about the big man in front of me that makes me think that maybe I’ve found one.
“I hope so,” I tell him, because honestly, I want nothing more than to see her again. The idea of peeling back another layer of Violet intrigues me in a way that nothing else does.
I’m looking forward to being back in her company already, and that’s a big deal for me – I haven’t looked forward to something that isn’t work in a very long time.
“I plan to call her today.”
“That’s good…”
“I hope it will be.”
He seems like he has more he wants to say, so I wait for him to get it off his chest.
“She’s been through a lot, doc, so if you’re going to see her again, don’t expect it to be all smooth sailing.” He’s still wearing a smile, but I can tell this is a serious statement.
I nod as he walks away, his warning heeded.
This conversation has only enforced the feeling that there’s something special about Violet – something that I know nothing about.
I stroll around aimlessly for a while after that; I’m not even rostered on, and I’m ninety percent confident I won’t be having any unexpected deliveries today, but I still seem to find myself here anyway.
Wandering the halls has become therapeutic for me. It’s bizarre really. Most people, after a trauma, will avoid places and things that remind them of that event, but apparently, I’m not wired right, because I don’t operate that way.
I work in the same hospital that my sister passed away in. I still walk the same halls I walked as I tried to accept that she was really gone, and I still linger outside the window of the girl whom I never got to meet.
The girl with the crystal blue eyes…
A visual of Violet smiling and giggling softly last night, the deep dimples visible in her cheeks, hits me like a wrecking ball and I nearly drop to my knees.
She’s looking down at the table, but when she glances up to meet my gaze, the same eyes from my memory are looking back at me.
***
It’s funny how when you’re doing something you shouldn’t be, you feel like everyone is looking at you.
They aren’t really, but the feeling of eyes on you is suddenly very real.
I know this is a total breach of her privacy, and that I could be fired for doing this, but there’s just something about Violet that I need to know, and the more I think about her and her familiar eyes, the more concerned I become.
I’ve never been a person that’s able to let things like this go – so here I am, risking my career, because there’s something in a woman’s eyes that makes me feel like I’ve found my way back home.
I type her name into the search bar and peer out my door once more before hitting ‘enter’.
I’m pretty sure I mutter a curse word as her file appears on my computer screen.
It’s a mile long; in fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a medical history quite this large in all the years I’ve been practising. Violet Miller has had more hospital stays than I’ve had hot dinners and that can’t mean anything good.
I don’t want to violate her privacy any more than I’ve accepted I need to, but I can’t help looking at the first entry ever made – the one from the day she was born.
My hands shake as I read the doctor’s notes.
It’s her heart.
I know without looking what the rest of this will say… open heart surgery, probably infections, more open heart surgery, medication… and eventually maybe a transplant.
She’s twenty-five now, and I hope to God that she’s already got the heart she needs. Considering her colouring and the spring in her step, I’m almost certain she has, and I breathe a deep sigh of relief because of it.
I find what I’m looking for in a matter of minutes – the reason I feel like I’ve seen her and those eyes of hers before is because I have.
The month and year leap out at me and slap me clean across the face.
She was here while my sister was dying.
She was here on the same date that brings me to the brink of insanity annually.
She was here when I began wandering the hallways not knowing where to turn.
She was here when I first watched the girl with the crystal blue eyes who looked like she was on the verge of death – she was that girl… she is that girl.
I don’t even read the notes that accompany that particular hospital stay – it doesn’t matter what they say, what matters is that it was her.
I close the file down as fast as I can and rest my head in my hands.
This only confirms what I already knew.
Violet is the girl with the beautiful eyes. The girl who gave me hope in the darkest of all my hours, and I don’t know if I’m more shocked with the revelation, or the fact that I didn’t put it together sooner.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Violet
“Has he called you yet?”
I roll my eyes at my best friend’s ridiculous persistence.
“It’s not even midday; give the guy a chance, would you?”
“He had a great time. It sounds like you two really hit it off.”
I groan. “How on earth do you know he had a good time?”
“Emmett saw him at work, so he quizzed him, then he called me. Duh.”
Of course he did. I don’t know why I would have expected anything less – frankly I should probably just be grateful that Lucy didn’t go ahead and call him herself.
“You two have been watching too many of those love match shows. You’re both totally out of control, you know that, right?”
She laughs, and the sound is soft and tinkling.
She doesn’t say anything more and we both know it’s only a matter of time before I crack.
“Fine.” I let out a resigned sigh. “Are you going to tell me what he said or not?”
Lucy doesn’t require any further encouragement before she eagerly launches into a total re-enactment of the encounter.
I know her and Emmett well enough to know that the details of this story will be strongly inflated and possibly entirely inaccurate, but still, I listen with bated breath and all the excitement of a teenager talking about her first boyfriend. Because frankly, he might not be my boyfriend just yet, but he is near the top of a very short list of dates that I’ve had in my twenty-five years.
“Did you tell him about… you know, your heart and stuff?” Lucy asks me quietly and I feel a pang of guilt in my gut.
It’s not that I think I owe him the story – not yet anyway, if I see more of him, then yeah… I’ll need to explain to him the reality of my life.
But not having told him yet isn’t why I feel guilty.
I feel guilty because of the reason I didn’t tell him.
I didn’t tell him because he’s the man from my dream… my premonition, my life flashing before my eyes… whatever you want to call it… he’s the one.
He’s the one whose eyes stayed with me as I found my way back to life instead of disappearing into death.
He’s the one who I’ve dreamed of nearly every night since.
I don’t know what I would have said. I have no idea what I could possibly say to him that wouldn’t send him running for the hills – so instead I said nothing.
There’s also guilt because I’ve never told Lucy all of this.
She’s my best friend, has been since we were babies, and this is the one and only thing I’ve never shared with her.
I don’t even know why. Maybe one day I will bring her in on my secret, but for now at least, I know I�
�m not ready.
The only person I’ve talked about those moments with is Auggie, and suddenly I’m filled with an overwhelming desire to talk to my big sister.
“I didn’t tell him,” I respond quietly. “I will… if it goes anywhere, I’ll tell him.”
“I know you will, Letty.”
“I still can’t believe you forgot to mention that you actually know him,” I grumble, hoping that I’ll succeed in changing the subject.
“Well, technically, he knows my lady bits better than he knows me, so I didn’t think I needed to mention it.”
I groan again. “I really did not need a visual of the man I was kissing last night, looking at your lady bits.”
“Um… back the truck up. Kissing? Now who’s holding out on information, huh? You conveniently forgot to mention that you were locking lips with the hot doctor now, did you?”
I intentionally left that part out when I was texting Lucy last night. She’d barely managed to refrain from asking me five thousand questions when I let her and Emmett know they were relieved of their chaperone duties, and the minute I got home she jumped right back into it.
Lucy is all about the questions.
I laugh into the phone. “Cut the fake outrage, I’m telling you now.”
“Oh, you bet your ass you are. I want all the details, right now.”
I smile and revel in the feeling of being normal, even just for a few moments.
***
“Hey, stranger.” I lean in and whisper hoarsely in August’s ear as I approach from behind her.
She startles so easily, and I just can’t help myself.
“I told you to stop doing that to me!” she cries once she realises it’s me and not some creep trying to hit on her.
“And I keep telling you that I’ve lived this long for a reason, and if driving my sister crazy isn’t one of them, then I just don’t know what it is I’m meant to do with my life.”
Every Last Beat Page 16
