Page 57 of When We Meet Again

“Waverly.” A familiar voice comes from behind me, and it’s as if hell has frozen over. We both pause—our lips slowly moving apart, and the only thing hanging on between us is a little string of saliva.

I quickly use the back of my hand to wipe my mouth. It’s a reflex.

Waverly looks over my shoulder and she gasps with wide eyes. Even in the dim lighting, I can tell she’s gone pale.

“Patrick?” Her voice is little more than a whisper.

Shut the fuck up.

CHAPTER 29

WAVERLY

Fortunate:Mr. Kim’s Thai restaurant started selling sushi.

Unfortunate:I once had my palm read. She told me that I was destined for a life of loneliness. And on the same day I went to get a tarot reading, she told me, “Remember, nothing is ever what it seems.” Fitting. Really. Fucking. Fitting.

Roman’s eyes are wide.Our breathing has gone from erratic to paused. I seriously don’t think he’s let out a breath since I said his brother’s name. He lets go of me and slowly turns to face the same ghost that I am, presumably to see if I’m hallucinating, or if it’s really his brother standing before us.“Holy shit,” I hear him mutter under his breath.

“You—You’re alive.” I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know what to do. I don’t move to hug him, and neither does Roman, but he does reluctantly step away from me, putting a decent foot between us like I wasn’t just trying to cut him open and wear him as a coat.

Patrick’s eyes bounce from me to his brother a few times. He gives no emotion away. Not anger. Not disappointment.Nothing. “I…uh…can we talk?” He gestures to my apartment.Our apartment?

What’s happening?

I turn my gaze to Roman, and his sight is fixed on the rocks at his feet.

Look at me, please. My heart starts breaking all over again, but this time for the other brother.

He doesn’t hear my silent pleas. Or if he does, he ignores them. But instead, he walks up to Patrick, a tear sliding down his cheek, and throws himself into his arms. Roman starts to sob into Patrick’s shoulder, but Patrick just stares. At me. A look I’ve never seen before simmering behind his eyes. And I’m frozen by that gaze, the hairs on my spine standing on end like a deer caught in the headlights. All I can do is watch the two brothers embrace, dreading the inevitable conversation that’s about to follow. Willing them to be so overcome by brotherly emotion that whatever conversation we’re about to have can wait until tomorrow.

But after what feels both like an eternity, and not long enough, Roman finally pulls away. “Listen, man…”

“Don’t.” Patrick’s brows pinch. “We’ll talk, but I need to talk to Waverly first.” Patrick watches my reaction, but I can’t offer him anything when all I want to do is tell Roman that this changes nothing between us.

“Let me talk to Rome? Please?” I tuck my hair behind my ears. “I’m sorry. I’m just in shock…and I’m…” I walk up to hug the man I was engaged to over a year ago. He wraps his arms around me tightly, but his touch feels foreign to me now. Feels unwelcomed. Being wrapped up in his hug makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong.

He releases me and starts walking to my apartment. “Why don’t we all hang out? It’s been a while, right?” I nod andRoman’s jaw tics, offering his brother a tight smile, his eyes glistening with tears.

As Patrick strolls up the driveway, I turn to Roman who avoids my eyes. I can already feel him pulling away from me. Retreating to how it was before Patrick’s death. Or his disappearance. Or whatever the hell that was.

Roman doesn’t say anything except follows behind his brother into my apartment. He waits at the door, unlike Patrick who just waltzed in and made himself at home. Like I haven’t redone almost everything from the furniture to the paint.

“Thank you.” I squeeze through the doorway with Roman bringing us extremely close, which wouldn’t be an issue, but an extra pair of eyes are on us right now. Eyes that we thought were long gone.

He nods and Patrick claps his hands. “So! What’s been going on? It’s great to see you guys.” Roman and he exchange another hug before he pulls me into a hug. My nerves are on high alert. I feel like I’m cheating on my almost boyfriend with my risen-from-the-dead fiancé. This has to be made into a movie or something.

“Man. What…what happened? How are you here?” Roman asks, not moving from the doorway.

“I’d rather not get into that right now. Please. It’s been a long day.” Patrick opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of water. “You started buying bottled water again?”

My brows pinch. “Well, yeah. I couldn’t afford the water delivery service anymore.” That’s right, we were living the high life, getting spring water delivered in five-gallon bottles before he died.Or didn’t die.

Patrick unscrews the cap and takes a few swigs. “These shits kill the ocean.”

“Right. I guess I can budget the bigger bottles in again,” I concede.

It’s the strangest thing—feeling my newly found freedom and happiness that I worked so hard to get back drain from my body and mind in minutes. A feeling I’m not keen on, but it’s as if it’s unpreventable. And there isn’t anything I can do to stop it except to latch on to my only floating device.

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