Page 17 of Before the Summer He Found Her

A few more tears slip down my cheeks. “You’requitemistaken.”

And I’ve had enough of this for one night.

Without saying a damn thing, considering he’s a fucking spirit who showed up unannounced and I owe him nothing and he’s fucking terrible at this, I switch on my TV.

Like I planned, I navigate to the correct app and start with my favorite—“City on the Edge of Forever.”

As the episode plays, Tom’s watching me, not glancing at the television at all. Eventually, I tune him out, not sure if he’ll ever leave.

I only know that somewhere during the episode, I look over, and he’s gone.

CHAPTER SEVEN

EZRA

Present

Jerking off the headset, I thrust downward, hanging my head over the side.

“I know what I can ask her,” I barely manage to say.

Her parents.

All the blood rushes to my temple. Sasha and Jeff are near me, but I don’t see them. They’re saying my name, saying other words, but I hardly hear anything. Their words blur into nothing comprehensible as my world spins relentlessly.

When Channah and I touched, all her emotions rushed through me. It was a brief flash, but it filled me with something alien. Another person’s perspective, albeit briefly. In one instant, I felt her nausea, felt her pain, felt the vein pulsing in the middle of her forehead. Felt her deep trauma, her deep insecurities. Not much of it, but the briefest of glimpses that showed me her depression, and the loneliness in her heart.

And I can’t unsee her.

I can’t unfeelher.

The woman who works for me. Who I’m supposed to have professional boundaries with.

I’m afraid our touch has bonded me to her in ways I don’t even yet understand.

But perhaps we were bonded long before our touch in her past.

As my head throbs, I open my mouth, and sickness spews out from inside of me.

CHAPTER EIGHT

EZRA

The next night, I stare at Channah’s picture in our work messaging app. Her bright bubbly smile betrays everything I learned about her—everything I’m learning. My heart pounds in my chest. All I want to do is find her in the present, take her in my arms, and hold her against my chest.

Shit. No, Ezra. No.

Before I have a chance to analyze these thoughts further, I pick up my cell and dial her number. With the full intention of getting some answers. I need to confirm this tonight—to know whether I’ve been dealing with the real Channah or something else entirely. I need to know for my own sanity.

Channah answers on the second ring.

“Hey,” she says, her tone as bright as her photo in the work picture. “What’s going on? Is this about 1458 Fairbank Street? Fuck, that site had all kinds of problems. I’m still waiting on news about the fiber situation.”

“Ah, I see,” I say, trying to ascertain the most managerial response before I dive into the actual reason for my call. “No, I don’t think there’s much we can do at this point with 1458; we’re in a standstill until the fiber team goes out. I, umm, Channah… I’m not calling you about work.”

“Oh, you’re not?”

I can’t be certain, but she soundshappyto hear that.

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