Grey Eyes: Book One of the Forever Trilogy

Chapter Twenty One

“Is it worth it to have forever with me?

What did he mean?  It had to have something to do with whatever it was he didn’t want me to know.  He’d already explained what he meant when he’d said that our fairy tale ended badly when he told me about what happened with my aunt.  I could only guess that in the memory he was referring to the “bad thing” that caused my aunt to be so desperate in the first place.  But if it affected all the previous versions of me, shouldn’t I be worried too?  Didn’t he say that her circumstances were what made her react so terribly?  Well, she and I have the same circumstances—the same face for goodness sakes.  Did my not remembering make me immune to it somehow?  Was it worth it?

“This is my choice, Tristan.  And I’ve chosen you.  I’ll always choose you.”

Choose him over death?  Of course, I would.  If this was how I felt back then, I knew that I would never want to leave him.  Even if that was what he wanted.  But was it that simple?  Did he just feel like I was choosing him over heaven? That couldn’t be it.  He’d told me that outright.  There had to be something more.  Then I remembered the first part of my reply to him.

 “There’s nothing I wouldn’t deal with to feel like this, to have these moments.”

Nothing I wouldn’t deal with?  My thoughts turned to London and Aiden and that she was leaving to be with him.  Probably never to return.  She was leaving everyone and everything for him.  That had to be a lot to deal with.  It was necessary, that I knew.  I was almost certain that no one here would understand, not with the atrocities the vampires had caused over the years.  At least she was waiting until she graduated.  That might be easier for her family to accept than if she’d just disappeared into the night.  Would I have the same patience?  If Tristan asked, would I leave with him?  Could I leave with him?  In every story he had shared with me we’d run off together, leaving my family behind.  I doubted that my mother would be any more understanding when she recovered, even if she had been a whisper away from being one herself.  I couldn’t have both of them in my life.  It was that simple.  Eventually, I would have to choose.  I wondered if my being separated from my family was the “thing” that I would have to endure to be with Tristan.  It made sense.  Except, how would not having my memories make that any better? 

Darren’s bright red BMW pulled up in front of me, interrupting my thoughts.  I had been concentrating on last night to avoid thinking about what this ride to school would be like.  Carlos, shot me his knowing little grin from the backseat and dropped his eyes back into his magazine. Darren, on the other hand, was beaming at me, smiling that easy smile of his as he stepped out of the car.  The car he was driving because he had sold his truck… for me.

“Things must be really good with your mom if you’re headed back to school already.”

I smiled despite myself.  “Yeah, Dr. Roberts says that there’s not much to do now but wait.  He’s certain that she’ll make a full recovery.”

Darren winked. “It’s a miracle.”

He swung his arm around me and I wormed my way out of it.  He looked confused.  “What’s wrong?”

Darren had a right to know that I had feelings for someone else, but I wasn’t sure how to tell him yet.  I sucked at giving bad news. “I… I fell.  I hurt my shoulder. It’s still a little sore.”

“Oh, sucks.”

Guilt swirled inside of me. 

The car was quiet as we passed the sign welcoming us to the other side of Brighton.  I did my best to keep my thoughts away from Tristan.  It just felt wrong for me to fantasize about his next visit when I was sitting in Darren’s car.  Poor Darren had attempted to initiate a conversation several times, but had given up at this point.  I honestly didn’t know what to say.  The need to explain myself remained on the tip of my tongue but I could never make myself say the words—or any other words for that matter.  When I stole a glance in his direction, I could see him trying to make sense of my weirdness.  I felt awful.