I couldn’t tear my eyes off him as he walked out the door. His white tee clung to his chest, showing off the clear muscle he had gained in our time apart. River trailed closely behind Salem, but once he rounded the corner, he turned his head over his shoulder. Our eyes met again, his blank, and mine pleading. The delusional in me fantasized his eyes would light up, finally recognizing the kid he constantly told was his everything.
But he gripped the doorknob and shut the door behind him. Just like that, he was gone.
What were the chances that the same River from my childhood was standing in my apartment? Scratch that—what were the chances that he was here but couldn’t remember who I was?
Probably not that slim. Maybe I was forgettable. Killian seemed to prove that.
Whether River was lying or not, if he wanted to pretend he forgot me, then he could do that. I’d simply have to do the same.
Chapter Two
ALEX
The constant thought of River was suffocating.
His reappearance opened the floodgates in my head. All of thirteen-year-old Alex’s feelings had come rushing back in. The gut-punch that came when he began ignoring me in school, the loneliness that came afterward because he was the only friend I wanted to be around, the nagging belief that what I did had caused his disappearance—it was all back. The only difference being that the feelings felt ten times stronger, because his refusal to acknowledge that we had met before only proved what younger me had thought.
River did not want to be around me, and the only reason I could come up with was that stupid, impulsive kiss.
“River Moore?” my sister’s voice rose in astonishment. “The kid I was convinced you were secretly dating?”
Scoffing, I rested my elbows on the countertop and leaned on them. “Yeah. By the way, you were wrong.”
Annabelle pursed her lips in disbelief as she chopped the carrots on the cutting board. “River’s lying. Seventh grade isn’t long enough ago to forget your best friend.”
I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that I wasn’t overthinking it. This was one reason I enjoyed visiting my sister’s place. Anna was always ready to listen to me complain about my problems, and then she’d give her expert older-sister opinion.
“Wait. Who’s lying?” squeaked a little voice.
My niece’s pigtails swung as she skipped into the room, a carefree attitude to her. Stopping at the countertop, she rested her fingertips on the edge and pulled herself up to see.
“No one.” Annabelle waved a dismissive hand at her daughter and then dropped a few carrots onto the already prepared dinner plate. “Eat your food, Millie.”
I helped Millie onto the chair, and she grimaced at the sight of the carrots. “I don’t want that.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” Annabelle said sternly. “Carrots are good for you.”
Even though Millie was displeased, she began eating the carrots, behaving like a fifteen-year-old even though she was only eight.
Ignoring her child, Annabelle’s eyes landed on me. “What have you eaten today?”
My teeth ground against each other as I thought back on my day. “Umm, I had a banana for breakfast.”
Anna didn’t need to look out the window to know. “It’s dark outside.”
“Well, I also had two granola bars, like, two hours ago.”
Her frown resembled our mother’s. “Seriously, Alex?”
“It’s not on purpose; I was going to eat,” I assured her, but she was already working on fixing me a plate. “A lot is going on, and I just…”
“Forgot,” she answered for me.
I nodded, and she slid the plate toward me. “I know, I know you. Maybe since you’re eating, Mills will eat too.”
“Nope,” Millie muttered, picking at her food with pure disinterest.
My sister treated everything with seriousness and care, especially when it came to her daughter and me. In a way, she acted more like a mom to me than our true mother. Not because Mom wasn’t a loving mother—she was, and she tried her best, but she never understood me like Annabelle.
