“I got us a cake. Ice cream. Your favorite.”
His smile feels eerie as he turns to me, remaining perfectly still and silent. Watching me carefully…
“Do you want a slice now? I can run back downstairs to grab forks and have Ruth get us each a slice?” My words come out jumbled.
“No…” Aidan takes a long pause before stepping closer to me. And I can’t tell if he’s mad or upset.
“What are you doing here?”
“I got your text and, uh—” All my words are meshing together in my mind, trying to piece together why I am here. All I can think to say is—
“Do you remember that time at Phi Lambda when we devoured a whole cake that your fraternity brother’s girlfriend made?”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that high before.”
“Jessica was so pissed. She should’ve known never to leave something that tasted that good in the fridge.” He chuckles as we both picture the expression on her face.
“Yeah, so I got you another one. Minus the weed.”
“So, this is an apology cake?” He asks.
“No…”
He shakes his head at me before returning back to the screen to yell at one of his buddies who just killed him in the game.
“No, it’s more like—"I miss that version of us’ kinda cake.”
All I hear is aggressive clicking coming from the controller, him smashing into the buttons for a few moments before he reverts his attention back to me. Dropping his headphones on his desk and moving to the mattress where I am seated.
“Sorry, thank you for the cake. That was kind of you.”
I want to hear,How have you been? Haven’t been able to reach you in days. We haven’t done our weekly traditions in two weeks.
Instead, he says, “I miss you.”
The smile that seems sincere is morphing into those puppy-dog eyes.
“You do?”
“Yeah, I’m just surprised you came here after I texted you…”
His hand extends over to my thigh as he leans in. My free hand grabs for my pendant, clutching onto it for some reason I can’t explain.
No gust of wind. No creepy voices. No sight of her.
“Aren’t your friends going to be mad if you stopped the game?”
Aidan shakes his head profusely. “No, they can wait.”
He tells me exactly what I want to hear. The exact thing I wish he had said three weeks ago before the fire.
Running my hand through my straightened hair, I look up from the floor to meet his eyes. Unlike Holden, Aidan’s eyes are hooded and hopeful.
“So, Chris finally trusted you with one of his new clients?”
“It’s Holden Strauss…” I gulp.
“Oh, the guy from that over-the-top basketball show?”
