Page 86 of Dotted Lines (Runaway 5)

“Good night,” she whispered.

I was almost to the door when she stopped me again.

“Does Holly know about us? About what happened in the past?”

My shoulders fell and I turned. “No.”

She got up from the table and walked closer. “Aria never knew about us either. I always wondered if she did, but she never said anything.”

“You didn’t tell her? Why?”

“Because you were mine. You were the one thing I didn’t want to share. With anyone.” Her confession rocked me to my heels. “Why didn’t you tell Holly?”

“Because I fucked up,” I admitted, the weight of Lou’s letter settling on my shoulders.

“What do you mean?”

“I should have gone with you to Las Vegas.”

A fresh sheen of tears flooded her eyes. “Sweet dreams, Karson.”

“Then I’ll dream of you.”

I shouldn’t have said it, but the words were unstoppable.

When I left, she let me go.

When the door closed, there was no turning back.

I drove the Cadillac home.

Chapter Fifteen

Karson

“It’s Clara, isn’t it?” There were tears in Holly’s eyes. “When you wake up in the middle of the night, it’s because of her.”

“Yes, it is.”

Years of sleepless nights and it was almost always because of Clara. I’d dream that she was hurt. I’d dream that she was calling my name, begging for help. I’d dream that she was drowning in the ocean or standing in the middle of a freeway, stuck between racing cars.

Other nights I’d simply hear her voice. I’d hear her laugh and kiss another man. And the fear that drove me awake was not that she was in danger. The fear was that I’d lost her to someone else.

For too long, I’d ignored it and hidden in work or travel or relocating to new cities. For a time, I’d been busy caring for my mother, who never had woken up from her coma. I’d gone to visit her in hospice nearly every day, speaking to the shell she’d once been.

No matter the current focus of my life, I’d kept Clara’s memory tucked into the quiet corners of my heart.

“Nothing happened,” I promised Holly.

The problem was that I wanted it to happen. I wanted Clara. No amount of time or distance would change those feelings. And Lou’s words had confirmed it all. With every sentence, I’d known the right choice. He’d entrusted Hope’s rings to my care, and they belonged to Clara.

Ho

lly deserved the truth.

After I’d left Clara’s room, I’d called Holly and told her I was coming home. I’d asked her to wait up. Maybe she’d heard the breakup in my voice because when I’d come through the door, she’d been in the living room. Her backpack had been beside the door, closed and full. I suspected that the toothbrush she’d left here and the extra clothes were inside.

“I’m sorry, Holly.”