Page 133 of When Hearts Remember

I want to know why my body comes alive in his presence.

And as fates would have it, he’s here in my haven, and I won’t waste the opportunity.

“You never answered me. Why do you call me Nova?” I munch on a cucumber sandwich.

“It’s short for supernova.” He stares at the food I handed him, a lingering wistfulness rolling off his frame. “A supernova is a beautiful cosmic event—bright and colorful, more energy than the sun.”

“And you’re saying I’m like a supernova?”

His lips curve up slightly. My heart flutters and I bite back a grin.

He really should smile more.

The ice monster is beautiful when he smiles.

“Well, I can’t look away whenever you’re in the room.”

I gasp and quickly gulp down a few sips of tea. But it doesn’t calm the butterflies in my stomach, the way every atom inside me seems to be aware of his presence. How I can feel his body heat even though there’s at least six inches between us.

How can I feel this way about himandPolaris, the god of war and the soothing poet?

“Do you come here a lot?”

“Sometimes. It’s a special place for me.” He doesn’t offer more.

“I came across it a while back after I had lunch with Dayton. You remember him, right? You guys met at the hospital.”

Ethan stiffens and nods.

“When I walked past this place, it was like coming home. I don’t know how to explain it.” I lean on my elbows and stare at the sky. “Maybe I discovered this place before the accident. I don’t know, but either way, I’m lucky to have found it.”

“Some things are worth remembering. And some things you’ll never forget.” He sighs and lies down next to me.

He said something similar during the interview at his apartment. I wonder what he’s never forgotten.

Silence settles over us.

Thisshould be strange. Me and Ethan—someone with walls more fortified than Fort Knox, the icy Deliminator—lying side by side next to me on the ground, enjoying a peaceful picnic on a perfect day.

It should feel awkward. My mind should race with questions to ask him to fill in these pauses in conversation.

But instead, there’s a surety in my heart—the ache I usually feel isn’t there.

I’m safe. Dark waters, screaming visions, splitting headaches. None of that matters because he’ll take care of me.

I know it in my gut.

“Tell me your dream.” I turn toward him, finding him already staring at me.

His eyes warm a smidgen. “What do you want to know?”

“Did you come screaming into this world wanting to be a CFO? Is the Deliminator a human or a robot?”

Ethan chuckles and shakes his head. “I can never predict what’ll come out of your mouth.”

I toss a napkin at him. “Hey! Quit dodging.”

“Fine, to answer your question,no, I’m not a freak who thinks crunching numbers is my calling. Actually,” his fingers fiddle with thecuff of the dress shirt under his sweater, and I realize he’s once again wearing those cuff links, “I used to want to write. Travel the world, sit outside cafes and people watch. Then take out my notebook and jot down my observations.”

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