Page 46 of Hensley Manor
“Have you looked in the mirror yet this morning? I think you’re crazy already. You look it, too.”
“Okay.” I held up the snow globe. “I just spent over a week in this house. It’s supposed to be Christmas Eve today, but it’s not. It’s like time hasn’t moved at all here.”
Lance blinked. Then blinked again. “Wow, Cole. You really over did it this time, huh? Are you doin’ drugs now? Be honest with me.”
“I’m not doing drugs, dammit! I’m telling the truth.”
“If you just spent a week there, then tell me how it’s possible you hung out with me in town last night? Hmm?”
“I…I can’t explain it.” I looked at the manor through the glass.
“Because it didn’t happen, dude.”
“Itdidhappen.”Right?
“Stop this,” Lance said with an irritated edge to his voice.
“I need to find my way back, Lance.”
“Enough with the crazy talk. It was just some vivid dream, probably caused by the damn whiskey you drowned yourself in last night.” He reached for the snow globe, and I held it away from him. “Give it here.”
“Why?”
When he lunged for it, I spun away from him and bumped into the end of the couch. The snow globe fell out of my hands and crashed to the floor.
“Fuck!” I dropped to my knees in front of it, my eyes stinging as tears surfaced. The broken shards matched the ones inside my chest.
Any chance of me going back was shattered.
“It’s just a snow globe,” Lance said. “I’m sorry it broke, but there’s no reason to get so upset. I can buy you another one.”
“You don’t understand.” I could barely see the broken pieces now. Tears streamed down my cheeks.
“Cole, I’m worried about you.” Lance placed his hand on my shoulder. “What can I do?”
“Please just leave. I need to be alone right now.”
“Fuck that. You’re always alone. I’m not leaving you.”
“I’m okay. I’m just…” I fell backward on my ass and scrubbed my hands over my face. He would never believe me, no matter how hard I tried to convince him. I wiped at my eyes and cleared my throat. “You’re right. It was just a dream. I probably need coffee and food. Need to give my brain time to wake up, I guess.”
Lance looked at me suspiciously but thankfully backed off. “I’ll start you some coffee. Go shower. You stink.”
My gaze dropped to the smashed snow globe. The water soaked the carpet and glass was everywhere. But the manor—a place I could’ve easily called my home—was only chipped. Not broken completely. I carefully grabbed it, being mindful of the glass, and examined it.
“I’ll clean that up,” Lance said, waving a hand at the mess.
I nodded and walked down the hall, but I took the manor with me, knowing he’d throw it away if I didn’t. I placed the chipped piece on my dresser before grabbing a clean change of clothes and heading into the bathroom to shower.
My mind battled with itself. The time with Ian had seemed so real, but logic told me it wasn’t possible. That he didn’t exist. So, why did my heart hurt so much? How could I close my eyes and see his face perfectly? I could still hear the sexy raspy tone of his voice. Could still smell his skin.
And then I started to cry, stifling my sobs as best as I could. The future I’d planned with Ian wasn’t real.
It’d never be real.
Later that day, after Lance was confident I wasn’t having a mental breakdown and left, I sat alone at my kitchen table and stared at my phone. First, I scrolled through my contacts and verified that Lance’s number was the same. So that part of the dream—or whatever it was—wasn’t true. His number had never changed.
But what about the rest?
