One Past Midnight (28 page)

Dex ran his hands through his hair desperately. “Fuck.” And then, frenzied, he grabbed his bag and the bottle of champagne and stormed out of the room.

Once the trembling settled down I checked the time.

11:30 p.m.

I hoped Dex was okay. I considered going after him, but I figured he wouldn't want to see me for a while—if ever. But as awful as I felt, now that it was done I was sure it was the right decision. Dex
did
deserve to be with someone who could make him happy. And perhaps . . . perhaps I deserved to be with someone who was right for me too.

For the first time in my life, I couldn't wait to shift. And the irony was, it was Roxbury I wanted so desperately to get back to. I pulled myself together and decided on a course of action, picking up the hotel phone and calling the most unlikely of people.

“Hello?” Ryan was laughing and I could barely hear him over the noise in the background. His dorm was obviously having another party.

“Ryan, it's me.”

I heard the groan. “What do you want?”

“I, um, I'm not far from you and I was wondering if you might be able to come and get me. I . . . I haven't had a great night.”

Maybe brothers just know what that means, maybe they have this built-in radar that goes off when their sisters
are stranded in hotel rooms, I don't know, but Ryan's tone changed instantly. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I gave him the hotel details.

“Is Dex with you?”

“He was, but . . . he's gone now.”

I let him draw his own conclusions as to what that meant. He was quick to respond. “I'm on my way.”

“Thanks, but . . . can you give me a few minutes? Maybe come just after midnight, like quarter past or something.” I wanted to give myself enough time to shift in private.

“Okay,” he said cautiously. “What room?”

I looked at the door Dex had left open when he stormed out. The numbers were displayed in gold. “Room eight sixteen.”

After we hung up I walked out to the balcony. I wanted a few quiet moments to finally consider my feelings for Ethan.

Who was I kidding? It took about three seconds for me to come to the obvious conclusion. I was totally in love with him. The simple fact that I knew he was kissing me, at this very moment, in my other world and that the knowledge did
not
freak me out was evidence enough. But on top of that, he knew me.

I opened my arms to the night sky and flung my head back to the world of possibilities—the world of what-ifs. To the knowledge that in a few minutes I would shift right into the arms of the guy I loved.

I don't know when I started twirling with giddiness. But I do know the moment I stopped . . .

And saw Dex standing in the open doorway, staring right at me.

I walked back into the room as he stumbled closer.

He was drunk.

“Dex . . . ,” I started, wondering how to explain. But his look stopped me in my tracks.

I don't know if it was the alcohol or the fact he'd seen me smiling that did it. I don't know if he'd come back with this particular plan or a different one altogether. All I know is that as soon as he took that last stumbling step toward me, he lost it.

The first punch to my face sent me straight to my hands and knees.

I screamed. But I was quickly silenced by a sharp kick to my stomach that catapulted me onto my back like I was no more than a rag doll. He dropped on top of me, straddling me as he hit me again.

I was defenseless under his weight. I couldn't focus. Couldn't work out what to do. I looked into his eyes between hits. This was not the Dex I knew. He was drunk and completely out of control.

After the fourth heavy hit to my face, an unwavering certainty came over me: Dex was not going to stop. My feeble attempts to cry for help were smothered by his fists.

My head swung to the side with the impact of a closed-fist punch that made it feel like it might explode. Blood poured into my eyes from a cut on my forehead. I spotted the digital clock on the bedside table.

Oh, please, please, please.

11:59 p.m.

Dex's hand went back again, relentless in his intentions. I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact, and . . . shifted.

From nightmare to dream. I was in his arms, his lips on mine. But my nightmare was still with me and I flinched, gasping, as my body anticipated the final blow from Dex's fist.

Ethan scrambled to his feet as I fought to catch my breath. He looked at the clock and grimaced.

I tried to calm myself down.
I'm okay
.
I'm back
.
With Ethan
. I closed my eyes for a moment. I was safe.

But when I opened them, Ethan was backing up toward the door, the sadness in his eyes making my heart twist. His brow furrowed and he bit down on his beautiful lower lip before looking away. “I'll leave. I . . .” He hung his head. “I'll leave you alone.”

My eyes filled with tears. He thought I'd flinched from him. Thought that it meant . . .

“Ethan,” I breathed, barely able to find the oxygen. “Please don't go.”

He looked at me again. He must have seen my changed expression because he took a few tentative steps toward me. “Sabine, you're shaking . . . more than usual. Are you . . . ? Is everything . . . ? Did . . . ? Jesus, Sabine, just tell me!”

I took a deep breath. It was an impossible situation. The world I'd thought had crumbled was now resuscitating me—just as the world in which I'd put all my hopes and dreams for a future was tearing me apart. But right then, looking into Ethan's eyes, there were more important things to say.

“I love you too. And not just because you believe me.”

In two strides he was back, sitting on my narrow bed, pulling me to him as if our lives depended on it. When he leaned back, his eyes searching mine, I could see what still haunted him.

“Sabine . . . ?”

I cupped his face with my hand. “No, Ethan. I didn't sleep with Dex. I couldn't. How
could
I?” And then he was kissing me while somewhere else Dex was killing me. But right in that moment, heaven was mine.

Would this be how it worked?

Would I die in Wellesley, after all of this?

Suddenly, despite all my theories, all the tests, I wasn't so confident that if I did die in Wellesley, my life—the life I'd been so willing to throw away—would go on in Roxbury.

A strange thing.

Ethan's hand stroked my face. “I love you,” he murmured.

Before I knew what I was doing I had taken Ethan's keys from his pocket and was at the door, locking it silently. When I turned back to him and saw him staring at me, intense love in his eyes, I was sure there was nothing I wanted more than to be with him. I walked toward him, taking off my top as I did. Right now, there was nothing to stop us.

“Sabine—” he started, but I shook my head, joining him on the bed, laying a light kiss at the base of his neck.

“Don't say no, Ethan.”

“I'm not really at my best tonight,” he said, sounding nervous and breathless at the same time.

“Don't say no,” I repeated. “Not unless you really want to.”

He squirmed even as his arms went back around me. “There are things I need to tell you. I have no right to do this, no right to have you. When I . . . you might not want to.”

I kissed him again. “Then don't tell me. Not now. Tell me later. Right now, I love you and you love me, and I don't know how, but I
know
this is right. I want it to be you, Ethan. I want my first time to be with you.”

He ran his hands through my hair and pulled me close.

“A first and a last then,” he mumbled, turning his face toward mine and returning my kisses.

He was everything I'd wanted him to be and so much more. Loving, gentle, considerate. He made the tiny bed seem like a
good thing, and he slowed down when needed, caressing me, talking sweetly to me, and guiding gently. He seemed to savor every moment as if he were imprinting it on his mind, taking his time to search out every curve and freckle on my body, tracing my face over and over with his fingertips. He even found the birthmark behind the back of my knee. And after he explored me, he watched, fascinated, as I used my lips and my good hand to explore him in return.

When I found the bruises on his lower belly and what looked like needle marks in his arm, I started to question him, but he stopped me with the kinds of kisses that blew my mind.

Eventually—when there was no part of either one of us that had gone untouched, no place he hadn't made me tingle and sear and want for a lifetime of the same—he wrapped me in his arms.

“I was sure I'd never have this,” he said softly, stroking my hair.

“What?”

“Love.”

I half-laughed. “Do not even try to tell me you haven't done that before.”

He chuckled too. “Not like that. Not with the love part.”

I looked up at him. He was still out of breath. “Are you okay? You look . . .”

He raised his eyebrows. “Exhausted?”

I smiled, rather happy with myself. “Well, at least no one will ever accuse us of not being thorough.” I didn't expand on it, tell him that a big part of it had been from my own desperation—to hang on to this for as long as I could before going back to face what I must. I couldn't bear to ruin the moment yet.

Ethan decided to get serious anyway. “I meant what I said, Sabine. You need to choose life, not death. You can't strip away half of what you are and expect to be okay.”

I sighed, still not ready for this conversation. “It's just so hard. I'm two completely different people. I hate it.”

“I get why you've had to do that in the past, but you're eighteen now. You've finished school—”

“Twice,” I cut him off.

He grinned. “Twice. I know that if you put your mind to it, you can find a way to be you—the
same
you—in both worlds. You won't be like everyone else, but who has the same life as anyone else anyway?” He went back to stroking my hair and I relished every touch. “If you weren't here, I wouldn't have ever found you. You never know what could be just around the corner in either one of your lives.”

Unfortunately I had a terrible feeling I knew what was around the corner in my Wellesley life. But as I lay in Ethan's arms, everything in that world seemed to matter so much less. “I like where I am right now,” I said, my hand tracing the contours of his arms. He looked down and I saw how
dark the circles beneath his eyes were. “When was the last time you slept?”

He shrugged off the question, refocusing on me. “This choice has to be about you, Sabine. It's not fair to make it about me and I don't want you to. I want you to make it for you. You need to think about that before you make any final decisions. Will you promise me that?”

I wasn't entirely sure the decision belonged to me anymore. Even so, I nodded. “Promise.”

“And promise me that you won't do anything rash. Today, for example.”

I nodded again and he held me close, sighing with relief. I was on the verge of telling him about Dex, about everything that had happened in my other world, but when I looked up he was already asleep. He looked so tired. I brushed my fingers lightly down his face. There was a cool sweat on his neck and his breathing seemed oddly shallow.

I watched him for as long as I could—strangely determined to guard over him—until finally I couldn't keep my eyes open. Before I fell asleep I swore to myself that by the time I shifted tonight I'd know what Ethan was hiding from me.

When I woke up he wasn't there. I was disappointed, but I also wasn't surprised. We
were
in a hospital; it wouldn't
exactly be acceptable for him to be found waking up in a patient's bed. The thought actually made me laugh out loud—or maybe it was just the afterglow from having been with Ethan. Either way I brushed aside the feeling of unease and resolved to get through my day until I could see him that night. Then I'd tell him about Dex and we'd work out what to do, together.

My parents chose that day to visit—which didn't go too badly. Mom had clearly had a lot of time to think about everything, and after our awkward greeting and obligatory small talk she said, “Your dad and I were thinking that, well, if it's okay with you, we would like to consider some family counseling.”

I nodded, appreciating her efforts. But more counseling was the last thing I wanted.

“Dr. Levi told us you've been showing very promising signs. I can tell he's confident things will work out soon,” Dad proudly informed me. Mom and Dad had clearly taken this one bit of good news and run with it. As far as they were concerned, recovery was imminent. I let them believe it, even though I had started to formulate my own opinion of Levi's use of the word “soon.” I was glad my appointment with him that morning had been canceled because of some emergency.