16. Ian

16

Ian

Now

G eorgia and I make our way down to the willow tree in silence. She nearly gave me a heart attack when I turned and saw her watching Auden and me. She didn't say anything, but the smile she gave me said enough as she held her hand out for mine.

Auden may not be mine, but she's wrapped herself right next to her mother in that small, unbroken chamber of my heart I reserve for them.

I know I need to come clean and be honest about my true feelings. I've already told Georgia that I fucked up by leaving her all those years ago; she knows that much at least. But she doesn't know that I'd give up just about anything to have her and Auden both in my life.

A week isn't long enough with either of them, and each strike of the clock leaves me feeling hopeless and restless.

Hopeless because I know there's no world where Georgia would opt to leave her life and choose to stay here.

Restless because I know there's no world where I watch her leave without me again, especially now.

"Can you read another journal entry or two?" Georgia asks once we get settled underneath the tree on the quilt I carried out for us.

The willow tree fronds sway in the breeze around us as the lake makes small waves that crash against the dock in the distance. The frogs and grasshoppers sing their midnight song around us.

I pop open the wine cork and pour us both a cup, using coffee mugs instead of wine glasses so they stay upright on the uneven earth underneath us. Handing her a mug, I take the diary from her.

"Here. I'll turn my phone flashlight on," Georgia says, and the small clearing under the tree lights up as she places her phone face-side up. "Can you read the words, or should we turn yours on, too?"

I open the diary, squinting slightly as the words come into focus in the muted light. "I can read it," I reassure her.

We both take a long swig of our wine, and she leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder as I begin to read her mother's words once more.

Dear Georgia,

Today was a better day. It's the first time in a long while I didn't feel like I was failing you as a mother for being so lost in my grief. I know you can tell when I'm sad, and I wish I knew the magic fix to take all the pain away and just be there for you. Yesterday, I yelled at you for trying to come into my study. I regretted it as soon as your beautiful face fell and you left without a word after placing something on my desk. When I saw the photo you drew for me, the one with the three of us having a picnic under the willow tree, I knew I was the worst mother ever. Your father held me all night as I cried myself to sleep, silently vowing to do better for you.

For both of you.

So today, your father and I took you and the twins to the fair in town. I'll never forget the way your face lit up when you saw the colorful lights, the tactfully decorated booths with cotton candy of every flavor, and all the rides you'd only seen in movies until today. The fair only comes to town every couple of years, and before now, you and the twins were too little for all of the rides. This year, though, you got to go on all but three of them. I promise to take you back the next time it's in town so we can conquer those last three pesky rides with their height restrictions. Ian, the tall sweetheart that he is, chose to only go on rides that you and Irene could ride too. I'd be lying if I didn't have this secret wish for a much, much older version of you two getting married and having your own babies to take to the fair one day. Irene being the perfect maid of honor and best auntie to your children, of course.

You make him work for that future, my littlest love, if it's meant to be.

I asked you what your favorite part of the fair was, and you told me the Ferris wheel. That was my favorite part, too. You said that you loved that we went together, holding hands the entire ride up and down. When we stopped at the highest peak of the ride, your whole face lit up with wonder and awe as we gazed into the stars. I hope you never lose that. The ability to love everything the way it was meant to be by our creator. The stars, the trees, the flowers.

You find such beauty in the world, Georgie girl. Never lose that. Always choose love, happiness, forgiveness. Life is too short to be stuck living in the ugliness of it all.

Choose love, always.

And remember that I love you, most of all.

Love always,

Mom

I place the book on my lap, leaving it open to where I stopped reading. "Do you want me to keep reading?"

Georgia stirs, pulling her head off of my shoulder, sniffling quietly next to me. "I just can't wrap my head around any of it, Ian." Her shoulders slump as she starts to cry silently beside me. "How could that be the same woman who tried to kill me?" She looks up at me, her gray-blue eyes filled to the brim with tears.

I place my hand gently against her cheek, wiping away the few tears that have managed to escape. "Your mom loved you, Georgia. So much. We may never know why she did what she did, but I do know that she loved you."

She leans into me, and I wrap my arms around her as she cries into my chest, stroking her back in gentle motions, wishing more than anything that I had the answers to all the questions that haunt her.

"My dad doesn't think she did it," Georgia mumbles into my chest.

"What do you mean?"

She pulls out of my arms, bringing both her hands to her face and angrily wiping away her tears. "He doesn't think she tried to kill me."

I open my mouth in surprise, then close it again. It would change everything for Georgia, and Lincoln, if there was some type of proof that Caroline wasn't responsible for her own demise and destruction of her own family.

"Who would have done it then?" I ask her.

She lets out a defeated laugh. "I have no fucking idea. Up until today, I never gave it much thought. Her death was a cut-and-dry suicide case. Poisoned by her own hand, with the cup that should have been mine. I never gave her the benefit of the doubt. I just believed what everyone told me. Until today, I never thought twice about it being a murder."

"Murder?"

She shrugs. "Yeah, if someone else tried to poison me, it'd be a murder, right? Or someone wanted my mother dead. Either way, murder. Or she was stuck in the throes of depression and didn't realize what she was doing? I don't know, Ian. My stomach is twisted up in knots, and I don't know what to believe or who to trust anymore. Now Auden is talking about ghosts and bad things. I shouldn't have come back."

I look up into the swaying fronds of the willow tree. Before we came out here, I had every intention of telling Georgia how I felt about her, about us, about Auden.

But she has so much on her plate already. I can't add my shit to that.

I sigh, grabbing my cup of wine and finishing it in three gulps before picking the diary back up. "Let's keep reading then and see if this diary has any answers. Shall we?"

Georgia nods as she continues to wipe at her tears. I open my arm for her, and she leans on me with no hesitation. Just like when we were kids, huddled together. Too young to understand why we lost Irene and Caroline the tragic and horrific way we did.

Dear Georgie girl,

Last night you had one of your sleepwalking spells again. Lydia woke me up in the dead of night screaming like a banshee from across the way. When your father and I looked out the window, you were standing at the end of the dock wearing your baby-blue nightgown and holding your stuffed bear, staring into the lake. Or at least, I assumed you were. The shadows of the night made it hard to see. We both went running down the stairs, racing to get to you before you took that last step into the dark waters below. By the time we made it to you, Lydia was already there, tugging you away from the ledge, but you wouldn't budge. It was like you were superglued to the spot. A forklift wouldn't have been able to move you. I remember your father reminding us not to touch you. You aren't supposed to touch a person who is stuck in a dream like you were. But how could I not reach for you? Protect you? You're my entire universe. Of course I had to get you away from the gaping monster that the lake looked like. But even I couldn't coax you into moving. You looked right through me. It wasn't until Ian came running out of his house, screaming that he could help you. Your father and I stood back next to Lydia and watched Ian whisper something into your ear, and like magic, you returned to us again. Your eyes landed on mine, huge and afraid, and you ran right into the comfort of my arms, sobbing. Five years old and you experienced so much fear in your tiny body. If I could hold you close to me forever and keep you safe from the monsters and dangers of the world, I would, my sweet girl. I would hold you and never let you go. Ian held one of your hands all the way back to the house while I clung tightly to the other. Your protectors, keeping you safe from the monsters of the world. If only I knew how to keep you safe from your own self and the scary things that haunt you in your dreams, driving you to put yourself in dangerous and terrifying predicaments. Until I learn, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe from your nightmares. I love you, my Georgie girl. To the moon and back.

Love always,

Mom

I feel Georgia stiffen beside me. Her head lies on my shoulder as I close the diary and place it on the quilt beside me.

"What's wrong, G?" I ask, tugging on her chin to get a good look at her in the muted light that surrounds us. She has tears in her eyes but a smile on her lips.

"Nothing," she says, and I quirk an eyebrow at her. She sighs, pulling herself out of the comfort of my arms. "It's just, even as kids you were always saving me from myself. I don't remember having those sleepwalking spells, but my father said something about them recently, and obviously, they happened more frequently than I thought. I just don't remember them. I only remember the nightmares I got after my mother died," she says with another shrug. "And you were always there to save me from those, too. You're always saving me from the things that go bump in the night, Ian." She smiles a shy smile at me, her gray-blue eyes shining brightly as we gaze at each other in the small space of the world we've carved out for ourselves.

I run my hands through my hair, gnawing on my lip the way I do when I'm nervous and deep in thought. My body is begging me to kiss her again, to taste her lips and feel every inch of her. My brain, though, my brain can't quite catch up with that. Especially when I'm stuck with this massive lie of omission weighing heavily on my chest.

"You say you don't remember the sleepwalking and nightmares?" I ask, avoiding eye contact with her as I drum my fingers across the mug as I lift it to my lips. "At all?"

Georgia shakes her head. "I don't. I only remember her ghost. That's an image I don't think I'll ever be able to burn out of my head."

"Do you see her now? Now that you're back at the manor, I mean? Have you seen her?"

The look of fear in her eyes permeates my soul as she nods.

Yes.

Georgia lifts her drink to her lips, letting the rim of the mug rest against her bottom lip as she stares at the fronds surrounding us. "I've seen her every day since I've been back. Several times. I think I'm losing my mind," she admits softly before finally draining her cup.

It's my fault. She only comes back to haunt you when I'm around.

But I can't admit that. The cowardly person I am would rather play her knight in shining armor than be the one that causes her all this misery.

I convinced Georgia that going into her mother's office was a good idea, that it would make her feel closer to her, even after death. Just like sneaking into Irene's untouched bedroom had always brought me some sort of solace. Being around her stuff made it feel like she was still there with me after she died.

The first time Georgia saw her was the same day I snuck into her mother's office with her. Georgia left screaming, and her mother has tortured her from that day on. Coming during the night and leaving Georgia in hysterics and tears as I held her through the aftermath, night after night.

I thought she had finally released her grip on Georgia the day she finally escaped this graveyard when she left for college all those years ago. The nightmares stopped then.

Until I was selfish and thought I could finally be with Georgia, the way we always promised each other. When I followed her to California six years ago, not knowing that I was dragging her mother's ghost right along with me.

How do I tell the woman I love that I'm the reason she's being haunted by her dead mother's ghost?