Dying To Remember. Sara K. Parker
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depressed, and she certainly didn’t need more medicine.
She needed the truth. And she needed help.
Fear crawled along the back of her neck as she peered out the back window. Still no silver sedan. She was pretty certain it was a Toyota Camry, but the car had never been close enough for her to make out the driver. Ella faced forward again, watching as Baltimore’s Inner Harbor came into view, city lights glimmering against dark waters.
After-work traffic and icing roads didn’t seem to faze the taxi driver as he weaved through the city. Ella wanted to tell him to slow down. Maybe just turn around all together. It was after six on a Friday evening, after all. Roman had probably left the office by now.
She half hoped he had.
More than six years had passed since they’d parted ways. Six years since his sister’s murder had devastated them both and torn their relationship apart. She wondered if time had been kind to him. If he’d learned to smile again. To laugh.
If he’d gotten married, had kids.
She’d wondered for a long time, but it had been years since she’d tried to find out.
The car pulled over and slowed to a stop. She should have called, set up an appointment.
No turning back now.
Ella’s gaze traveled across the sidewalk and up the grand entrance where the Shield Protection logo was boldly printed above a set of mammoth mahogany doors.
A knot of regret tightened in her stomach. Roman and his dad had purchased the historic building together, Roman’s brothers joining in on the renovation in memory of their sister. Roman had sent Ella a personal invitation to the grand opening four years ago, which she had initially declined. She had started a new life for herself in Colorado, and she knew that seeing Roman again would threaten the progress she had made toward putting the past behind her.
Only, at the last minute, she’d hopped on a plane, telling herself she owed the DeHart family her support—and convincing herself that the trip would bring closure. She had never been so wrong in her life. No sooner had she stepped out of her rental car that afternoon than she’d spotted Roman hand in hand with a striking redhead. Maybe Ella shouldn’t have been surprised or hurt that he had moved on, but she simply hadn’t been able to face him, so she’d left the event before anyone had even realized she was there.
“You all set?” the driver asked, watching her in the rearview mirror.
“Yes, could you wait here?” she asked as she pushed the door open. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be...”
He shrugged. “Meter’s running.”
She didn’t care. It was freezing outside—unseasonably so for Maryland in November—and she didn’t relish the idea of standing at the curb trying to flag down another taxi when she was ready to head back to her childhood home in Annapolis. Especially when the stranger in the silver car could reappear at any moment.
She opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk, taking a quick look up and down the street. She still didn’t see any sign of that car. Pushing aside self-doubt, she lowered her head against the bitter wind and carefully navigated the salted but still ice-slick steps of Shield.
She grabbed hold of the wrought-iron railing with a gloved hand. Six steps up and she was standing at the doors reading the posted sign that they closed at 5:30 p.m. Disappointment warred with relief. The silver car was gone for now and at least she could truthfully tell Autumn she’d attempted to see Roman.
She pressed the doorbell anyway, just to be sure. Waited a couple of seconds and turned toward the cab. She would call in the morning to make an appointment.
She’d only taken two steps when she heard a voice as familiar as her own heartbeat.
“May I help you?”
Her heart jolted and she turned to the doors, peering up at the security camera.
“Sorry,” she said. “I know you’re closed...”
“Ella? Is that you?”
“Yes.”
“I’m buzzing you in. Take the elevator up to the fifth floor. I’ll wait for you there.”
A clicking noise sounded and Ella reached for the door, pulling it open and stepping inside.
She removed her gloves and tucked them into her purse, then tugged at the edges of her cap to make sure it was secure.
A reception desk sat empty, its black granite shiny and clean. Ella’s boots squeaked along the hardwood floors as she made her way to the elevator.
Inside, she pressed the number five and clenched her hands together as she ascended. Five floors were all that stood between Ella and the man she’d spent the last several years learning to live without.
Five floors and five million heartbeats.
The doors slid open and there he stood, wearing a sharp suit and a warm smile—a devastating combination that stole her breath. Ella exited the elevator, stopping just short of stepping into his arms. She shoved her hands into her coat pockets.
“Ella,” he said, his voice all low and smooth like it had always been, his eyes searching hers. “It’s been a long time.”
She nodded. “Six years.” And five months and a handful of days. He looked every bit the man she’d known—only since she’d last caught a glimpse of him he’d shaved off his goatee and bulked up at the gym.
Her gaze darted around him and down a hallway with glass doors and gleaming wood.
He touched her arm and warmth seeped through the wool of her coat.
“Are you okay?”
Ella drew a shaky breath and looked into eyes that had always been able to read her heart.
“I don’t think so, Roman. I need your help.”
His eyes narrowed and he gestured down the hall. “Let’s go to my office.”
* * *
Ella Camden was the last person Roman had expected to see when he’d heard the doorbell moments ago. A new client in need of help, maybe. Someone looking for work, likely. Ella, the woman he’d never stopped loving? Not even on his radar.
Her boots tread quietly along the hallway behind him and he opened the door to his office, letting her pass through first. She’d cut her hair. Coppery brown barely peeked out below the light gray knit cap she wore. She kept her hands in the pockets of a black winter coat and didn’t meet his eyes as she entered.
“What a view,” she said, moving to the floor-to-ceiling windows in his office.
The dismal gray evening had grown darker, but the harbor beyond Roman’s office was lit up and bustling with Friday nightlife.
“What you’ve built here is amazing, Roman,” Ella said, turning back toward the office and absently plucking a business card from the holder on his desk. She traced a thumb over the print, her gaze unreadable.
She seemed genuinely impressed and Roman almost asked why she’d waited so long to come see it for herself. But this meeting wasn’t about them. “I had a lot of help,” he said instead, waiting for her to explain why she’d come.
She was too skinny. Even with the bulky winter coat he could see that. Her eyes hadn’t changed, though, their soft green-gray pulling him into memories long tucked away. And better kept there, he reminded himself. He’d spent years burying those memories under a relentless workload that didn’t leave room for regret. But coming face-to-face with Ella brought it all screaming back.
“Want to have a seat?” He moved to his chair, pushing aside his closed laptop. He’d just been packing up to head home when Ella had arrived. But he wasn’t in a rush. The only thing waiting for him at home was a fridge full of leftover takeout