Page 93 of When Hearts Remember

“For the next two months, you’ll be working with Ethan—reviewing and analyzing the numbers, interviewing, and whatnot. We know one thing that the younger generation wants—transparency. We also know one type of person the same generation doesn’t trust—CFOs and CEOs. So, you’ll start with him, gather enough info, then conduct an interview we’ll use in our campaign. Then, you’ll move on to Maxwell. Finally, we’ll put everything together and create another award-winning marketing makeover under the direction of the god of marketing,” he points to himself, “and the brat of PR.” He points to Lana.

“Asshole.” Lana playfully jabs Rex, who bats her away.

“Toxic work environment. I’m talking to HR and—”

“Ugh, how are you older than me?” She shakes her head and pats my icy hand. “It’s a lot, but don’t worry, you won’t be alone—we have other managers and team members assigned to help you. Take some time to soak it in.”

The Andersons direct their two toothpaste-commercial grins at me, and I falter, my heart suddenly sprinting laps around my rib cage.

I don’t know if it’s because I’m overwhelmed at the scale of the project and the spotlight that’ll be shined on it…

Or if it’s because I’ll be in close proximity with a man who unsettles me.

A man who looks like he holds the secrets to my new world.

Chapter 31

The club pulses tothe sultry beats of a hip-hop mix during my second girls’ night out with Taylor and her friends at a nightclub inside The Orchid. Taylor’s OG gang—her sister, Grace, and best friends, Millie and Belle—couldn’t make it tonight.

Pursing my lips, I reread Polaris’s email to me last week, answering the question I posed to him. We write frequently now—once a week, at least. Sometimes, they’re short. Other times, they’re full-on philosophical discussions about life.

The same familiar tingle appears behind my rib cage whenever his name pops up in my inbox. There’s an invisible kinship I feel with him, and also a sense of safety.

Fear doesn’t grip me when I read his emails.

It’s like magic.

To:[email protected]

From:[email protected]

Subject: Rebuilding

I never answered your question from before—what’s something I’ve created that I’m most proud of. To be honest, it was hard for me to come up with an answer that didn’t sound perfunctory or fake.

I could say I’m most proud of my work achievements—developing and growing a strong team at my company, growingprofits exponentially—all the things you might expect someone in corporate America to say.

But they ring false.

And since Letters of Hope is a program founded to help patients get back on their feet, honesty is something I should embrace.

I want to be true to you, Alexis, without compromising the rules of this program. While I can’t give you specifics, I’ll tell you this.

My achievements are born from a path of pain and loss—a devastating loss I wish I could turn back time and erase. There were days when I wondered what the point of it all was—to wake up every morning and keep going, to pretend everything was fine when I was dying inside.

I wanted to fade away.

I wanted to stay asleep and keep dreaming of a past I couldn’t reclaim.

My heart twists at the visceral grief in his words. So palpable, I wish I could find him and hug him with all my might.

But I knew I had people who relied on me, people who loved me. I couldn’t disappoint them. And so, I’d drag myself out of dreamland each morning into the harsh reality of the day. I’d put one foot in front of the other, to live and build my life because I knew the person who mattered most would want me to be strong and continue on.

Slowly, I built an impenetrable armor for myself, and I created a life after tragedy. A successful one. One I knew she’d be proud of if she were here, even though she wouldn’t recognize the person I am now.

Idon’t recognize the personI’ve become.

The armor is melded into my skin, and maybe I can’t feel the breeze on my face or the warmth of the sun. Maybe I’m afraid of shedding it because I might step too close to the flames and get burned again, but I’m alive and surviving.

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