“What was going through your mind when you were stuck on the ledge for so long?” Cassie asked her.
Chocolate and her electric bill and forget-me-nots, Sean thought, smiling as he remembered. But especially the forget-me-nots.
“I thought about how precious life is,” Annabelle said, sneaking a quick glance Sean’s way. “And how we shouldn’t waste a single moment.”
“Give me a break,” he heard Derrick mutter. “That’s such a cliché.”
Peter was interviewed next, and he spoke of Annabelle’s value to the department and how she was a trailblazer in her field of study. Sean didn’t hear what Derrick said in response, but he heard Lottie’s retort.
“Look at you, Derrick,” she said. “You’re so petty. You just can’t stand the attention she’s getting. Your professional jealousy is off the charts!”
“I just don’t get why they’re treating her like a hero,” Derrick said. “All she did was live.”
Annoyed, Sean leaned forward and gave Derrick a look. On Derrick’s other side, Cody did the same thing, and the firefighters exchanged a this-guy’s-such-a-douche look.
Sean hated that Annabelle had to deal with a loser like Derrick every day at work, and he had the sudden urge to protect her from Derrick’s negativity. All she did was live . . . what the hell? Living—surviving—was something to be celebrated. He decided to approach Annabelle and see if he could do anything for her like take her home or run any errands she might have, but before he could, he heard his name being called—shouted—by a familiar voice.
“Sean, Sean! Oh, my word! I’m so glad you’re okay!”
It was Melissa Kristoff, his ex.
His firmly-in-the-past ex, who liked attention a little too much. Of course she would show up to pretend she had a stake anymore in Sean’s safety.
Any other day, he might not have minded a little female attention upon his homecoming, even from an ex like Melissa. Upon arriving, Cody got Cassie throwing her arms around him, and Josh had Hayley to do the same. Even the perennial bachelor Tom Steele at least had his sister, Shannon, show up to welcome him home. Meanwhile, Sean was reduced to standing alone like an unloved doofus, accepting handshakes from the mayor and assorted dignitaries.
But that day, the last thing he wanted was for Annabelle to see Melissa run up and throw herself at him as if they were still an item.
Damn it all to hell and back, he thought, as Melissa did exactly that, causing a mini-scene because of her late and exuberant arrival. Melissa’s arms went around his neck, trapping him, and before he could prevent it, she gave him a full-on, devouring kiss.
It took a moment for Sean to extricate himself, and he wanted to call out to Annabelle and explain that Melissa was his past, not his present and definitely not his future. In his heart, he was beginning to hope that maybe Annabelle would be.
But Annabelle was leaving with Lottie, and she didn’t look back.
11
The next day, Annabelle rode into the lab with Lottie, eager to get lost in the data they’d collected from their excursion to the glacier. The previous day hadn’t provided as much downtime as Annabelle had hoped because her mother, who lived in Anchorage, had heard about Annabelle’s accident on the news and had driven up to be with her.
Annabelle’s mom, Susan, ran a bath for her and made a run to the grocery store to stock up on food. She coordinated with Lottie to retrieve Annabelle’s car from the airport. She tidied the apartment and made meatloaf and mashed potatoes, Annabelle’s favorite dish from childhood.
Her coming was a sweet gesture, and Annabelle was grateful for it.
But, spooked by Annabelle’s brush with death, Susan also tried to convince her that the world didn’t need another glaciologist and that Annabelle should instead become a high school science teacher, which was about the last thing Annabelle would ever do. She’d hated everything about high school except science classes, choir, and staring dreamily at Sean Kelly. She couldn’t imagine how to relate to kids that age. Yuck and no thank you.
It was a typical suggestion, as neither of her parents really understood her, and when her mother had offered to stay the night, Annabelle directed her to head back home so Susan could arrive at work on time for her job as a clerk at the post office. In truth, Annabelle had a desperate desire to down a couple of warm drinks generously laced with Bailey’s Irish Cream, dive into her stash of chocolate, and catch up on her favorite escapist sci-fi TV shows without having to listen to her endlessly chatty mother.
Susan indeed left after dinner, so Annabelle got her wish. The evening was mostly perfect and mostly peaceful, except her mind kept returning to the moment at the airport when that woman—that polished, perky, everything-Annabelle-wasn’t woman—had kissed Sean. She hadn’t known Sean was involved with someone, and she’d stupidly let herself fantasize about a relationship with him.
Now she felt like she’d lost him.
Dummy, she told herself. You never had him in the first place. You didn’t have him in high school, and you don’t have him now. He was just doing his job.
She went back and forth on that, because Sean had taken her hand during the flight back off the glacier, and she knew that wasn’t in his job description. And there had been looks. Meaningful looks. She was far from an expert on when a man was showing interest, but he’d looked at her in a way that Josh had not, and that Cody had not, and that Tom had not. Sean’s looks made her go all soft and warm and melty inside.
Or was she reading into the whole thing?
Given the woman who’d kissed him like she owned him, Annabelle decided she must have been.
And that was too bad.
It was too bad Sean was spoken for.
Having had one more Bailey’s drink than was probably advisable, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep but not before having the sweetest drifting-off fantasy starring herself and Sean. It was a summer picnic, and they were in an alpine meadow lying naked on a blanket, their bodies intertwined. His thigh was between her legs, pressing upwards and causing the most pleasant of tingling sensations, while her hands roamed his chest, pausing only to feel the beating of his heart.
Everything about the image was so pure—the green of the grass, the blue of the sky, the purple of the forget-me-nots. But purest of all was the look of love in Sean’s eyes.
It was good Annabelle fell asleep quickly because the image made her sad.
She realized that she already missed him, and she missed what might have been.
The next morning, Lottie collected Annabelle to take her to the lab, where they shared a small office. Annabelle intended to get a bit of work done before Derrick arrived, but she’d resolved to find the time that day to tell him things were over between them.
Given their lackluster relationship, she didn’t expect it would take long or be dramatic. Knowing Derrick, he’d shrug and say fine, and that would be that. Or, sensing where she was headed and wanting to save face, he might jump in and break up with her first, which would be all right by her.
As long as it ended, she didn’t care how it happened.
The Department of Glaciology and Climatology was one of the most respected in the country and received significant state and federal funding to enable its research. Annabelle’s lab was on the eastern edge of the sprawling Alaska State University campus in one of the newer buildings, something she was particularly thankful for that day because it had an entrance ramp, unlike her apartment building. Her ankle was immobile inside an ugly black plastic brace and she was using crutches only outdoors, mostly to guard against slippery sidewalks. Going up and down stairs was tricky, as she’d learned accessing her second-story apartment.
Once she and Lottie had dropped their coats and bags in their office, they went to the lab’s large walk-in ice core freezer to start work on the samples from their research trip. Peter had been able to bring the samples and their equipment with him on the rescue helicopter and had stored the ice cores as soon as they’d arrive
d back in Golden Falls.
Annabelle hobbled into the brightly lit vestibule. It was chilly, and four bright yellow parka coats hung on hooks, while a rack below it held pairs of heavy, insulated rubber gloves. A large sign on the wall said “Caution—Ice Core Lab is kept at -36°C at all times. Cold gear is mandatory.” Next to the sign was an industrial steel freezer door. A small sticker was affixed to it, featuring a cartoon cat saying “Brrrrr! Don’t Freeze to Death!”
She suited up carefully, feeling off-balance because of the bulk of her ankle brace. First came the parka and then the gloves. She wrote her name below Lottie’s on the whiteboard labeled “Safety Roster” to indicate who was working inside. Then she swiped her access card across the reader and the freezer door unlocked with a soft thunk.
Lottie opened the door and stayed next to Annabelle as she made her way inside. The ice core lab was filled with gleaming steel tubes stacked the length of the space, with several more rows on either side. It was like a library of the earth’s past, with each ice core a book containing a picture of how things were millions of years ago.
They pulled out one of the long tubes from their Kahiltna trip and Lottie carried it into the clean room, where filtered air kept out any particulates that might contaminate their sample. For the next half hour, the two women worked on a small cross-section of the sample, measuring layer thickness and using a microscope to take photos of particle deposits.
While waiting for the photos to upload, Annabelle thought about how she would start the conversation with Derrick. Despite her resolve, she had a nervous dread in the pit of her stomach. She shied away from emotional discussions and although she definitely didn’t want to date Derrick anymore, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
Just pull off the bandage and be done with it, she told herself.
When she and Lottie finished with the sample, they put it back in its place and checked themselves out of the ice core lab, erasing their names and hanging up their cold gear.
When they got back to their office, Annabelle was surprised to find Derrick sitting at her desk in his familiar slightly hunched pose, using her computer. It was clear he’d heard them coming because he’d shoved back from her monitor and was starting to stand.
“Excuse me!” Lottie said, entering first. “Did we say you can be in here?”
Derrick gave her a disdainful look. “What’s the big deal? I’m in here all the time.”
“Since when?” Lottie said, looking back at Annabelle. “Not when we’re not here.”
“But you are here,” Derrick said. “I just needed to double-check the GPS data from Kahiltna. I need the data for my model, too, you know.”
Annabelle had been just as annoyed as Lottie to see Derrick in their office but had no desire to start an argument, knowing she was about to break up with him. And so she kept her voice neutral. Friendly, even. Derrick was right; they did share the same dataset.
“Did you get it?” Annabelle asked.
“I did,” Derrick said.
For whatever reason, he looked vulnerable. Tension lines creased his face. His dishwater-blonde hair was always slightly unkempt, but that day it appeared stringier than usual, and the plaid shirt he wore under his favorite blue sweater was untucked on one side as if he’d gotten halfway done tucking it in and then forgot to finish.
“So, ah, can we go somewhere and talk?” Annabelle asked. She caught a glance from Lottie, who gave her a quick and definitive nod of approval.
“About what?” Derrick said.
“Just can we? Your office, maybe?”
“Tell you what,” Lottie said, grabbing her coat. “I’m going to the union to get some breakfast. You guys talk here. Just be done by the time I get back.”
“Will you get me a breakfast burrito?” Derrick asked her.
“No. Annabelle, do you want anything?” Lottie asked.
Derrick scowled. Annabelle wanted to laugh but didn’t let herself.
“I’m fine, thanks,” she said.
Once they were alone, Derrick looked at her expectantly. “So?”
He was leaning against her desk. Sitting on it, really. Annabelle stood firm on her one good ankle and held her other foot slightly off the ground to keep the pressure off it.
“Derrick,” she said. “Move. I need to sit.”
He gave her a withering look as he pushed his lanky body away from her desk. She lowered herself into her office chair, and Derrick sat in Lottie’s.
“Have I done something to piss you off?” she asked.
“I don’t know, Annabelle—did you?”
“I feel like I have a million reasons to be mad at you, but I can’t honestly think of one reason for you to be mad at me.”
“That’s because you’re Saint Annabelle.”
That’s new, she thought. And odd.
“Saint Annabelle? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” Derrick crossed his arms. “Never mind.”
Part of her wanted to pursue it, but the larger part said it didn’t matter anyway and not to waste her time. She went with the larger part.
“I’m just going to come out and say it,” she said. She pushed through the buzz of dread and continued. “It’s over between us. Whatever it was, it’s over.”
A curious rainbow of emotion crossed Derrick’s long face. First was derision, and Annabelle could feel the vibes of active dislike toward her, followed by a stunned moment as the reality of what was happening set in. Next, he looked almost scared, and then he looked darn close to devastated, which was unexpected.
“Wait a second. Why?” He made the most direct eye contact with her that he had in months. Like he was really seeing her rather than merely dealing with her.
“Why?” She could have listed so many reasons, but she didn’t want to draw things out. “We’re just not . . .” She summoned a deep breath. “We don’t have a reason to be together, Derrick. We never really did. I think we just fell into our whatever-it-was without thinking. I mean, neither of us cared enough to commit or even to label our relationship, and that’s not what I want anymore. I don’t know if I ever actually did, but I definitely don’t anymore.”
He stared at her. “Well, let’s commit, then.”
She was so surprised that she laughed. “What?! No. I swear, Derrick, half the time I think you don’t even like me. Even as a person or a scientist, much less a girlfriend. And I know you don’t like having sex with me because you never seem to want to. How do you think that makes me feel, to be so unwanted?”
It embarrassed her to say it, and she was mad at herself for letting her voice shake. She hadn’t intended to go there, but it was how she’d felt for so long: that Derrick had her and didn’t even want her. Which was why his response—his offer to commit—had rattled her.
“I want you when you’re wantable,” he said.
“Lovely,” she said, as fresh fury coursed through her veins. “Real nice, Derrick. You know what? I honestly couldn’t tell if you cared whether I lived or died on that mountain this weekend. I was terrified, and you didn’t even—” She choked on emotion as she remembered how frightened she’d been. “Everyone took care of me except you. Everyone.”
“It looked to me like that dumbass rescue guy was doing a pretty good job ‘taking care of you,’ and you sure were eating it up, looking at him all googly-eyed. You made a fool of yourself, Annabelle.”
Derrick knew how to strike a blow where it mattered. Annabelle had to shove away her insecurities before she could go on.
“Sean was nicer to me in five minutes than you’ve been the entire year we’ve been together. The only dumbass person there, Derrick, was you. You were acting so strangely. Antisocial and rude. Lottie says you’ve been acting weird around here, too.”
“I’ve been under stress, Annabelle.” He was practically shouting. “In case you haven’t noticed. I have a dissertation due and a professorship to get, and —”
“We’re all under stress,”
Annabelle snapped. “I’m in the exact same position as you trying to get my dissertation done and find a job afterward, but we’ve got to hold it together.”
“Oh, and so breaking up with me is how you’re going to help me hold it together?”
“It’s not my job to hold things together for you! I’m taking care of my own self, which is what you need to do for yourself, too. I don’t know if you’re not sleeping or if you’re having trouble managing your time or your research isn’t coming together or what, but Lottie’s right. Something is off about you lately, and you need to figure out what it is and deal with it.”
Derrick started to say something, but she held up her hand to stop him.
“I’m done talking.”
“Could you listen, then?” he spewed. “Could you just listen to me for a change?”
For a change. As if she hadn’t spent the entire last year attempting to understand the enigma that was Derrick.
“I’m done listening, too.”
“So that’s it?” he asked. “It’s just over?”
“Yes, and I don’t understand why you’re so surprised by it.”
He exhaled. Ran his fingers through his hair, straightened up, and then changed his expression to one of conciliation.
“You want to have sex more often?” he asked. “We can do that. Like what—twice a week? Three times a week? We can do that. We can make that happen.”
Annabelle couldn’t help but laugh. No, thank you. “More like never again, Derrick.”
“You’re going to regret this.”
His tone was matter-of-fact. As if he knew her better than she knew herself.
As the seconds ticked by, that vibe of dislike from Derrick reappeared and grew, and Annabelle knew then what she’d suspected earlier, that his offer to commit was more a matter of winning, or not losing, than a matter of wanting a relationship with her.
“I highly doubt it,” she said, glad to have heard the door to the lab opening signaling Lottie’s return. “I’ve made up my mind. Of course we’re still colleagues, but the relationship is over.”
Forget Me Not (Golden Falls Fire Book 4) Page 7