Page 161 of Fated

I look up at him and fight the urge to lean into him and let myself be wrapped in the arms of a man I’ve never met.

“I forgot to ask,” he says.

His warmth calls me closer. “What?”

He reaches out, holding his hand an inch away from my face, the heat of him calling me.

“Fi?”

An earthquake rumbles in my mind. I shake my head at the roaring, at the world shaking.

“Fi?”

I’m plunged into a wild, turbulent sea. The waves consume me and I’m spinning.

And suddenly lights are shooting at me, images hitting me at light speed, snapshots of memories and pictures of dreams.

—What does Fi mean? It’s a code word. Why? It’s so you know I’m me.—

—"Hope" is the thing with feathers—That perches in the soul?—

—You want me to kiss you? Yes. Right now? Yes.—

—Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand. And Eternity in an hour.—

— If you ever need me, if you ever find yourself awake at night wanting me, I’ll be here. I’ll be here loving you.—

— Come to me. Find me in Geneva. Come on Christmas Eve two years from now. I’ll be waiting for you. My name is Fi?—

“Fi?” Aaron asks.

He holds me up, his hands gripping my arms, keeping me upright. The world snaps, pulls, shudders, and then, as suddenly as an island falling into the sea, as quickly as diving into the depths of the sea, I remember.

I remember.

I lift a shaking hand, brush it across Aaron’s warm cheek, let out the breath I’ve been holding since Christmas Eve, and whisper, “Yes.”

The snow begins to fall in earnest, and Aaron McCormick, the man I love, kisses me.

57

Aaron holdsme in his arms, whispering my name, and then his mouth crashes over mine and I cling to him as a wave of love washes over me. I forgot. How could I forget this?

Aaron runs his hands over me as if he’s desperate to touch every inch, as if he has to hold me to make certain I’m real. I lift my hands to his face, feel the heat of the stubble at his jaw, and run my hands through his hair—longer now than before.

He makes a low sound in the back of his throat and takes my mouth, kissing me with the passion of years of waiting for this single moment. His mouth is warm, his lips the seeking softness I remember. Snowflakes light on my skin and melt in pinpricks against my heat.

The aching hole in my chest, the echo of a song forgotten, is filled with the sound of my name on Aaron’s lips, the feel of his hands brushing over my face, and the light of sparks dancing over me and settling in a sun-bright glow in my heart.

He settles his mouth on mine, and in the touch of his lips and the whisper of my name I taste the yearning and the love he’s kept these past two years.

I fold into him then, pressing my chest against the warmth of him, and he pulls me closer, wrapping his warmth around me. I’m spinning like the snowflakes whirling around us. My cheeks sting from the cold and our kiss tastes like the salt of the ocean. A tear pools at the corner of my lips and Aaron kisses it away.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “Fi, it’s okay. I found you. I came to Geneva.”

I look at him then, pressing my hand to the warmth of his cheek. “I forgot you. I forgot my dreams.”

He nods, settles his hand to the crook of my spine, and holds me close. “I couldn’t find you. Geneva is a big city to find one woman named Fi.” He smiles down at me, his eyes warming. “Until you made that watch.”

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