Awake (Reflections Book 3)

by A. L. Woods

  “Raquel.” His voice summoned my attention, but his gaze pointed skyward. “What happened to us doesn’t determine our value. It never has. We’re not the events or things that happened to us. You have plenty of wisdom to impart on a kid.”

  Did I? He must have caught my expression closing up, because he drew me closer with one tug of his arm around my waist. “I know with every fiber of my being that you would go to hell and back to protect our kid.”

  “I would.”

  “See?” he said, tapping my nose. “That’s half the battle.”

  “I don’t want to feel ashamed of where I came from, or what happened to me.”

  “What happened to you or me are footnotes in our lives. They helped shape us to be who we are, just like starting our family will continue to shape us, too. We’re not designed to remain the same people forever, Hemingway. You’re not who you were two years ago, and neither am I—we’re better people.”

  He wasn’t wrong; I preferred who we were right now. But the doubt still swept through me. “What if they ask about Holly Jane someday?” My throat weaved, and try as I might to keep a poker face, the muscles in my face deceived me. I could feel the tears pooling again, threatening to break the barrier of my lashes. “What do I say then?”

  Would our kid think less of me? Would they recognize that I had failed my sister? I couldn’t keep her safe. Why would our son or daughter trust me to keep them safe?

  A soft, sad sigh escaped him while he studied me. “The truth.”

  I didn’t like that answer. I shifted in his lap in an attempt to create distance between us, but he fastened his other arm around my waist, bolting me in place. An intense wave of worry whirled through me, my throat closing up on me before I said, “The truth is ugly.”

  “But it’s still the truth, Raquel,” he replied gently, using one hand to sweep my hair behind my shoulders, looping the loose locks around the curve of my ears. “You weren’t responsible for Holly Jane. You didn’t cause what happened. You did the best that you could at eighteen years old, but you had to give her room to breathe and present your parents with an opportunity to parent, and they didn’t. But that failure isn’t yours, it’s theirs. You knew right from wrong at such a young age. You were determined to be her mother figure even at the risk of her hating you, but there was only so much you could do.” Sean searched my eyes, his lips crawling into a sympathetic smile. “That isn’t something you can use as a determiner. You will not fail our kid because of something arbitrary like genetics or where you came from. You’re going to be the mother yours wasn’t, regardless of your past.”

  Sadness clouded over my face, my bottom lip quivering. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against mine until the trembling ceased. When he pulled back, I took a breath that filled my lungs. Then he said, “We’re both going to collectively fuck up sometimes, Raquel. We’re going to say things we don’t mean; we’re going to lose our cool. We’re going to have a difference of opinion on what’s the right way to do something, but you know what? We’re doing it together. Our kids, they’re going to know that they are the brightest stars in our sky.”

  They would know that, wouldn’t they? They’d know that I had a younger sister, and that I’d loved her. They would know that I fought for her. They would know her story and that she lost her life because of her addiction, her need to be loved by anyone, and they would know how my parents had abdicated their responsibilities to us. Maybe they would come to understand me in moments when they felt I was being too overprotective. One thing would be for certain, though, our kid would never go to bed unaware of how much he or she was loved. They would be another beat in my heart, alongside their father, their song louder than any other.

  I wouldn’t repeat the cycle—I would break it and forge a new one, with Sean.

  That realization made a smile slip from me. Shaking my head, I pulled myself out of my reverie, glancing down at him from over the tip of my nose. “Kid,” I corrected. “It’s just one.”

  “For now,” he retorted smugly, shooting me a Cheshire grin. “I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy seeing you pregnant. It might incline me to make it happen again.”

  I gasped, my eyes rounding as the nightmare visual greeted me. Somehow, that seemed scarier than our house had looked to me years ago—and it had been the set of a horror movie back then. “Not funny,” I squeaked, wrestling against him. Sean laughed, tucking his face into the crook of my neck and rubbing his bearded cheek against my skin, eliciting a shudder out of me. “Can we see how I manage with one?”

  Maybe two would be fine, but I wouldn’t give him any ideas.

  “How we manage with one,” he corrected, looking up at me. “We’re doing this together. You’re not alone.” He pressed a kiss against my jawline, his mouth moving to the shell of my ear. “I won’t let you fail, Hemingway. Just like you won’t let me fail, either.”

  I smiled for the first time in hours, nodding my head. “You’re right,” I replied, twining my arms around his neck.

  “I want to take you to bed now.” He slid forward on the cushion of the couch, his arms still firm around my waist. My legs circled around his waist when he stood, holding me, with ease. “I need to make sure you’re really pregnant.”

  The protest came out of me on a mewl, “Sean.”

  “All I need is ten minutes,” he assured, carrying me under the threshold of the archway in the living room.

  “Put me down, I’m too heavy,” I pleaded, failing to keep the laugh away as he made his ascent up the stairs. “Besides, we didn’t turn the TV off.”

  He hummed, pawing at my ass. “Maybe I can do it in five.”

  I wiggled against him, eliciting a small sound of approval from him that shot a hot current of electricity through me. Damn him. “Are you even listening to me?”

  “Not really,” he admitted, clearing the landing. He pressed his hardening length against my belly, each step he took up the treads of the stairs creating a grinding motion between us. “I was thinking about which position would be best for the job.”

  “You are impossible,” I said, sagging against him in defeat.

  “But you love me,” he breathed against my neck. “You love me and we’re having a baby.”

  “I do love you,” I echoed. “And we are having a baby.”

  Sean didn’t bother flipping the light switch on when he carried me into our room. In the darkness, he laid me back on our bed, crawling atop of me, resting on his forearms. Things would be different because we didn’t live in the reflections of our past. We lived in the moment, and our present wasn’t made of see-through glass.

  It wasn’t fragile, because we weren’t, either.

  And as he lowered his mouth to claim mine, I realized he was right. We wouldn’t let each other fail—that was a promise I knew we both could keep.

  If I was uncertain about my pregnancy before, I wasn’t after that night.

  He made sure of it.

  Author’s Note

  I’ve never been particularly good with goodbyes. I get a bit awkward, do that funny foot-to-foot shuffle as I think, ‘we’re going to hug it out, right?’

  So how do you say goodbye to the book babies who turned you from wide-eyed dreamer to author? Well, you don’t—’cause it’s not really goodbye, it’s so long for now.

  Awake is done, the Reflections Trilogy is finished, but Raquel and Sean’s journey, it’s only just the beginning for them and I can assure you that we’ll get glimpses of them in future books, too.

  Now for the serious bit, since I think that’s the point of an author’s note. It’s a bit surreal to think that a few lines of dialogue that popped in my head while working my corporate job became three full-length novels eight years later. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever fathom getting to this point—honestly, even thinking about a year ago, Mirrors wasn’t done (March 2020). I didn’t know that Mirrors would turn into three books, that by the time I hit publish on Shattered, I’d be done writing Aw
ake and by the time I hit Awake, my next book would be done, too. (Stay tuned to the very end to read a snippet of the first chapter for my next book coming June 2021.)

  Time, as I mentioned in the book, is the one thing that we can measure, but we can never stop—we are entirely at its mercy. With time, we grow, we change, we adapt, we fight, and we survive. Dreams was another theme in Awake along with finding ourselves. Oftentimes in the midst of the intensity of falling in love, we forget about who we are. I always knew that Raquel and Sean were going to split up for a bit, but I never really understood the ‘why’ or ‘return to one another’ until they led me there (and that is the only time I appreciate characters going rogue from the outline—otherwise, we’re fighting). When I realized that during that time of grieving the loss of their relationships that they were going to be working on bettering themselves, I knew that was going to be an integral part of their reunification. Those two have always been independents who were burdened by things like loyalty and tradition. They needed to hit rock bottom to get through it… and they needed time. Time to mourn the loss of who they were, who they’d always been, to become who they were meant to be as people and as a couple.

  I’m proud of them, proud of this trilogy, and proud of myself quite fucking frankly. My therapist told me I don’t spend enough time telling myself that, so here I am, immortalizing it in black and white: I’m proud of you, Amanda. You did it when the odds were stacked against you and when people said that you couldn’t—you did it. Please come reference this book when you undoubtedly cry that ‘you can’t do it’ in a few weeks’ time.

  If I can pass on some advice to you as a reader, fellow dreamer, human being: that thing you think you can’t do because you don’t have enough time or there are too many roadblocks? You can do it. If you need someone to believe in you, pick me. Let me encourage you to be so stupidly proud of yourself you’ll want to scream it off of a rooftop. I’ve been saddled by the self-doubt before. I’ve wondered if I can do it even after I’ve done it. I’ve worried I would never measure up or be enough: but I am enough, just like you are.

  Thanks so much for giving me a special place on your eReader and bookshelf and for riding this roller coaster with me.

  And again, read all the way till the end. You’ll figure out whose book is next. (You can’t see me, but I’m enthusiastically wiggling my eyebrows because you might be a little surprised.)

  Acknowledgments

  “It’s not goodbye,” I keep chanting to myself, batting the tears away like I’ve got something in my contact. Seriously, though, it really isn’t. Sean and Raquel got their happily ever after, just like we always wanted, even if it was painful AF to get there. I will love these two for the rest of my life. They taught me so much about myself and writing. I couldn’t become the person that I am today without them. They’ve routinely challenged me, pushed me, and forced me to grow in a way I never thought possible.

  I am immensely grateful to live in a time where, despite being amid a global pandemic, I can still explore, experience and fall in love with Massachusetts and California all over again through the help of the Internet. I am indebted to sources like Boston.com, Boston Globe, Wikitionary (for slang usage) and numerous Wikipedia pages which have imparted so much insight on a city and culture that I adore during a time in which travel and exploration is not an option. Pismo Beach is tiny compared to some of the other places in California, but it’s a place where I did the most daydreaming back in 2012. Should you find yourself in the central coast of California, go visit.

  This book was made possible because of some incredible people in my life–old and new–who have continuously had my back over the writing process of completing this trilogy who need to be thanked (and maybe a monument or two erected in their honor.)

  MAR—You tell me it’ll get easier—I’d like to call your bluff and say it doesn’t: okay, that’s not totally true either, some aspects of it have, and the other parts that haven’t, but you’re always there to cushion the fall. You gave me the confidence to start this journey. You loved me when I wouldn’t love myself. I’m here now because of you. Thanks for always being my biggest supporter, for mopping up my tears, and for making sure I always pick myself up from off of the ground when I stumble. I love you! (He also makes incredible pizza. Go follow him on IG: @sadboy.pizza)

  JP—I know you’re in your mid-twenties, and are much taller than me, but you’re always going to be my baby brother and first best friend. You are destined to do amazing things, believe in yourself the way I believe in you. Thank you for being my first cheerleader!

  ABC—Pãozinha, you CREATIVE genius. Your talent is truly boundless. Your ability to take my half-baked ideas (and more times than not: no ideas) and give them life continuously amazes me. I’m so unbelievably grateful that we’ve gotten to work on these projects together. I’m so proud of your growth, you inspire me every single day. (Go check out her design Instagram page: @_yumenohana_)

  HF—Ham, I think the ultimate compliment was knowing I almost made you cry with this one. Thank you for your constant support, for your incredible organizational skills, and for keeping everyone on schedule. You have characteristics I simply never will, and your ability to problem solve is something that I will always admire.

  LCR—How many times have you had to bring me back down to reality? Too many, probably. Thanks for always knowing what to say when I’m having a moment. Make sure you invest in yourself, too. I’m watching you. (There’s honestly no way to say that without sounding creepy, but I don’t mean it creepily.)

  BLU—Thank you for riding this out with me for three books. You’ve taught me SO much!

  MK—I’m not always this chaotic, I swear. Thank you for helping me out at the last second and saving me from investing in Kleenex stock. (Unless the Redditors say it’s where we should invest in next.) (Actually, I don’t even have a stock portfolio.)

  KN–Thank you for calming me down a million times, Fish. This book was such a wild ride, and I had so many intense moments of imposter syndrome that you helped me work through.

  KJN—Someone once told me, ‘choose your circle wisely’—and when I say I’m glad you’re in my circle, I mean it. You inspire me every single day. You show up and do the work and push through the suck. I’m so proud of you, everything you’re accomplishing and everything you will continue to do. (Check out her Etsy shop ‘ShopKJCalligraphy’)

  SD—Baka, thank you for letting me inundate you with legal questions on a weekly basis, the influx of Snapchat photos, and your never-ending love and support. Maia and I adore you!

  A.B.C—I know it hasn’t always been an easy read...actually, to be honest, the next books won’t be easier either, LOL. Your support means a fuck ton to me. (Can I say ‘fuck’ in an acknowledgement? It’s my book and I’ll swear if I want to.)

  SS—My soul sisters. I cannot imagine a world without you two in it now. I’m so grateful that we found each other during such a strange time in the world. You’re stuck with me forever. (Also, go follow @nishasbooksandcoffee (best book reviews) and @victoriawoodsauthor (an incredible author) on Instagram—you can thank me later for being introduced to their pages, they’re perfect humans.)

  GP—The entire Grey’s Promo team: thank you so much for being so incredibly patient with me, answering my deluge of emails, and reassuring me I’m not a mess. You’re all amazing and I’m so grateful!

  Friends and family—Thank you for your immeasurable support. For always being the first ones to order, for sharing my work, for rooting me on. I wish everyone had this kind of support system.

  Readers—I’m going to be honest; I feel like a fish out of water every time you reach out. It’s followed up by pinching myself to make sure you are, in fact, talking to me about my books. It doesn’t feel real. Thank you so much for reading the Reflections Trilogy, and loving Raquel and Sean as much as I do.

  To the aspiring authors, the writers who want to hit publish, and the dreamers who need a little more
encouragement—There is no better time moment than this one to chase your dreams and make them a reality. I know it’s scary, but what’s scarier is looking back on your life and wondering, ‘what if?’

  Don’t forget to turn the page to see what’s next…

  About the Author

  A.L. Woods is an author of roller coaster romances, caffeine aficionado, and collector of Sailor Moon paraphernalia.

  She lives 40 minutes west of Toronto, Ontario with her partner, Michael, and their 8lb larger-than-life miniature dachshund, Maia–whom they lovingly refer to as their ‘doghter.’

  Woods can be found holed away in her office writing her next novel with a bowl of Nibs within arm’s reach. When she’s not writing, she’s likely belting out an ad-libbed song, emotionally investing in a fictional bad boy with a strong jawline and fluency in sarcasm or inventing fresh ways to procrastinate.

  She believes that burritos should be in their own food group, loves the fall, winged liner, and listening to metalcore at an offensive level.

  For photographic evidence of her shenanigans, or cute photos of Maia, follow her on social media.

  Be sure to subscribe to her newsletter on her website so you don’t miss out on exclusive content!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Allegra

  Five years earlier…

  I’d read once in a high school biology textbook that the human body’s sense of smell bypasses the thalamus in the brain. It mainlined directly to the brain’s olfactory bulb, connecting to the amygdala and hippocampus, and could trigger intense emotion and memory.