In All My Dreams, page 16
“Here, at Crane Manor.”
I take another calming breath, hoping she’ll follow along. “Okay, that’s good. Now, when does this tale take place?”
She yanks her hands out of mine and covers her face completely as huge, body-racking sobs escape her. I pull her into my arms, holding her close and stroking her back in comforting caresses until she’s ready to talk again.
“It happened the night Irene died,” she finally says, her whole body tensing in my arms.
Irene?
That is not what I was expecting to come out of her mouth. What about my sister’s death could be the cause of Georgia’s distress right now?
“Remember how I used to sleepwalk as a child?” Georgia asks. I shake my head yes; she must have felt it because she continues. “The night she died . . . she was at a sleepover here at Crane.”
I pull Georgia away so I can see her face, and when I see the absolute anguish and guilt in her eyes . . . I know.
“No,” I choke out. “No. Irene was walking home because she never slept well here at the manor, and she fell into the lake and drowned. That’s what happened, Georgia. That has to be what happened. Tell me this is some kind of fucked up joke. Please tell me it’s not true.” My voice cracks. “Please, Georgia.”
“I wish I was lying. I wish it was some nightmare and when I woke up that we’d be whole again, the three of us together like it was meant to be. I wished it was me instead. I’ve wished for that since the moment the lie left my lips.”
“Why did you lie?”
She looks down at her hands, twisting them in the blue blanket in her lap. “Because I don’t remember any of it, Ian. When I woke up, I was in the bathroom with my mother and she was dressing me in a new nightgown. I remember she was crying and kept telling me that none of it was my fault. Then she put me to bed, and when I woke up the next morning . . . I heard your mother screaming,” Georgia says.
“When I was finally told what had happened, that Irene had drowned, I knew somehow it was my fault.” She wipes at the tears on her face angrily. “Because I also remembered my hair being wet after my mother put me back in bed.”
Realization dawns on me.
No.
“You sleepwalked into the lake?”
“Yes.”
“Irene followed you?”
“Yes.”
“And my little sister drowned trying to save you.”
“Yes,” Georgia cries out. “I told you . . . it’s all my fault she died. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I assume that I must have swam out of the lake while I was sleeping. I don’t know why Irene didn’t! She was always a better swimmer than me, but you know how dark and scary the lake is at night. Maybe she just got turned around and couldn’t see the shore, or she was still tired from being up in the middle of the night. That’s what I think must have happened.” Her voice trails off as she sniffles loudly, wiping at her eyes again.
Tears prickle behind my own eyes, and I press my palms hard into my face, trying to stave off the onslaught of the river that’s waiting to be unleashed. I haven’t cried since Irene died, but this. Hearing this. Reliving her last moments, at least as closely as anyone can.
Finally knowing why she was in the lake in the middle of the night to begin with . . .
“But why did you lie, Georgia?” I ask through gritted teeth. It’s the only part that doesn't make sense to me.
She sucks in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “Because my mother told me I had to or else I would be taken away from her.” Her voice is void of feeling, and it forces me to remove my hands from my face. “She said the cops would send me to jail for killing my best friend and that I’d never see her, or any of you guys, ever again.”
“You were just a child,” I say, forcing my own voice to become softer. “It was obviously an accident. It had to be. I’ve been around you when you have your sleep episodes; nobody can get through to you when you’re stuck in a dream. But they never made you violent, Georgia.” I reach over and squeeze her hands.
My heart feels like it’s being shattered in two. I’ve always wondered why Irene drowned. Like Georgia said, Irene was the strongest swimmer out of all of us. And Georgia had no control over herself when she was trapped in those dreams.
For Georgia to keep this secret all her life . . . she must have been so lonely and so scared. It doesn’t make it right that Caroline forced her to lie, to put that type of pressure on a child. That’s unforgivable.
But, if I had a child and this happened to them, I think I might have said anything to make sure they didn’t get sent away.
Does knowing that Georgia was the reason Irene was in the lake in the first place change anything?
No, it doesn’t. Because after all these years, it was still just an accident. A tragic, horrible accident. But an accident nonetheless.
“My little sister’s death wasn’t your fault,” I tell her gently. “I’m sorry that you’ve lived all these years thinking that it was.”
Georgia looks up at me, so many emotions flashing over her features. “How can you say that it wasn’t my fault? I’m the reason she was in the lake! My own mother tried to kill me because she couldn’t live with having a murderer for a daughter! I’ve lived with that guilt my whole life, Ian. I can’t just let it go.”
“Would you want Auden to blame herself if this happened to her? Would you look at her with anything but love if this accident had happened to her?”
Georgia opens her mouth, then closes it again. Her eyes are glued to mine as she shakes her head back and forth. “No, of course not.” Her voice cracks.
“That’s what I thought,” I tell her, flashing a sad but understanding smile. “It doesn’t change the way I feel about you, Georgia. I know this isn’t easy; hell, none of the secrets we’ve kept from each other have been easy. Your mother was wrong, and I’m so sorry for what she tried to do to you. I hate that you’ve lived with this for so many years. But thank you for finally telling me the truth about Irene’s death. You aren’t alone anymore.” I run my hands through my hair nervously. “But you might not feel the same way about me once I tell you why I really left you with nothing but a goodbye note six years ago,” I admit.
Those brilliant gray eyes of hers look at me with such a heartbreakingly confused expression. “Ian, I just told you one of the darkest parts of myself, the secret that’s haunted me for decades, and your response was that you don’t blame me.” She crawls into my lap, fitting herself perfectly in my arms, and lays her head against my chest. “There’s nothing you can say that could be worse than what I did, the secret I kept. I won’t let whatever you did ruin this or change my mind about us, either. You can tell me anything, Ian.”
And so I tell her.
24
Ian
Six Years Ago
It’s been four years since Georgia walked out of my life, leaving nothing but a note on her bedside table for me. A note telling me that saying goodbye would be too hard and that it was better for her to leave this way.
Leaving me in tatters as she ran away from Crane Manor with my heart in her hands.
Sure, in the note she told me to follow her when I was ready. She even made sure to write that she wouldn’t change her cell phone number in case I wanted to get ahold of her one day.
What I wanted was for my parents to relinquish the death grip they’ve had on me ever since my sister Irene died when we were just five years old.
What I wanted was for me not to be such a fucking coward and tell them that I don’t care if they didn’t approve of Georgia. I know in my bones that she is the only girl for me, and it’s time I win her back.
Which is why, four years later, I am staring up at the five-story apartment building she now lives in.
How do I know where she lives when I haven’t talked to her in four years because I’ve been too much of a sour jackass to reach out?
Well, I know this because she sent her father a birthday card a couple of months ago, and Mr. Harris gave me the return address when I asked him yesterday if he knew where she was staying. He handed me the empty envelope with nothing but a sly smile and a wink. A much better reaction than my parents gave me.
My mother cried, begging me to stay, because she couldn’t lose another child. My father laughed, a hideous grin on his lips as he told me that Georgia would just use and abuse me and that I’d be scurrying home with my tail between my legs in no time.
I scoff under my breath. I can’t let my father’s words get into my head and ruin this for me. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for four years, and I won’t let him taint this reunion with Georgia.
With shaking hands, I press the buzzer next to G. Harris.
Her voice greets me almost immediately. “Come on up!” she says through the small speaker, causing my heart to beat faster in my chest when I hear her voice. A loud buzz from the main door rings loudly overhead.
Is she expecting anyone? A boyfriend, maybe? Hopefully not, or this trip will be awkward as hell. Not that I would blame her for meeting someone else. She did leave me high and dry with nothing but a note as her goodbye gesture. After everything we’ve survived together, I thought I knew her better than that. I didn’t think she was capable of being so cruel and heartless.
I make my way inside, and the building is nicer than I expected, but I guess most things in Los Angeles look shabbier on the outside. I opt to use the stairs instead of the elevator because I don’t think I can sit still long enough for the elevator to go four floors. I’m nervous as hell to see her. Nervous, and excited.
Probably the most excited I’ve ever been if the butterflies in my stomach are any indication.
I’m nearly panting by the time I make it to the fourth floor. Taking deep, calming breaths, I shove the duffle bag higher up on my shoulder and scan the numbers until I find Georgia’s apartment: 4G.
The door is painted a bright mustard yellow, which might seem out of sorts if all the other doors on the floor weren’t painted in varying hues of yellow and teal to match the hideous geometric carpeting that lines the hall floors. Large framed photos of Andy Warhol’s pop art collection hang between each apartment door. Georgia’s door has that funky banana on one side and some sort of soup can on the other.
I sincerely hope the inside of the apartments are spared from whoever decorated this monstrosity.
Not that I hate the banana; I might enjoy it in my own house one day. I chuckle to myself when I imagine Georgia coming home every day and being greeted by a giant banana.
It’s absolutely ridiculous.
Okay, okay. Time to rip this Band-Aid of my own doing off. I take another deep, steadying breath as I reach up with a shaking fist and knock on the mustard-yellow door.
My breath gets caught in my throat when she finally opens the door and I see her for the first time in four years.
Four long, long years.
“Ian?” Georgia’s voice greets me, an obvious tremble in her voice as we take each other in. “Is that really you?”
The smile that spreads across her face stuns me into speechlessness.
Her chestnut hair is much shorter than it was the last time I saw her but still complements her heart-shaped face and dark eyes perfectly. She’s wearing a simple white tank top that’s tucked into the tight blue jeans that seem to hug every curve of her. She obviously spends a lot of time outside here in California because her freckles are dulled by her sun-kissed skin.
She’s beautiful.
How could I have stayed away for so long when she smiles at me like I hung the damn moon for her?
“Hi,” I choke out right before she throws herself at me and wraps her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly.
“Oh my God, Ian! I can’t believe you’re here! I never thought you’d come find me,” she says, hugging me tighter to her. “But you finally found me.”
I hug her back, hoping I can transfer every thought and feeling through osmosis. God, I missed her so much. The lavender and vanilla scent that has always seemed to cling to her skin, the way her body fits perfectly with mine, the feeling of her pressed up against me like this . . .
My eyes widen as I realize that Georgia can probably feel everything right now, and I pull away slowly. She looks up at me with those gorgeous stormy gray eyes of hers filled with tears. I reach up and wipe them away softly before I lean in and place a gentle kiss against her lips.
Kissing her is like muscle memory; I can’t seem to stop myself from doing it.
“I’ve missed you so much, Georgie.”
She scoffs loudly and rolls her eyes, almost as if nothing has changed between us in the last four years. “I’ve missed you more.”
Before I can lean in for another kiss, someone behind me clears their throat loudly.
I turn and see a man around our age staring back at us with an apologetic expression on his face. He’s holding a bag of take-out food in his hand.
“Matty!” Georgia says, clearly expecting this man. “I’m so sorry! I was heading down to the lobby to grab the food, but my friend surprised me at the door.” She releases me and steps around me to grab the bag from Matty, then reaches into her back pocket and pulls out cash and hands it to him. “Thank you again for bringing it up. Next time, I promise to meet you in the lobby. Please, keep the change, Matty.”
Matty smiles at her fondly before looking over at me and eyeing me up and down. “A friend, you say?”
Georgia laughs loudly, the sound echoing down the empty hallway. “Yes, Matty. This is Ian, and he’s my dearest, closest friend in the world. No need to fight him off . . . yet.” She turns back and winks at me.
Matty’s glacial eyes nearly bore holes into my body before he turns his gaze back to Georgia. The death glare must be reserved for me only because he looks at Georgia like he might be in love with her, too. “All right, Georgia. I’ll see you in class. You two have fun,” he says before finally taking his leave.
“Come on; let’s go eat the best damn eggrolls you’ve ever had in your life.” Georgia grabs my hand and pulls me into her apartment, closing the mustard-yellow door behind us.
I’ve spent countless days, endless hours, with Georgia throughout my life, and never once has it felt more natural than it does tonight. We’ve spent the last few hours eating, laughing, and catching up on everything we’ve missed over the last four years.
We are still us, and I didn’t realize how nervous it made me to think we wouldn’t be the same after being apart for so long.
It’s like the last four years apart never happened, and we’ve just picked right back up where we left off.
We’ve never put a label on us; we’ve never needed to.
She is mine, and I will always be her’s.
We are lying together in her bed, and she’s wrapped in my arms with her head against my chest. We’ve spent our whole lives cuddled up in similar positions, albeit in a much smaller bed, but tonight, there’s a sort of electric buzz in the air between us.
Something feels intimately different this time.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Georgia says quietly. “I know I’ve said it, like, a hundred times today, but I really can’t believe you finally left Crane.”
I stroke her back in lazy waves. “I never thought I’d leave,” I admit. “But I felt like I was missing a piece of me every time I walked into the manor and you weren’t there to greet me. I missed seeing you swinging your legs on the barstools while you ate something you especially liked.” I kiss the top of her head softly, and when she looks up at me, I feel like everything I’ve been missing in my life is right here in my arms again.
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss . . . home,” she says warily. “But I don’t miss having to look over my shoulder every time I walked the dark halls alone in that house.”
“Do you still see her?” I ask nonchalantly. I won’t force her to talk about her mother’s ghost if she doesn’t want to.
I’ve never seen Caroline’s ghost myself, but I have always believed Georgia when she told me she was being haunted by her mother. Sometimes I find myself envious. I wish I could see Irene once in a while. But then I remember the way Georgia described her mother’s spirit—the rotting flesh and blood. I’d rather not see my little sister like that.
Georgia smiles at me, a real smile. Not forced at all. A smile I’ve never seen when it comes to her mother.
“I haven’t seen her since I walked through the gates leaving Crane Manor. No more night terrors either, or sleeping spells,” she tells me, relief clear in her voice. “I told you that place was haunted.” She pinches my ribs and makes me jump in surprise. “But I don’t want to talk about Crane, or ghosts. Tonight, I just want to be with you.”
The electricity in the air buzzes louder around us as she stares up at me. I sit up quickly, forcing her to sit up with me.
“Are you saying what I think you might be saying?” I ask. “And before you answer that, you swear nothing is going on between you and your delivery boy?”
She giggles and shakes her head at me. “Matty and I are just friends. I’m not really his type.”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “I find that hard to believe. You should be everyone’s type.”
“Matty would prefer someone who looks like you,” she says, raising an eyebrow right back at me. “Now, enough about Matty. Right now, there’s only you and me.”
Her tongue darts out, licking her lower lip as she stares directly into my soul. Her cheeks are flushed, making her look more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her.
“I think we’ve waited long enough. Don’t you think so?” Her voice is low, almost husky sounding.
I reach out and pull her closer to me, kissing her hard as she climbs into my lap.
“We’ve only waited our whole lives for this,” I agree between kisses, making her gasp and melt into my arms completely. “I love you, Georgia. It’s always been you.”
