DEAD IN BED By Bailey Simms: The Complete Second Book

PART 10, SECTION 17

Did I love Shawn? I thought about this. But not for very long. I knew the answer, and I was a little surprised at how quickly it came.

"No," I said. "I don't love him."

"What about last night?"

I sighed. "I've just . . . I've been really alone. I've been really lonely, to be honest. And he was there, and we have a long shared history. Plus this stupid disease. It really messes with your head, you know? But, still, that's no excuse. I made a mistake. I shouldn't have let it happen."

Only now, talking with Lindsay, did I understand fully how much Shawn's pheromones must have affected me last night. Shawn had changed so much, almost entirely for the better. And we did have a long history together. But I still didn't love him. I knew that now. I was truly being honest with Lindsay about that.

Lindsay thought about my response until the sun finally disappeared. Then she suddenly turned to me.

"I don't know what to say, so I'm just going to give you a hug right now, because I'm a goober. Okay? I hope you don't mind."

I smiled, surprised, and hugged her.

"You're a really good person, Ashley," she said.

"So are you," I said. "Seriously."

I'd been dreading facing Lindsay, but now, somehow, against all the odds, I felt only the warmth of a potential friendship.

I stood and helped her up. We started back toward the dwellings together.

Lindsay laughed with a quiet desperation, sighed, and took my arm. "I don't even know who's betraying who anymore," she said. "I figure, here we are at the end of the world and everyone's doing what they can to get by. Everybody's hurting. Everybody's desperate. Might as well go easy on each other. We're all we've got."

I thought about this. And as I walked with Lindsay back down toward the dwellings, I realized something. I remembered how I'd felt that night on the trail when Shawn had appeared—then, just an unknown figure in the moonlight—leading a band of refugees. I'd felt a rush of physical desire, yes, but I'd felt something else, too. Something much more. And the reason I'd felt that something was that I'd believed, then, that the person hailing us on the trail had been Ian. I'd wanted it to be Ian so badly that I'd let myself believe that it was. If I'd known it was Shawn, I wouldn't have felt the same overwhelming yearning.

Why? Because I was in love with Ian. The answer was as simple as that. I couldn't help it. And I had to accept that fact. It wasn't ever going to change. I'd probably always been in love with Ian, even since junior high. And that was okay; I didn't have to hate myself for it.

But I also knew that I was probably never going to see Ian again. Even if I did, somehow, I was pretty sure that he would always hate me—justifiably—for endangering his family. And because he was so loyal to his family, he would always be my sister's husband.

Which meant I also had to accept that whatever life I had left, it just wasn't going to be one in which I ever found love. I was going to be alone. And that's just how it was. 

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