Chapter 19
Julian Carter sat off to the side, seemingly uninterested, while Rue Monroe chatted casually about her travel plans. But when she mentioned the exact flight time, he lowered his eyes to his phone, tapping out a message to his assistant with a sharp efficiency:
Clear my schedule for next week. Book me a 9 AM flight to North Bay tomorrow.
The reply came quickly: Mr. Carter, you have an international merger meeting and a board session scheduled.
He didn’t hesitate. Delay or cancel. Make up whatever excuse sounds legit.
The assistant responded again: Would you prefer a private jet? Easier to work en route.
No need.
After taking care of it, Julian looked back up, eyes fixed on Rue. She was seated beside her brother, Logan Monroe, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear—the exact way Isla used to do it.
It twisted something inside him. That same damn pang.
Rue slid the lunch container across Logan’s desk. As she caught Julian’s stare out of the corner of her eye, her fingers curled slightly around the thermos.
Logan spooned up some soup and, without looking up, quipped loudly, “You keep staring at my sister like that and she’s gonna start smoking at the cheeks.”
Julian blinked once, unreadable, then stood and walked toward the door.
As he passed Rue, his voice dropped just above a whisper. “The wind’s rough in North Bay. Bring a jacket.”
Rue paused, barely, then continued setting out the meal like she hadn’t heard a word.
———
Later that afternoon, Rue followed Silas to the hospital for the scan he’d scheduled.
After reviewing the results, Silas finally let out a breath of relief. “CT scan looks normal.”
He handed her the paper, his fingertips brushing the edge, lingering. “The dreams and flashes… could be your subconscious reconstructing fragmented memory.”
Rue traced the border of the report slowly. “What if they’re someone else’s memories?”
Silas looked at her, intrigued. “What do you mean?”
She gave him a half-smile. “Like, what if I was in a coma, dreaming this huge, whole-ass life? But now that I’m awake, it’s all foggy.”
He frowned, thoughtfully. “I mean… people in deep comas do dream, but usually they don’t get migraines trying to remember.”
Rue didn’t respond right away, eyes distant.
Silas assumed she was worried. “Don’t stress about it, okay? We’ll figure this out.”
She smiled, light and carefree. “I’m not stressing. I was just wondering where we should go first once we get to North Bay.”
Just then, her phone lit up. It was Bianca.
“Rue, we’re hitting the bar tonight to go over the trip plan—come!”
She agreed and left the hospital with Silas.
———
At the bar, low amber lights cast soft shadows, and the place buzzed with the Friday night crowd.
Bianca nudged Rue toward the mic, and with a shrug, Rue took the stage.
The second she opened her mouth, the bar hushed. Heads turned. Conversations died.
Bianca leaned into Silas, elbowing him lightly. “Your eyeballs are about to glue themselves to her. You like her, don’t you?”
Silas didn’t even look away. He downed a half-glass of ice water like it was whiskey and muttered, “Yeah.”
“Holy shit.” Bianca’s drink sloshed over her hand. “Did not expect that. You? Mr. Emotionally Constipated?”
By the time Rue made her way back to the booth, Silas was standing, holding out a bouquet of white roses.
“That was… amazing.”
She took the flowers, glancing suspiciously at Bianca’s exaggerated blinking.
“Okay, what’s going on with you?”
“My brother just sprouted feelings!” Bianca threw an arm around her shoulder. “He said he wants to bring his future girlfriend home to meet the family.”
Rue laughed, eyes sliding to Silas. “Is that so? Well, if you ever land her, bring her around. We’ll judge her properly.”
Silas’s ears were bright red, but his eyes stayed locked on her. “She doesn’t know I like her yet. I’m just… waiting for her to be ready.”
