Where was Mina?
She was standing in the middle of the street, her hands falling limply at her sides, with tears running uncontrollably down her cheeks.
She knew.
I knew she knew.
There was no doubt now that she knew exactly what was going on. Who I was. Who I once was.
I saw the moment she compartmentalized it. Saw the moment that she decided that she couldn't do it.
She walked into the house, came back out moments later, still crying might I add, and walked back to her car. All the while I watched her, a sick knot in my stomach that was on the verge of pain.
She got into her car, stared at me for a few more long moments, and then backed down the road, turned it sharply like she was in a hurry to leave, and peeled out before speeding down the road.
I watched her go, knowing that everything had changed.
Everything.
Chapter 16
Anybody that doesn't agree with leggings being pants can physically fight me. And I will win because I have superior range of motion.
-Meme
Ghost
I didn't bother to shower. Didn't bother to change. Instead, I rode after her, even going as far as to forget my cut, which I never forgot.
I caught up to her at the police station where she dropped Sienna off with the papers that she'd taken from the house-the ones that had brought her back when she was supposed to be at work.
Then, I followed her, not to her work, but to a spot that I hadn't realized she'd known existed.
When I pulled up, she was already out of the car, and walking down the long, overgrown path, deeper and deeper into the woods until we came to a house.
"I Googled this place," she said softly. "I had suspicions."
I grunted.
"They told me your last name was Lane. Ghost Lane." She laughed, but there wasn't a single ounce of humor in her voice. "I Googled property here, and found this place."
I looked at the house. It was a fixer-upper that really needed some attention.
The reason I'd bought it?
Because it was the very house that Mina and I had dreamed about.
///
At night, we'd take walks together and tell each other our hopes and dreams.
***
"When we have the money, I want a house with a wraparound porch." Mina looked up at me. "I want it to be old. Not new. I want it to have those old creaks and groans as you walk through the house. I want it to have a root cellar and for it to need some work to fix it up." She smiled. "I want to pull up the carpet with you and find out that there's beautiful hardwood floors underneath."
She smiled at me, and I squeezed her hand lightly.
She let go of my hand and reached for it.
Knowing what she wanted, I let her guide my hand to her belly, and I grinned when I felt our baby inside of her, likely doing somersaults.
"That feels so weird," I said as I pushed down. "Is that her head or her ass?"
She snickered.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I can never tell."
I felt something sharp and pointy. "That has to be an elbow."
She shrugged. "Heels and elbows feel a lot alike. The doctor can always tell me where and what she's doing inside of me, and I'm all over here trying to decide if what I'm feeling is her head or her butt."
I grinned.
"Back to this house you want," I said. "I think we could afford an old place, but it won't have everything you want on it."
She pursed her lips. "I want the wraparound porch to overlook a pond or a lake."
I raised my brows at her. "That, I really can't afford."
She shrugged. "We can put that in after, but I bet it would look way better if it were there already."
It would.
I nodded.
"What else?"
"I want it to have those glass door knobs that old houses have, and skeleton keys that go to each door, even the attic."
I grinned.
"And a big red barn that looks older than the house."
I just smiled. Anything that Mina wanted, Mina got.
***
She walked inside, and didn't stop until she was standing in the middle of the living room.
I'd done nothing to the place since I'd bought it over four years ago. The only thing I'd done was maintain it as it was, but made zero changes to it.
This was our dream. This was the house that we'd wanted to fix up together, and I would be damned if I did anything to it without her.
"I made a promise to myself a long time ago," she said, her voice heavy with grief. "To God. To anyone that would listen."
I swallowed thickly, not sure that I wanted to hear what she had to say.
"What?"
"That if I ever got another chance … if you came back to me some way, that I wouldn't squander it. I wouldn't scream. I wouldn't yell. I wouldn't question. I wouldn't hate. I'd love you. I'd love you for every single second that you were gone. I'd hug you. Kiss you. Never let go." She looked up at me with tears in her eyes. "I know you. I … that day at the baseball park … you smelled like you."