Page 103 of Chasing Home

“But they could be.”

Her words shake me. Suddenly, I’m smacked with the realization that I’ve already found family in Cherry Peak, and while I don’t share blood with a single one of them, it doesn’t matter. I’m sitting on this bench by myself, but I don’t feel alone. I haven’t for weeks now.

“I met someone, Mom.” I whisper the words so softly it’s like I’m afraid of speaking them out loud, even for my own ears. “He came with me to meet Lee.”

“Tell me about him.”

I inhale deeply, finally feeling some of the constriction around my throat loosen. With the sleeve of Johnny’s coat, I wipe my eyes. They don’t fill with tears immediately after this time.

“He’s my opposite. An easygoing extrovert that could smile every minute of every day. I’ve grown distracted in Cherry Peak, and I’m glad I have because it meant I got to spend more time with him. You’d like him, I think. He’s a believer in all things universe related.”

“And you haven’t gotten tired of his energy? Because I remember that one boy from middle school who you said wouldn’t stop following you down the halls telling you those jokes from the book he carried everywhere. You told me you were going to shove the book into his mouth and make him eat it,” she says with a soft laugh.

“That’s the thing. I haven’t grown tired of it at all. If anything, I think he’s been pulling me out of my shell. I’ve met friends here, Mom. Good ones that don’t care if I have resting bitch face or struggle to start conversations out of nothing. I don’t have to fill awkward silence or feel bad about not wanting to go out after work. They accept me.”

She sucks in a sharp breath before I hear her cry. It’s hardly audible, but I catch it instantly. “So not all was lost, then. You’re happy there.”

“Yeah, I’m happy.”

Really happy. Scarily happy. Somehow, everything I wasn’t expecting to find in Cherry Peak, I did.

“I hope you know that you don’t have to come back here. Not for me and your dad. Not for yourself. Not for anyone. Do you understand me, Aurora Bennett?”

I don’t have the heart to tell her that it’s not that simple. Not right now, when emotions are so high and I’m shaking like a leaf in the rain.

“I love you, Mom,” I say instead.

“I love you more, Aura. Please don’t take so long to talk to me next time. I missed your voice so much.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

After a few more words, we hang up, and I tuck my phone away before it can get any more wet than it already is. Some of the pressure on my chest is gone. But there’s still so much left. Questions and decisions and hard calls that I don’t want to think about making right now.

Instead, I stand and start back the way I came. Only I don’t get far before I’m halting and blinking profusely to make sure I’m not seeing things. Because leaning against the fence, his hair soaked and curling into his eyes, is Johnny.

34

JOHNNY

I let Aurora go, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to still keep an eye on her. Being alone in a city as big and unfamiliar as Toronto, it would be far too easy to get lost or hurt or a million other terrifying things that I don’t want to think about.

So, I let her run off, but like a level five stalker, I retraced her steps the moment I got off the elevator. The receptionist wanted nothing to do with me when I asked which way Rory had turned outside of the building, but she didn’t hold off too long. Maybe I looked as concerned as I felt, or maybe she still had a soft spot for my imaginary goldendoodle. Either way, I took off without a second look at the building and its shitty residents.

Luck led me to the park, a tug in my subconscious that I followed blindly. It was easy to spot her on the bench, her blonde hair a shade darker wet. I wanted to run to her but forced myself to lean against the fence and watch her surroundings instead of her, not wanting to intrude on the conversation happening. Even when her sobs tore through the air and landed against my chest like heavy blows, I stayed with my back glued to the fence.

The conversation lasts minutes but feels like hours. I watch her shake and cry and turn damn near blue before tucking the phone back in her pocket and standing, her tears washed away in the rain.

Our eyes meet then. She blinks away her disbelief before smiling at me. It’s a good thing she’s the one to rush toward me because my knees wobble at the sight of those white teeth and crinkles at the corner of her mouth.

“What are you doing here?” she asks in awe, her hands finding purchase on my chest. They spread across the distance of it before smoothing over my shoulders and back again. “You’re soaking wet.”

I cup her cheeks and frown at the frozen skin. The rain stopped bothering me soon after I got to the park, but the thought of her getting sick from standing out in the cold doesn’t sit right with me. “You’re freezing.”

Her smile melts into something soft and smooth. “Not anymore.”

“Are you okay? Can we go back to the hotel?”