The Violet Hour (The Violet Hour Series) (22 page)

Andrea Wells – The Violet Hour

Epilogue

“The number you have called has been disconnected,” an unfamiliar voice said.

I stared down at my phone overwhelmed with confusion while the woman repeated the same recording over and over again.  I’d been calling for two months, but this was the first time I wasn’t able to leave a message.  I’d thought for sure of all days, this would be the one day he’d answer.  All those calls of his I’d ignored, and now I was on the other side.  Without thinking, I hung up on the woman and scrolled through my phone list to try a different tactic.

“Hello?” she said, as if asking a question.

“Lindsey?” I asked, though I recognized her voice.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s Logan, Merry Christmas,” I offered.

“Merry Christmas,” she replied suspiciously as if she knew it wasn’t the reason I was calling.

“Hey, do you have Brody’s new number?  I’ve been trying to get a hold of him to thank him for my birthday party for over two months.  I’ve left messages, but now it says his number has been disconnected.”

Lindsey didn’t say anything.  I thought about saying her name into the phone to see if she was still there, but figured I’d know she hung up when the line finally dropped.

“I haven’t talked to Brody since your birthday party,” she proclaimed flatly.

“What?”

“I haven’t talked to him.”

“Why?” I pressed.

“Because of you,” she hissed.

“What do you mean,
because of me
?” I asked, defensively.

“That night, when you took off running out of the club, Brody ran after you.  So, I chased Brody while he chased you.  I grabbed him at the door before he made it outside,” she said, pausing as if what she was about to say might be painful.  “I asked him what he was doing and he said going after you.  When I asked him what for, he said because he still loved you.”

I didn’t say anything. 

“I told him he had to choose.  And he chose you.”

Suddenly, Jesse barged through my bedroom door wearing a red one-piece adult size sleeper and Santa hat.  My mouth fell open and I absent mindedly hung up the phone without bothering to say ‘goodbye.’

“Come on, Logan, get up!  We’re all waiting on you downstairs and you’re still in bed talking on the phone.”

“Jesse!” I screamed as he yanked the blankets off of me, exposing my skin to drafty cool air.  I had fallen asleep in just my bra and underwear while reading for American Lit.  Smashed underneath me, my copy of
The Awakening
. 

“Hey, wear some clothes to bed, why don’t ya,” he wailed over my screeching before he disappeared into the hallway. 

I grabbed a large, long-sleeved button-up shirt from my nightstand and rolled out of bed.  When I turned around, Luke was standing quietly at my door. 

“You look cute,” he said, making his way toward me.

“Good morning,” I offered.  He wrapped his arms around me and tossed me playfully back into bed.

“Do you think anyone would notice if we never made it downstairs to open gifts?” he asked.

The question stole my breath away.

“Never mind,” he said and pushed himself off me.  “You’re probably right.  I’ll wait for you downstairs,” he finished, making his way toward the door.

I leapt out of bed and grabbed his hand before he opened my bedroom door again.

“Don’t go,” I whispered.

“I never plan on it,” he whispered back with a subtle undertone that made his voice sound rich with happiness. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I pressed.

“It means I never plan on leaving you.”

“I can live with that.”

“Good,” he grinned, pressing his body against mine before our lips met.

“Don’t make me come back up there,” Jesse yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

“Isn’t he over the whole ‘get up early to open presents on Christmas morning phase’ yet?  I mean he’s had plenty of them by now,” I suggested.

“What can I say, the Callahan boys love Christmas,” he replied.

“You too?”

“Why do you think I’m up here?”

“Oh, I see how it is,” I said as I shoved Luke away and raced toward my bathroom door. 

Luke grabbed my hand and spun me back around into him. 

“You’re like Christmas morning to me every day of the year,” he whispered.  Chills ran down my neck.

“Thank you.”

Luke gave me one more kiss before he headed out the door.  I watched as he walked back downstairs before I turned to get dressed. 

The first thing I did was down some pills to relieve the pain.  My body ached on a pretty much constant basis.  At first, I thought it was because of the attack, but the further I got from that terrible night the more I was convinced it was because my body was changing.  I checked myself over in the mirror every morning, searching for physical signs, though I wasn’t sure what I was really looking for. 

I stood in front of the mirror and nothing drastic had changed during the night before I got dressed and walked downstairs.  By the time I arrived, Jesse was already outside playing with some new toy.  Jack and Rachel were cozied up next to the fire while my dad and Kate were enjoying coffee on the front porch in their new sweaters, a gift from the boys.  Surprisingly, I stepped outside to join them.  Normally, I would’ve put on every layer of clothing I owned on a morning like this, but the most obvious change I’d endured over the past three months was a rise in my normal body temperature.  My dad and Kate could sit outside all day without noticing the cold. 

“Good morning,” I said as I opened the door.

“Merry Christmas,” they replied in unison. 

“You missed opening gifts.  Jesse couldn’t wait any longer,” Kate said.

“It’s alright; I still need to shower anyhow.  We can resume after lunch maybe,” I joked.

“Where’s Luke?” my dad asked. 

“I have no idea.  I haven’t seen him since he tried to get me to rush downstairs after Jesse failed in his attempt.”

Neither of them said anything immediately, which made me curious.

“Why?”

“No reason…just wondering,” my dad said, unconvincingly.  Kate smiled.

Skeptical, I went back inside.  Jack and Rachel had disappeared from the family room, so I slipped inside to analyze the presents still left under the tree.  As I kneeled down to peek at a name tag, a large box was placed before my face.

“Merry Christmas, love,” Luke said as he held the gift.  A big white box wrapped perfectly with a large white bow in the center.  I had no idea what could possibly be inside.

“You didn’t have to…”

“Just open it, Logan,” he said, handing it to me.

I carefully untied the ribbon and slipped it off the sides, lifting the lid and leaving the bottom on my lap.  I peeled back the layers of tissue and uncovered a brand new pair of white ice skates.

“You shouldn’t have,” I said under my breath.

“But, I did,” he whispered.

An hour later, Luke and I were gliding across the clear glass pond in my father’s backyard.  I hadn’t given Luke his present yet because it felt insignificant in comparison to the ice skates.  However, I brought it outside with me just in case I decided it was worthy and hid it under my jacket on the bench.

“So, what’s under the jacket?” Luke asked knowingly.

“Of course you would ask.”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?  If you did, that concerns me,” he said playfully.

“No Luke, I haven’t forgotten about your perceptive senses.”

He skated to the bench and sat down patiently next to my jacket.  I knew I didn’t have a choice in the matter, so I skated over and reached for the gift. 

“Merry Christmas, Luke,” I said, handing him the small package.

He opened up the leather-bound journal I had made for him with his initials pressed into the corner.  He seemed genuinely pleased, though I didn’t believe for a second he was surprised. 

We both stood up and he shoved me across the ice, sending me drifting all the way to the opposite end of the pond.  When I finally stopped, my brown hair fell around my face.  Suddenly, anxiety surged though me.  Quickly, I turned around to see Luke sprawled out on the ice.  He lay motionless.  I raced quickly toward him, yelling his name in panic. 

I reached him and slipped on the ice, falling to my knees.  His eyes opened and he looked up at me with a smile.  I reached down playfully shoving him and he gently pulled me down beside him onto the ice.  With his arms wrapped tightly around my waist, he pulled me onto my back, resting my head on his shoulder.  Snowflakes fell like white feathers around us.  As we lay in silence, I wondered if Luke had any idea that I knew what happened next. 

He pulled the iconic teal and white box from his pocket and held it in the air.  I held my breath, reached my hand up and took the box, leaning over onto my side.  Luke rolled onto his side to watch me open the gift.  Inside, laid a gold necklace.  He picked it up and showed me a heart-shaped tag, “
Please Return to Tiffany & Co
.” Stunning me into silence as he offered to put it on; the slight drag of his fingers against my neck sending electricity through my veins.  Once attached, he held the tag out in front of me so I could see the tiny engraving on one of the other charms.

“The past was nothing to her; offered no lesson which she was willing to heed.

The future was a mystery which she never attempted to penetrate.

The present alone was significant.”

- The Awakening

Andrea Wells – The Violet Hour

Acknowledgments

Thank you, first and foremost, to my husband, Travis, – for supporting my all-night writing benders, carrying on casual conversations about werewolves, allowing me to stay home full-time while I feverishly continue to write (and pop out a couple of babies) and holding my hand while I pursue a lifelong dream to become a published author.  You are my soulmate.  I love you.

Thank you to my dearest friend, Christina Fifer.  There aren’t enough words to describe how indebted I am to you, but I’ll start by saying this – I platonically love you!  You have been there with me from the very first page – without hesitation.  I would honestly trade having this series published to go back to all those random bookstores and coffee shops, scattered about the city, to sip on expensive coffee and talk about books with you.  You are my literary soulmate.   

To my two beautiful children, Ty and Katie – though you showed up after I started this journey, which sent my writing career on a slight detour, I wouldn’t change a single step.  You’re both the very reason I picked the pages back up again.  As a mother, you fill my heart and soul.

Very special thanks and recognition to pixelmischiefdesigns.com – you are a true artist who was able to capture the emotions of both novel and an author and combine them into a breathtaking graphic design.  You have reconnected me with my own vision and your professional encouragement has dared me to reach higher.

And finally, to all my other family and friends – though very, very few of you knew I’ve been busy writing three novels over the past six years, you were still an inspiration in some way to me.  And for that, I am thankful.