Heartprints in the Void
⊰ 20 ⊱ Conversations With a Ghost: Part 2

Cade's words hang heavy in the air between us, the reality of the implications of his father's actions sinking in. I search his face, hoping to replace a sign of the man I once knew, a man haunted by the ghosts of a past he can't remember. *It's like I'm sitting with a stranger...*

I part my lips to speak, desperate to try to replace the words to bridge the growing chasm between us, but I falter. How do you rebuild trust when the very foundation doesn't exist anymore? How do you move forward when the past is one big mess with holes of missing memories?

I take a shaky breath, my fingers twisting together anxiously in my lap. I know I should say something, anything, to reassure him, to prove that I'm still the woman he once loved, the woman he can trust. But the words hitch in my throat, trapped behind the knot of fear and uncertainty.

*But I'm not the same person I was.*

My hesitation must be evident to him, because in the next moment, he clears his throat, his gaze intent on my face. "Tell me something," he says, his voice soft and tinged with curiosity. "Besides how obviously beautiful and smart you are... what was it about you that made me fall in love with you?"

I feel my cheeks flush, my heart skipping a beat. I clear my throat, desperate to maintain some semblance of composure, but I can already feel myself start to unravel. Slipping off my cardigan in a bid to cool my overheated skin, I try to gather my thoughts, but then his gaze suddenly fixates on my tattoo sleeve.

His eyes roam over the intricate ink adorning my skin, taking in the swirls of black and gray. I wait for him to comment, to say something about how I've added to them since the last time he saw them, but he never does.

Instead, after a long moment, he lifts his gaze back to mine with a flicker of something unfamiliar in his eyes. "Elysian..." he starts, then seems to think better of it, shaking his head slightly. "Tell me more about your life, about the things I should remember."

I blink, taken aback by the sudden change in topic, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. He did always have a way of keeping me on my toes-it was one of the many things that I loved about him.

"Well, you already know the basics...I think?" I begin, my voice steadier than I feel. "No siblings. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father...he never really recovered from losing her. So he drank himself into an early grave when I was ten."

His eyes soften, but it's as though I'm numb to the ache of the memory of my dad. Over the years, I've grown numb to a lot of things.

"My aunt took me in after that," I continue, my fingers picking at a loose thread on my leggings. "But our relationship was...strained. I lived with her until I got to college and got my own place. And I started over again."

I glance at him, watching him nod with a stoic look on his face. "Go on," he prompts gently, his voice low and encouraging.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the memories that come flooding back. "College was a turning point for me. I met people who challenged me, pushed me to do better. People like your mom, *Dr. O* as I liked to call her."

His eyes widen slightly, a flicker of recognition sparking in their depths. "You were one of her students," he says, more a statement than a question.

I nod, a fond smile tugging at my lips. "She was my favorite professor. Tough as nails, but brilliant and always pushing me to do better. It's actually *because* of her that you and I met."

He arches a brow, his eyebrows knitting together in the next moment. "We met through her? How exactly did *that* happen?"

I take a steadying breath, the vivid scene playing out in my mind like a movie reel. "It was after class one day. I had stayed behind to go over an exam with her, and you walked in while we were talking. You were there to take her to lunch, remember?"

A flicker of recognition crosses Cade's face, followed by a slight frown, his eyes distant. "She invited you to join us, didn't she?"

"She did," I confirm, my heart clenching at the bittersweet memory. "And then, part way through lunch, she suddenly remembered an *urgent* errand she needed to run. She left the two of us there, alone, insisting we stay and finish our lunch."

His lips twitch, a hint of amusement shining in his eyes, a glimmer of the man I once knew. "That sounds like her."

"She knew what she was doing," I chuckle softly. "She saw how well we were getting along. I think she wanted to give us a chance to connect, without her there as a buffer."

He's quiet for a long moment, his expression contemplative. "And did we? Connect, I mean."

I swallow past the sudden lump in my throat, the bridge of my nose stinging as the weight of our history bears down on me. "I thought we did. That lunch turned into coffee, which turned into dinner and...*many* other things," I breathe out, a half-hearted chuckle escaping my lips. "When we were good, we were *really* good. And when we weren't, well... It was passionate."

I pause, exhaling a shaky breath as I try to get a handle of my spiraling emotions and the memories that threaten to overwhelm me. "But maybe I was wrong. Maybe I just imagined it all, saw what I wanted to see..." I trail off, my throat tightening.

He's quiet for a long moment, his gaze distant and pensive, lost in thought. "Elysian," he finally says, his voice low and stern, his eyes replaceing mine once more. "Do you think we could ever be friends again? After everything that's happened?" The question hits me like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from my lungs, my heart clenching painfully in my chest. I feel my eyes sting with fresh tears, the wounds of our past still raw and bleeding.

"I...I don't know, Cade," I whisper, my voice cracking on his name. "I honestly don't know."

"Why not?" he presses, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees as his gaze falls to the ground between his feet. "Help me understand."

*I can't...*

I don't respond, the words catching in my throat. And after a long moment, he turns his head to the side, his gaze meeting mine. The hot tears that threaten to fall blur my vision. "Please don't ask me that," I whisper. "Not now, not after..." *Not after it took me a year to stop crying myself to sleep.*

I can't bring myself to finish the sentence or to look at him. I thought I'd gotten past this point, past the point where I think back to three years ago and my heart breaks, but I can't. I still can't do it.

"Ely," he murmurs, reaching out to me. His hand takes mine, holding it firmly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"I think you should go," I interrupt, the words tumbling out in a rush, my voice trembling.

The tears fall freely, and in a desperate attempt to stop the sob from breaking past my lips, I pull my hand out of his hold. I cower my head, turning away as I rise to my feet and wipe the tears from my cheeks.

Cade studies me for a long moment, his eyes searching me, but he doesn't argue, doesn't push. With a heavy sigh, he rises to his feet, his movements slow and deliberate, almost reluctant.

"I'm sorry, Elysian," he says softly, his voice tinged with genuine regret, a sadness that echoes my own. "I never meant to hurt you. Not then, and not now."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak past the lump in my throat. He hesitates, and when it looks like he wants to reach out, to offer some kind of comfort, I begin moving towards the door, away from him.

In one swift motion, I pull the door open, gesturing for him to leave.

*Go. Please, just go.*

I count his steps as he begins his way towards me, my heart fluttering as he comes to a brief stop at the doorway. I can feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to look at him. I can't. I won't.

"Good night, Elysian," he murmurs, moving past me and out the door.

Swiftly, I shut the door behind him, and just as soon as he's gone, the wave of pain I've been trying to hold back suddenly washes over me.

I sink back onto the couch, burying my face in my hands as a sob tears its way free from my throat, the dam finally breaking. Bubbles whines softly, padding over to rest his head on my knee, his warm weight a small comfort in the face of my overwhelming grief.

I don't know how long I sit there, crying until my eyes are sore and my chest aches with the force of my heartbreak, the memories of what we once had playing on a loop in my head. All I know is that, no matter how hard I try to move on, to put the past behind me...a part of me will always belong to Cade Sinclair.

And *that* terrifies me more than anything.