Page 107 of When We Had Forever
And, long before that, what it felt like to stand on a starlit mountaintop, holding his hand, and understand that each moment here on earth amounts to both the smallest and mightiest of things.
“Damn it,” I say, then punch the steering wheel. I don’t do it hard, but the horn sounds, startling a magpie from the roadside bramble into the peach-bright sky.
I watch it fade to a speck. I’m not entirely sure I want to know how else Michael and Grayson deceived me. But maybe, at the end of the day, I owe the boy from the mountaintop that much.
By the time I pull into the cabin’s driveway and kill the engine, I’ve formulated a plan. I’ll let Grayson say his piece—just go, hear him out, don’t touch him, and be done with it.
Once I know everything,thenI’ll decide whether to speak to him ever again. Because informed decisions, after all, are always the best ones.
Right?
AFTER
I don’t bother to make myself presentable. After an unsatisfying nap filled with fitful half dreams, I shower, gather my hair into a bristly ponytail, and pull on electric-blue leggings and a vivid orange top. The colors war with one another, but who cares? Not me.
I eat lunch. Or breakfast. Or dinner. Or whatever the hell it is.
By the time I climb into the car again, the sun graces the horizon, and I glance in the rearview mirror as I turn the key. Puffy, bloodshot eyes stare back, but that doesn’t stop me from hitting the gas.
Near town, just as I cross into my service zone, my phone rings. I pull off onto the roadside. Not because I want to delay the inevitable. Okay, maybe. But I also prefer not to break the law. “Hello?”
“Hey, Mina? It’s Tanner. I’ve got something for you. Sort of. Sorry it took so long.”
I stare blankly through the windshield before finally remembering the favor I asked him for. That seems like years ago. “Oh, wow. I completely forgot. I’m so sorry you ended up going to all that trouble.”
“It was no trouble,” he says. “At least, it won’t be, if all you want is this email from May. Is it that one? Or the one from fourteen years ago?”
Silence stretches between us.
“Fourteen years ago?” I echo.
“Yeah. You weren’t sure of the send date, so I didn’t limit my search, and two deleted messages came up. One from a Grayson Drake in May, but also an older one, from you.”
A buzz fills the space between my ears. I never sent Grayson an email. Not fourteen years ago, at least. “Fromme? Are you sure?”
“Yep.”
“What does it say?”
He hesitates. “Is that the one you want recovered?”
“Yes,” I say, without thinking.
Tanner sighs. “Well, damn. I was afraid of that. To be honest, I’m not sure I can actually retrieve it, it’s so old. And it looks like it was deleted on your end the day it was sent. But if you give me more time, I can try to get my hands on it. Just don’t expect much.”
Deleted the day it was sent.I blink, sifting through possibilities, none of which make sense. Fourteen years ago, Grayson existed as nothing more than a concept to me.
“Mina?”
I startle. “Yeah. Sorry. I’d...really appreciate it if you could get that message back. There’s no rush, and if anyone can do it, it’s you. You’re a wizard.”
He chuckles, pleased. “I’ll see what I can do. Anything for Kate’s best friend.”
I hang up and ease back onto the road, my head spinning. There must be some kind of explanation. Even if I can’t think of one right now.
At Grayson’s hotel, I park and venture through a door marked Lobby, which amounts to little more than a plain room with a check-in counter and a coffee station. A proprietor with salt-and-pepper hair watches a Bollywood musical on TV. The vibrant singing makes me feel like I’ve wandered into the wrong place. Everyone on the screen is so happy. So beautiful and perfect. Not to mention really damn good at dancing.
“Can I help you?” he says.
