Page 100 of All Signs Point to Malibu

Amelia shakes her head, her gray curls falling across her thin, frail shoulders. “If they were truly happy, you wouldn’t have been successful in breaking them up.”

Her words of wisdom don’t have the soothing effect I know she intended. She may be right, but deciding on a life together should have been Sonia and Liam’s sole decision. I never should have interfered.

I slump in the chair. “I’m a fraud.” I’ve always known it, but now it’s just solidified. There’s no way I can continue my career this way. Even if it wasn’t slowly being sabotaged by that viral video and my questionable actions, I don’t feel in my heart that it’s the right thing to do anymore.

“It doesn’t matter how you’re able to help people, the key is that you do,” Amelia says as she nudges my teacup closer and urges me to drink.

I take another god-awful sip and realize maybe this is my penance. “But how many people who took my advice are now unhappy? I mean, even if I was right about Sonia hurting Liam, who was I to interfere?”

“Someone who cared about him.”

“Or did I just care about myself? Use the situation to ease my own conscience while I went after what I wanted?” Or thought I wanted—which is even worse.

Amelia sends me a thoughtful look. “We’ve been neighbors for a long time and all I know is, I see a lot of lost souls going into your office and a lot of optimism walking out.”

Her words do make me feel a little better, but I can’t tame the spiraling thoughts about the lives I’ve impacted—directly and indirectly—with my actions.

Amelia extends her hand. “You’ve always been a positive guide for me.”

I hesitate as I stare at her lifeline. “I don’t think I should do this anymore.”

She reaches for my hand and grasps it. Our lifelines connect and my visionary powers are activated.

Inside Amelia’s house, her living room is cold, quiet...

I shiver, feeling an unfamiliar eeriness even through time and space...

Amelia’s rocking chair is empty and a pile of unread scripts sits on her desk.

Tears burning my eyes, I squeeze Amelia’s hand. “You know, I think it’s time you took that trip to see your son,” I say gently.

Amelia nods her understanding and doesn’t let go of my hand. This time she holds on tighter. “Will you come with me?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Of course.”

I may not be confident using my gift to help others anymore, but this is one way I can be there for her—when she needs me, when it matters.

My Jeep pulls up to Hailey’s front gate the next day. I lean out the window and hit the buzzer. As I wait, I run a nervous hand through my hair. I have no idea what to say to her. Do I believe she has psychic abilities...no? I don’t know. Maybe?

If she did somehow know about the accident at tryouts or whether she just had a bad feeling that day in the airport, either way, she saved my life or at least prevented a life-altering injury.

But what do I say to her? Where exactly do we go from here?

Truth of the matter is that she still broke up a wedding, kissed her ex moments after kissing me, and made me question my own sanity...

Despite that, I can’t stop thinking about her. I think about her the minute I wake up and she’s the last frustrating thought I have before I drift off into a restless sleep. I don’t want to date—I’ve deleted my hookup contact list—or even spend time with the guys. I long to see her, touch her, be near her annoyingly addictive energy. I miss her smile, her laugh, her taunting banter. I miss our bickering and damn, if I don’t desperately want to feel again the way I felt when I kissed her.

That still doesn’t help me figure out what the hell I’m going to say to her. Or whether she wants to hear it.

She hurt me, she hurt a lot of people...

But I hurt her too.

With my words and actions and rejection the night of the wedding mess, I pushed her away and while it was an act of self-preservation, I’ll deserve it if she decides to protect her heart now.

I wait a few more minutes, but she doesn’t answer.

I put the Jeep in Reverse and back out of her driveway. Window down, the warm summer breeze blows through the Jeep as I drive away from the beautiful, rich neighborhood. My heart and mind in conflict.

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