Only in My Dreams

by Darcy Burke

  “You don’t know him. He’s an alcohol and drug counselor over in Newberg.”

  At the rehab center most likely. “That where you’re going to live?” He couldn’t help the feeling of resentment that threatened if her answer was yes. She’d complained endlessly about having to move away from Ribbon Ridge even temporarily when they were married.

  “No, we have a house here. In the new subdivision on the east side.” Closer to Newberg then. “What about you? Seeing anyone?”

  “Sort of.” It was as accurate of an answer as he could give.

  “Good for you. I hope it grows to more than sort of.” She edged toward him and he caught her scent, a tropical, flowery perfume he could never remember the name of. She pushed her long dark hair over her shoulder. “You deserve to be happy, if you can. Did you ever get therapy?”

  She’d pushed him to get counseling the last year or so of their marriage. She’d claimed the army had messed him up, but it hadn’t been the army, it had been their differences: her need for family involvement and approval and his absolute indifference to it.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  She looked to the left, her nostrils flaring. “You’re as revelatory as ever.”

  He leaned back against the hood of his truck, uncaring that it was dirty and radiating heat. “You know, when I divorced you, I thought I was sparing myself from further scolding about my lack of communicating.”

  She glared at him. “You did. Now I remember why we aren’t even friends. Not that I expected anything more given the craptastic example your parents set. See you around, Dylan.” She stalked off to her car.

  Dylan pushed away from the truck and pivoted toward the house, irritation boiling just beneath the surface. Jessica was the last person he’d needed to see today when he was trying to sort his life out. Why had Dad invited him over if she was going to be here? Why the hell didn’t his family close ranks and protect their own the way the Archers did?

  He raised his hand to knock on the door and then thought, screw it. Dad always told him to just come in, so he did.

  Dad came from the kitchen, his face pinched. “You didn’t run into Jessica, did you?”

  “A little warning would’ve been nice.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know she was stopping by. I never would’ve asked you to come over if I had. Believe me, I know how painful it is to run into your ex.”

  Jessica’s words burned Dylan’s chest. “Why is that exactly? Thirty years you and Mom have been divorced, and you still can’t treat each other civilly. You guys are great role models.”

  Dad straightened, his graying eyebrows first climbing then dropping low over his eyes. “What’s with you?”

  A lifetime of buried hurt erupted to the surface. “I’d like to know why I wasn’t important enough for you and Mom to try to get along.”

  Dad held up his hand. “Dylan, you’re plenty important enough.”

  “Really? Then why did you guys take versions of our family pictures without me in them?”

  Dad wiped his hand over his mouth. “That was only a few times. Angie—”

  “I know. Angie. It was always Angie. You put her before me, just like Mom put Bill before me. That is, when you weren’t putting your other kids first.” Years of shoving the pain to the back of his mind rolled over him, gathering momentum like a massive snowball tumbling down a steep slope. “I never came first. I have no idea what it feels like to be the most important thing in another person’s life. Why the fuck is that, Dad?”

  “Dylan!” Angie gasped from the base of the stairs to Dylan’s left.

  He looked over at her, uncaring that he was shocking the hell out of her. He turned back to the right to face his dad. “I’ll come back tomorrow to look at the water heater when you’re both at work.” He had a key.

  He turned and left, firing up his truck and speeding away as quickly as possible. He blasted his radio, finding a station that was playing something suitable to his mood. “Shinedown.” Perfect.

  As he drove out of their subdivision toward the hills, he realized he could easily veer west to Sara’s. She still hadn’t responded to his texts from yesterday, and though he hadn’t tried her today, he still wanted to talk to her even if he wasn’t 100 percent sure what he intended to say.

  He pulled into the Archer driveway and parked in front of the main entry to the house. What if Kyle or Tori answered the door? The hell with it. He marched up the steps and rang the bell.

  It took a long minute, but the door opened. Thankfully, it was Sara. All the things he meant to say, all the reasons he’d planned to offer about why they couldn’t work out vacated his brain. He grabbed her waist and slammed against her, kissing her with a passion he didn’t realize he had.

  Clutching at his shoulders, she kissed him back, her mouth hot and open and utterly delicious. God, how he’d missed her. How long had it been since they’d been together? Not even a week and yet he was starved.

  She pulled his shirt up and slid her fingertips along his sides, then around to his back, digging into his flesh. He buried one hand in her hair and clutched the other against her ass, which he pulled snug to his hips. She rotated against him, fueling his desire.

  She moved backward then stopped abruptly, causing him to nearly knock her over. He pulled back and steadied her. They’d hit the base of a short set of stairs that led up into the massive oval hallway.

  Their breath came in heavy pants, creating a rhythmic, animalistic sound that reverberated in his very bones like some sort of primal beat. Damn, he hadn’t realized how badly he was drawn to her, how desperately he wanted her. He thought of taking her upstairs or wherever the hell her bedroom was and spending the night showing her how much he’d missed her, but he didn’t. The wildness of his need quite frankly scared the shit out of him.

  He shook his head. Had to be because of his mental state. He’d completely lost it at Dad’s house. He looked at her apologetically. “Sorry.”

  She smoothed her hair where he’d fisted it while they’d made out. “For kissing me?”

  He let go of her and stepped back. “For barreling in here and jumping on you, yeah.”

  “It was mutual, in case you didn’t notice.”

  He wanted to smile, but didn’t. There were too many things to be said. “I noticed. Look, I came here to talk to you because you weren’t returning my texts.”

  “I know and I’m sorry. It’s been weird adjusting to Mom being gone and my dad is having a tough time—it’s all just weighing on me in a big way.”

  He noted she didn’t mention him in her litany of worries. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Good, he decided. He didn’t want to add to her load. “What’s going on with your dad?”

  “I’m not sure he’s really dealt with Alex’s death. Plus, he feels left out of the renovation project. Alex specifically asked him to stay out of it.”

  Dylan’s gut clenched. It was one thing to feel left out, as he did, but to be pointedly excluded in your son’s dying wish? He didn’t think it got more awful than that. “Your dad’s in worse shape than you realized, isn’t he?”

  “I think so. I’d all but decided to move back here and this sort of seals it. I came back to help Mom and now she’s gone to France, but it turns out Dad needs me too.”

  She was coming back to Ribbon Ridge? The things he’d come to say swam back to the front of his mind. He cared for her. More than he probably understood, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for a commitment. Sara deserved a happily ever after, and not only could he not guarantee that, he was pretty sure he was incapable of delivering.

  He felt the weight of her expectation, and he couldn’t bear the strain. “Sara, I hope you aren’t moving home because of me. This thing between us—”

  “We should end it.” Her eyes were so clear and blue. He wanted to dive into them and float forever. “That’s what you really came here to do, isn’t it?”

  He hadn’t been sure. That didn’t take the sting from her
words. “When you didn’t respond to me . . . ”

  “You assumed I was done. That’s okay; in the absence of communication, you sort of have to make things up, right?” She fidgeted with her bracelet. “Yes, it’s mutual. Things are just too complicated right now, and as great as I feel when I’m with you, it’s not fair to you that things in my life are such a mess.”

  Not fair to him. She was incredible. He went over to her and brushed her hair back from her face. He gently pressed his lips to her forehead, her cheek, and then her mouth, lightly grazing her soft flesh. “I’m still here for you, as your friend.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.” She walked to the door and held it open for him. “I’ll see you at the cottage.”

  “Yeah, you will.” He paused at the threshold. “Will that be weird?”

  She smiled softly. “Only if we let it, and I’ll try not to.”

  “Me too. See you.” He walked out onto the porch and heard the door close behind him.

  As he climbed back into his truck, he realized he didn’t actually get to do the primary thing he’d come for—rant about his family. The irony that he’d finally been about to open up to someone only to fail miserably wasn’t lost on him. If anything, it supported their breakup and cemented what he already knew, that he was a loner and always would be.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  June

  TORI LOOKED UP from the kitchen island where she was reading her iPad and drinking her morning coffee. She took in Sara’s white skirt and capped-sleeve teal-colored blouse. “You look cute. Where are you off to today?”

  Sara smoothed her hand down her skirt, her bracelets clanging together against her wrist. “Meeting with Aubrey to sign off on the sale of Sara Archer Celebrations.”

  “It seems like it’s taken a while to get all of that settled.”

  “Yeah, a lot of details to hammer out. Lawyers aren’t the fastest service providers.”

  Tori chuckled. “You’re right about that. So you’re feeling good about it?”

  Sara grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “Surprisingly, yes. Thanks.” Feeling good was a fleeting thing the last week since she and Dylan had parted ways.

  Tori sipped her coffee. “I’m meeting with Dylan later to decide which engineer to hire. I know you haven’t been involved with that, but you’re welcome to come if you want. I think Kyle might be there too.”

  Sara had done a good job of avoiding Dylan since their breakup. They’d had one formal meeting to discuss finishes and colors for the cottage, but Kyle had joined them so things had stayed purely professional, which was for the best. Her heart still pulled when she saw him—as did regions further south—but she didn’t regret ending things. As they’d agreed, the timing was just terrible. Maybe in a year or whenever, they could try again. That thought gave her very little consolation. She couldn’t live in a state of expectation or ambiguity. They weren’t a couple, and she wanted to be fine with that. Needed to be fine with that.

  “I’ll see how my day goes,” Sara said. “Catch you later.” She grabbed her purse and went out to the garage. Fifteen minutes later, she pulled into the small parking lot beside the renovated house that held the law offices of Tallinger and Associates.

  Sara ascended the short flight of steps to the wide porch and then went into the small reception area. The receptionist greeted her warmly. “I’ll let Aubrey know you’re here.”

  Sara glanced at her phone while she waited.

  “Sara?”

  Sara turned to see Aubrey standing a few feet away. “Hi, you ready for me?”

  Aubrey smiled. “Sure, come on back.” She turned and led her down a hallway to her office. Dressed in dark gray pinstriped slacks and heels Sara didn’t think she could ever navigate without falling on her butt, Aubrey was the picture of casual elegance.

  Aubrey went into her office and sat at a small, round table. She gestured for Sara to take one of the other two chairs. “Here’s the agreement.” She slid a small stack of papers toward Sara. “You’re welcome to read through it again, but it’s pretty much the same as the last time you reviewed it.”

  Sara flipped through the agreement and was surprised at how relieved she felt. It really had been a blessing in disguise. She was excited about building up The Alex, about becoming successful in Ribbon Ridge. Alex had wanted them all to reconnect with their family and with Ribbon Ridge, and she’d done that. She smiled to herself, thanking her brother for this gift.

  She quickly signed her name and then pushed the papers back to Aubrey.

  “How do you feel?” Aubrey asked.

  Sara couldn’t have censored herself, even if she tried. “A little sad, but mostly relieved. Okay, and maybe a tad overwhelmed.” She felt like she was starting a whole new chapter in her life, and she supposed she was.

  “This is a big change. You and your family have had a lot of big changes lately.”

  Sara took a deep, sustaining breath. “This was just . . . my thing. The thing that I created that belonged to me. It made me unique and special in my family.” She flicked a glance at Aubrey who was watching her intently.

  “I’m sure there are lots of things that make you unique and special.” Aubrey stood up from the table and went to her desk. Sara didn’t watch what she did there, but heard a drawer open and close.

  Then an envelope was moving toward her on the table. Her name was scrawled across the front. She recognized the handwriting: Alex’s. The breath left her lungs and her heart squeezed. For the briefest moment, it felt as though he were still here.

  She reached out tentatively and touched the edge. “Is this . . . is this my letter?”

  “Yes.” Aubrey said. “I’m supposed to give it to you at time when you seem truly alone or overwhelmed. I’m not sure how Alex expected me to know these things since I only see you guys once a month when we meet about the trust, but I guess he somehow knew that I’d figure it out.”

  Alex was like that. He discerned things about people that no one else did. Maybe because he had time to study people because he moved so much slower than just about everyone. He felt like he was left behind, but maybe that had been a gift.

  Sara picked up the envelope and stuffed it into her purse.

  “If you want to read it now, I’ll leave you alone,” Aubrey offered.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll just take it with me.” Sara stood. “Thanks again for all of your help.”

  Aubrey stood too and opened the door for her. “I’ll get this paperwork to Craig’s attorney. You should have the money in a few days. The wire’s still okay with you?”

  “Yeah, thanks.” Sara was barely listening. Her entire focus was on the letter.

  She drove home as quickly as she could and parked in the garage. She hoped no one was around so that she could read the letter in peace. Perhaps she ought to just read it in the car? No, she wanted to read it in his room.

  She went in through the mudroom and paused, pivoting to the left. She stared at the door to Alex’s room. It was always closed now. She didn’t remember the last time she’d gone inside.

  With slow steps, she went and opened it, shutting the door behind her as she moved inside. It looked the same. Smelled the same. She half expected Alex to wander in from the bathroom that also opened up to the hallway that led off the mudroom.

  But he didn’t. And he never would. She set her purse on his desk and withdrew the envelope. Perching on the edge of his bed, she stuck her finger under the seal and split it open. She pulled out the letter—a single piece of paper—and unfolded it. His handwriting stared at her, familiar yet distant, already a memory.

  Dear Sara,

  First, I want to apologize. I know what I did was selfish and that it affected you in ways I can only imagine. I hope your SPD hasn’t been off the charts and that you’ve been able to manage. I suspect the whole family is in disarray and for that, I’m truly sorry.

  I wonder if you’ll be the first to get your letter, after Mom a
nd Dad. I sort of think you will. Because of your strength and capability, you’ll be able to move on from what I’ve done more quickly and with a clearer head than just about everyone else. You can do anything you set your mind to. Who else has gone off and created a successful business on their own? (Liam doesn’t count—he’s a freak, right?) Don’t ever forget who you are and who you can be. For you, there are no limits.

  I know you think you’re quirky and you worry that people treat you differently. They don’t. Well, I suppose that’s not exactly true. The sibs do sometimes, but you can’t let them get to you, just as you have to remember our shared experience. They will always remember the girl who spoke haltingly, who melted down if she felt too crowded, and who worked twice as hard to achieve in school. Don’t begrudge them wanting to protect and care for you. It’s our—sorry, their—right and privilege. Of course, I still expect you to kick them in the ass from time to time because they need it. I hope you and Kyle find your way back to each other. Your relationship was so special. Don’t be too hard on him. After all, his leaving was the catalyst for where you are today, and that, sis, is a beautiful thing.

  Thank you for taking care of Mom and Dad, because I know you are. Just remember to put yourself first. I’m not saying to turn your back on anyone, but when all is said and done, this is your life and you have to live it. I hope you will. I hope you find love and have a family—you’re going to be the best mom. One of my greatest regrets is that I won’t be around to see it.

  I love you.

  Alex

  Her heart pounded a staccato rhythm that filled her ears. She turned her head and looked at the picture on Alex’s nightstand. It was from the TV show, the photo they’d taken on the last day of shooting. They were standing together, their arms around each other, Alex in the center.

  He’d been going through a really good patch so he didn’t have his oxygen tank, and he looked more vibrant than usual. Her gaze moved to Liam who was standing on the right end. They’d never looked as alike as they did in that picture. She knew why Alex had kept it next to his bed, even though it was from when they were twelve. It reminded him of who he could be, of the heights he could achieve when he was healthy.