Page 144 of Shades of Grey & Gold

The city lights sparkle, offering a dim light in the otherwise dark space through the floor-to-ceiling wall of windows across the living room. I notice the room is full of new, soft-looking furniture that contrasts the sharp edges of the architecture.

I smile slightly, remembering my lecture to Cal on my first night here about the uncomfortable couch and unwelcoming decor. My comfy reading chair still sits in the corner, with my white knit blanket thrown over the back, framed by a new antique gold reading lamp. It looks exactly the same—like no one has touched it since I left.

Plants with pearly, hanging green buds and other plants with soft leaves scatter across a mantel and a big fireplace that wasn’t there before. It doesn’t look like the fake insert kind, and I step deeper into the space, frowning at what looks like real logs sitting inside past the natural stone hearth.

“Nico?” I raise my voice to carry slightly through the apartment, walking in to find the kitchen empty in the hush of the night.

But it’s not the same kitchen.

Not the white kitchen that had a coffee stain under the sink on the white tile from my first morning here.

Not the white cabinets with the hidden coffee syrups.

The kitchen glows with the soft amber hue of a single light from the adjoining eating nook beyond it, casting long, gentle shadows over the cool marble counters and polished natural wood floors.

And that’s when I really notice all the floors: they’re all light, natural wood, and the kitchen—my fingers shake as they touch my lips.

It’slike Nico ripped the picture I had in my head and made it reality—like the blueprints that must have been from Cal had been produced from a perfect memory of every word I said on that first night.

The faint hum of the refrigerator set behind dark blue cabinets is the only sound, a quiet heartbeat in the stillness, melting with the sounds of the city wafting in from the open doors of the balcony across from the island.

The white cabinets that used to be here are gone, replaced by dark blue ones with gold handles and tiny beaded edges.

The stark white counters are gone; in their place, white marble with a substantial vein of gold running through the center of the island, reflecting three massive gold lanterns that hang above it. I trace the knuckles of my hand holding the keycard across the thick edge of the cold, beautiful stone.

With the kitchen in front of me, I glance to the right, knowing the bedroom full of memories is still tucked back down that long hallway.

And if I take a few more steps past the bedroom, I’ll run into the staircase.

And with a few more paces, I’ll be in his study. Enveloped in the smells—leather and cedar and gunpowder.

And the door—my door—will lead to the most stunning sanctuary of an office. With a desk carved with the moon phases.

My hand leaves my lips and drops to the moon phase necklace that I put on for the first time before coming here, thinking it was the first and last time it’d be okay to wear it. The metal is cold and soft.

I take a big breath, closing my eyes briefly while I center myself, pushing down the bubbling grief under the surface.

I take a few steps forward, turning my head to the balcony doors. With the kitchen behind me, there are no more lights except the ones coming from the moon high in the sky streaming in from the tall balcony doors.

My breath catches in my throat.

Nico is standing with his back to me on the balcony some twenty feet away, leaning forward along the stone railing.

The same railing where Cal kissed me for the first time.

The sparkling city lights frame Nico, and I’m instantly caught between a memory and a dream.

Between reality and what should have been.

I feel tears pricking the edges of my vision.

The metal keycard suddenly feels even heavier than before in my hand.

The lost moments that should have been—because he should be here.

I take half a step forward, letting my mind blur the shadows, blur the reality—just for one second more than in the graduation hallway.

And for that one second, I let myself pretend—really pretend.