Waking Rory
Page 17
Catherine.
Chapter 30
The next morning’s headline was staring me in the face along with a rather impressive photo of Rory’s lips on mine. It wasn’t the first time I’d been on the cover, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, but this one felt far too personal for my liking.
Out McCoy Enterprises’ Heiress Leaves Party Early With Mystery Date: True Love or Summer Fling?
“Ev, do you have a minute?” Nash asked from the kitchen doorway.
I nodded, taking a sip of my coffee, and putting down the paper that had come that morning. I was tired of looking at it, anyway. It was mocking me, reminding me that I wasn’t anyone’s true love. I was what they settled for.
Nash sighed. “I need to know where your head is at.”
“Look, Nash, I’ve got a few more months to think about the company, right?”
“No, not about that. About Rory.”
I bit my lip. I was not ready to talk about Rory to Nash. I wasn’t even ready to talk about her to her.
“You knew this was temporary,” he continued. “You’re here on a summer work visa. And I’ve spent these last three weeks trying to get Rory set up here, so she can find a foster family, get enrolled in school, and have a future.”
I nodded, feeling myself go numb.
“But I gather there are some real feelings between the two of you now.”
I looked down. “I didn’t choose to like girls.”
“Even,” he groaned. “It’s not about you being gay. I figured that out a while ago. It’s about Rory specifically.”
“What about her?”
“She’s French, Even. And you spent the entire summer trying to ensure you could finish school in Seattle. We leave in three days. Is that still what you want? Or—”
“Of course, it is.” I sighed.
“Does she want to come to Seattle?” he asked, hesitantly. “Because I’m sure I could find a way to make that work.”
I shook my head. I didn’t know. I didn’t want to know.
“I mean I knew this was temporary.” Not letting my voice crack took all my willpower. “I shouldn’t have let things go so far, anyway.”
No one leaves their home for their second choice. There was no happy ending here. I should have known that. Hell, I did know that, and I let myself fall for her anyway.
“I’m not going to tell you what to do here. I don’t feel like it’s my place. But you and Rory might sit down and talk about it. We’ve found her a foster family, and we have to give them an answer by the end of the week.”
He turned to leave, and we both looked up to find Rory standing in the doorway eyes darting between us both. There were tears in her eyes. She stormed out of the room.
She wouldn’t open the door for me, not that I was surprised. It was Nash who finally got her to talk to him, and hear what he had to say. She told him one thing that really shattered my heart. France is her home.
It hurt, not because I didn’t know it was true, but because in the few weeks since she’d begun calming the storms of my dreams, she’d become my home. Or, at least, the closest feeling of home I’d felt since my parents had died. Knowing that I wasn’t that for her was worse than knowing I would never measure up to who she’d really wanted to wake her.
I felt a turning in my gut as I closed and locked my door. Tearless sobs came first, then the tears came second. My feet gave out as I slipped onto the floor. If either of them heard me, they didn’t come to the door to say anything. Perhaps that hurt the most.
Chapter 31
I wasn’t prepared for how empty I would feel lying in my bed alone again after weeks of drifting off to the rhythm of Rory’s heartbeat. I wasn’t prepared for the fear that came with the nightmares that she couldn’t keep at bay if she wasn’t even here. I wasn’t prepared for how alone I felt waking up from them now that I knew I might never have that feeling of safety again. And I wasn’t prepared for how much I would ache to tell her about it.
The foster family picked up Rory the next morning. She wouldn’t say goodbye to me, and I couldn’t blame her. A part of me didn’t want to either. Leaving things as they were, unspoken, was simpler and less painful.
The ride to work was lonely; even Henry seemed sad. The things we passed didn’t look the same without seeing them with her. France wasn’t France without Rory. I’d never been more ready to go back to Seattle.
“Where is Rory?” Madam Caron asked as I stepped in.
It was my last day. I couldn’t imagine she had a lot of work left for me, especially not with the gala behind us. I was pretty sure this was just a formality.
“She’s gone.” I swallowed hard. “Her foster family picked her up today.”
“Mmm?”
The frown on her face gave me pause. I knew her and Rory had grown close in the last few weeks, but I didn’t think it was that serious.
“She is not staying with you?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I’m going back to Seattle, and France is her home. We both knew this was just temporary.”
“My office, mon cherie.”
My heart raced as I followed her into the glass box, she called an office. Sound proof, sure, but with all the bustle outside of it, I couldn’t imagine how she got anything done. Though, I rarely saw her in there, anyway.
“Tell me.” She sighed as she shut the door. “Did you wake her?”
I sucked in a shallow breath. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Aurora. Did you wake her?”
I swallowed and nodded. There was no sense in lying. She clearly knew, but I wasn’t exactly sure how.
“What did you think that would mean?”
“I don’t—”
“She waited all this time… for you.” Madam Caron looked tired as she leaned against her desk and peered down at me. “I doubted at first that you could be the one, but I saw something in you the day you brought in those coffees. A… drive to prove yourself. And I saw as you began learning French that you are not someone who gives up easily.”
“I’m not.” I swallowed hard. “But she doesn’t want me. I’m not who she wanted to wake her up, and whatever she thinks she feels, deep down I’ll always be second to Catherine.”
“What do you know of Catherine?”
It wasn’t condescending. It was just a simple question. I sighed and looked down.
“Not a lot.” I shrugged.
“Catherine left her, Even,” she scoffed, causing me to look back up. “Catherine was to join her in the tower, and they would wake when it was safe. Instead, she ran.”
“Why?”
“That is the question. Perhaps it was love for Aurora, but something less for Catherine.” Madam Caron shrugged, and there was a glint in her eye. I never thought I would see this fierce, intimidating woman show even the slightest weakness.
“You’re her godmother,” I breathed.
She nodded.
I had so many questions. Starting with how she was still alive after all these years. Did the Fae live that long? Why she was working for McCoy Enterprises? But I felt like so many of them were the wrong ones to ask.
“Why me?” I asked finally. “Are we bound by destiny or something?”
“Non. The spell was simple. She would sleep until a heart worthy of her found her. So, here you are, doubting yourself, but magic does not lie. And it wasn’t the spell that made her love you. It was you.”
“I’m not so sure she loves me.” I bit my lip, looking down.
“This?” She picked up the newspaper I’d been eyeing the morning before. “Is not the face of someone in like. Was I wrong about you? Have you given up so easily?”
Chapter 32
Every piece of clothing I folded and tucked into my suitcase that afternoon sent a wave of guilt washing over me, as the conversation I’d had with Madam Caron turned over and over in my mind. There was no way to contact Rory or her foster family, not until Nash got home, and he wasn’t answering his phone.
No matter what happened, I wasn’t staying here in this house after tomorrow. No matter what happened. Like I could somehow change Rory’s mind. Like I could somehow change my own. Even Madam Caron hadn’t completely convinced me. You couldn’t deny what someone said in their sleep.
Eventually, I was just crying as I packed, and I found myself wandering the house. I went to the spare room first. Something about knowing Rory had been here, slept here, sat in this very window sill made me feel slightly better. Or worse, I couldn’t be sure. I was still crying, so it obviously wasn’t helping.
It smelled like her. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was; it was just Rory. That gave me the feeling of home that made my heart ache. I’d only just turned to leave when a bound leather book caught my eye.
Her journal.
There were plenty of fancy things in the tower when I’d found her, and this book was the only thing she’d chosen to keep. Why would she leave it behind?
It was open when I walked over to it, open to one of the last pages, like she’d filled the entire thing in the last twelve weeks. Maybe she had. It wasn’t like I’d seen her writing in it, but she often told me she couldn’t sleep. Maybe this is what she did with her time. This page, though, was addressed to me.
My Even, I swallowed hard at reading that. I was hers. That’s what I’d said.
I know that you do not believe in fairytales, but I want you to know that you still gave my story the happily ever after it deserved. And because I like the irony, I am going to tell you a story; my story.
Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess born to a stubborn and cruel king and queen. The king brought home his troubles from war, and the queen lived a life of pure vanity. They were disliked among the whole kingdom.
They never took the time to know their child, but rather, tried to mold her into the person they wanted her to be. The queen insisted on beauty, and the king insisted on silence and obedience. And nothing the princess did was good enough for either of them.
They saw her as only a pawn. A means to a better end for their kingdom. With a marriage to a prince in a distant land, the kingdom would thrive. And while the princess wanted to do what was right for her people, the prince was terrible, and she knew she would never love him.
The only solace she found was in the care of her godmother, who told her stories of the Fae and their magic. She promised her that one day, the princess would find true love. And she promised that the prince was not who she would marry.
So, she loved, hard and passionately, turning to anyone who gave her any mind, until she found someone who loved her back. But when the king learned of her disobedience, his rage took over. He beat her until her body was black and blue. He promised to sell the princess like livestock and kill her love.
It seemed that no true love could withstand the evil in her home. That was, until her godmother gave her a choice. Magic comes at a price, and this spell would mean there was a chance she would find true love, but also a chance she would only find heartbreak. All she had to do was sleep.
And so she slept, with dreams of a better future running through her mind until she was woken by a beautiful stranger. A stranger who looked so much like her lost love it ached the very pit of her heart, and somehow gave her hope. Hope that this really was her true love.
Because that was the promise her godmother had given.
I do not know if you are my true love, or if true love does exist, but I do know that you are the love of my life. And for that, a part of me will always be yours.
Love always,
Aurora,
And Even, never stop playing the piano.
At the back of the book, next to the page I’d just finished reading were two drawings. One with my name on it, and one with Catherine’s. The resemblance was uncanny. There were only minor differences in the height of our cheek bones and the width of our noses. I didn’t even know Rory could draw.
As I leafed back through the book, I saw that she had been writing all summer. She’d been writing about me. This book contained every moment we’d had together, her retellings of how she fell in love with me.
But further back, in that section of old French I’d struggled to read before, I could make out some things. Stories about her old life, her old home, her old love. Maybe it wasn’t right to read it, but she’d left it here for me to find. I couldn’t say for sure what she’d want.
She had loved Catherine in that first love, head over feet, “risk it all on a pipe” dream kind of way. But Catherine didn’t love her back. It was obvious even in her own writing that Catherine was playing a part.
From what she wrote about hearing me tell Nash this was temporary, she thought I didn’t love her either. I felt a turning in my gut.
Nash still wasn’t answering, and I was getting annoyed. I’d called him ten times while pacing the living room. I needed to get ahold of Rory. I needed to tell her the truth about how I felt.
Eventually I stopped pacing and sat down on the piano bench, slowly hashing out one half of the Heart and Soul duet. It was sad and pathetic. Until somehow, I ended up going through my recital piece, crying through the last half, but I still remembered it. Every single note.
“I had no idea you could play like that.”
I jumped and immediately started wiping my eyes. “I messed up twice.”
“Could have fooled me.” He smiled, a half-smile, but it made me feel a little better. “I saw you called, everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just needed to talk to you about—”
His phone rang. He let out an exasperated huff.
“I’m sorry, I have to take this.”
Typical. Just when I really needed to say something, Nash absolutely had to take a phone call. This summer really hadn’t changed much. It was already so late, it was unlikely I’d be able to talk to Rory, anyway.
When Nash stepped back into the room, his face was pale.
“What?” I asked.
“Rory’s missing.”
Chapter 33
There was a turning in my gut as I ran to my room and threw on a pair of shoes and grabbed my pepper spray. Nash was following me. He was saying something, but I wasn’t really listening. My mind was too busy racing about all the places Rory could be. Where would mean the most to her? That’s where I needed to start.
“Where are you going?” Nash asked, eyeing me. “Do you know where she could be?”
“The tower.” I mumbled without thinking. Shit.
“The tower? What tower?”
“We don’t have time to talk about it, Nash, I have to go.”
“Well, I’m coming with you. Henry’s left for the night anyway.”
I started to groan, but choked it down. I didn’t want him thinking I was angry. Nash coming with me meant explaining where we were going, why, and what it all meant. It wasn’t like I could tell him the truth, but it didn’t appear that he was giving me much choice.
The two of us raced to the car and climbed in, with me telling Gordon where to go.
“This will take us toward the reserve.” Nash frowned. “She couldn’t have possibly—”
“She could, and I’m sure she did,” I replied. “Turn here. Could you step on it a little?”
“Ev, where are we going, what tower?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it.”
“I can’t without—” I sighed.
“Without what?”
“Not without telling you who she is.”
“Well, who is she?” He nearly snorted. “Who is Rory?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Take a left.”
“Try me.”
I swallowed hard and shook my head.
“Believe me, Nash. It’s not worth trying.”
“Even, tell me the truth.” He was serious now. His tone of voice had deepened well past any hint of lightheartedness. “If she’s in some kind of trouble—”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?”
I looked up at him. He had that same look my dad had given me all the times I’d lied to him as a kid, which wasn’t many. The “you can trust me” face that made me want to spill all my secrets. I felt my eyes swell, because no way was he going to believe this.
“Even, you can trust me.” That did it.
I was crying, like really crying. I wanted to trust him. I wanted to tell him the truth and for him to believe me, but I knew that wasn’t possible. The truth was so absolutely unbelievable.
Runaway? Believable. Orphan? Also, totally believable. Daddy issues? No problem. But convincing Nash that Rory was Sleeping Beauty awoken from a spell 600 years later? No way in hell.
“Ev.” He sighed, trying to pull me closer, but I had to keep my eyes on the road. “Whatever it is, we can sort it out.”
“Turn right here,” I said between sobs.
“My job is to protect you. Whatever it is, I’ll believe you.”
I was trying to slow my breathing as we rushed down the dirt road. It was so dark; I could barely see a thing. But the headlights flashed across a break in the trees.
“That’s it!” I called. “Stop here.”
I flung open the door and was halfway out of the car when Nash grabbed my wrist.
“You can’t just rush off into the woods at night! Are you crazy?”
“Rory’s out there,” I breathed. “I’m sure of it. You said I can trust you. Can you trust me?”
“It’s not you I don’t trust, it’s whatever could be in those woods.” He still hadn’t let go of my wrist.
“Give me fifteen minutes, and if I’m not back, you can send the calvary in after me.” I forced a smile. “Please, Nash. Trust me.”
“Tell me who she is first.” He smirked. He was about to let me win. All I had to do was to let him in first.