Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Cole, really, do you think they’d believe me if I told them?” Aimee asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Good point,” he says, scrunching his eyebrows together. “Do you think they’ll ever believe it—when we decide to tell them?”
She puts her hand over his. “Honey, if I can believe it, they’ll definitely believe it, with time. Especially Mom. She’s been dreaming of this since that night. Trust me,” she says sadly, and I can see the years of hurt that she’s been put through over something that she had no control over.
Chapter 15
Present
Our trip to the farm is a quiet one since we’re both still processing this new information. Cole went from elated to pissed off for not remembering. Then he was sad for his family and himself—until he settled on being relieved that we were both okay. He’s been sneaking looks of wonder at me when he thinks I’m not watching. I don’t blame him—I feel the same way. The man that I love and hope to spend the rest of my life with is the same boy who used to chase me around the farm and secretly thought of me as his princess. I smile at the thought and squeeze his hand a little tighter.
As we drive through the tall grass, Cole curses for not thinking to bring a mower. We spot a clear area, where the grass looks as if it has been burned, and we park there. We get out and stand on the bed of the truck for a better view. Now that we remember, this place is starting to look familiar, but it’s still different from my dreams. Things looked more colorful as a child—I guess that’s one of the many truths of life, though. We sit down next to each other with our legs crossed, and face the deserted plain.
“Do you remember why we used to come here?” he asks as he looks around.
“No, I just remember always looking forward to seeing you,” I reply as a slow smile creeps up on my face.
He smiles and pulls me close to him. “I remember that, too.”
“You used to come with your dad,” I say.
“Yeah, and you used to come with yours.”
I nod. “I think I used to call it my grandfather’s farm, but that wouldn’t make sense...if it was, why would it be under your name?”
He scratches his head. “I have no idea.”
I sigh. “I’m going to go see Mark this week-again. I need him to give me more information. He must know more than he’s telling me.”
“I’ll go with you,” he suggests.
I purse my lips and think about it. I guess it would be okay. Mark hinted that he knew about Cole.
“Sure, why not?” I shrug.
Cole’s first day of work in Chicago is Monday. He brought all his stuff with him on this trip and is moving in with Aubry and me. Aimee had asked—before this ordeal—if I thought it was too sudden. I replied, “I’ve lived with him all my life, how could it be too sudden?”
We know each other better than we know ourselves, there’s no point in doing the whole “You get your own place, and I’ll keep mine” thing. Besides, I live with Aubry. How weird would it be to tell Cole he can’t move in with me? I snort at the thought—as if he’d be okay with that.
We stay on the farm for the better part of our afternoon before heading to see Maggie. We had promised her that we would have dinner at the house and stay the night if it got too late. I guess we were staying the night after all. We walk up the creaky porch steps, and Cole mumbles something about fixing it in the morning. I knock on the door when we reach it. We all still have a key, but I feel weird using it. Cole jams his key into the hole and turns it before I stop his hand and glare at him.
“What?” he shrugs.
“We don’t live here anymore, Cole.”
Maggie opens the door as we are about to argue and shakes her head at us.
“Blake, this will always be your house. Let the boy use his key.”
I smile at Maggie. Her hair has gotten whiter and her face has creased with age, but her brown eyes still glow with gentle wisdom. She hugs me, and I put my arms around her wide hips. She and I are about the same height. Greg used to always call us “shorties”—but then again, he used to call anybody who had a vagina that. I follow her to the kitchen while Cole takes our bags upstairs. I wonder if he’s going to put them in my room or his. This is the first time we’ve been back here as a couple. I know he’s not even going to pretend that we’re sleeping in separate rooms, though.