I Pretended To Be His Crush For Three Years Chapter 20

I Pretended To Be His Crush For Three Years Chapter 20

Nora stood by the canal, staring at the words on her phone screen, her fingers gripping the device so hard they’d gone white.

Same flight.

Zurich.

The system wasn’t sending him to “see her one last time.” It was sending him to follow her.

She lifted her head and looked across the river.

The streetlamps stood over empty sidewalks. Nothing but the night wind scraping a few fallen leaves across

the cobblestones.

Her phone buzzed again. This time it wasn’t Hailey-it was Lucas. He was asking if she had time tomorrow,

wanted to take her to an art exhibition.

After they’d exchanged contact information, he’d messaged her a few times since. It was just that Nora had

been so caught up with Reid that she’d forgotten to respond at all.

She stared at the chat window. First, she apologized. Then she told him: “Tomorrow I need to be with my

boyfriend. I won’t have time for the exhibition.”

A long silence on the other end. Then a single word: “Okay.”

Nora took a deep breath, turned around, and walked back.

Reid’s apartment was on the third floor. The window was still lit.

Nora didn’t knock. She used the key he’d given her and let herself in.

He was sitting on the sofa, the notebook still in his hands. At the sound of the door, he looked up. A flicker of alertness crossed his eyes-then he recognized her, and the alertness dissolved, replaced by something

complicated and hard to name.

“Why are you back?” he asked.

“Your agent booked you a ticket to Zurich.” Nora walked up to him and held out her phone screen so he could

see. “Same flight as her.”

He looked down at it. His brow furrowed.

“I didn’t know about this.”

“Did the system tell you?”

“The system only said I should see her one last time.” His voice was strained. “It didn’t say anything about following her.”

“And now?”

He went silent.

Nora watched him, her heart pounding fast.

“Reid.” She crouched down so her eyes were level with his. “Do you want to go?”

He looked at her. His eyes were no longer the completely blank, hollow voids of the past few days.

Something had crept into them-confusion, struggle, and something she couldn’t quite name, like a drowning

person desperately grasping for something to hold onto.

“No,” he said.

Nora let out a breath.

But his next words yanked that breath right back into her throat.

“But I can’t control myself.” His voice dropped so low it was almost a murmur to himself. “This afternoon,

alone in this room, there was a voice in my head-over and over-‘Go to Nyssa. Complete your mission.””

“That isn’t your voice,” Nora said.

“I know.” He looked up at her. “But it’s getting louder.”

Nora took his hand.

His hand was still cold, his fingertips trembling slightly.

“Do you remember what the notebook says?” she asked.

“I remember.” He said. “Every page.”

“Not with your brain.” She looked at him. “With this.”

Nora pressed his hand against his own chest.

His heart was racing. She could feel it through the thin fabric of his shirt-the rhythm frantic, hurried, like

something running for its life.

“My heart is beating fast,” he said.

“Not because you’re afraid.”

“Then why?”

“Because I’m here in front of you.” Nora said. “You told me once-every time you see me, your heart beats

faster. You said that was your body telling you that you love me.”

His eyes reddened.

“Nora.”

“Mm.”

“I think…” His voice cracked. “I think I remembered a little something.”

“Remembered what?”

“An image.” His brow furrowed tight, as if he were straining to catch hold of something. “You were standing in front of a canvas. Sunlight was pouring through the window, landing on your hair. Your fingers were covered in paint-red, blue, yellow. You were laughing.”

Nora’s tears fell.

That was the day she’d painted Light. It was an afternoon when he’d come looking for her at the studio. He’d said the sunlight that day was so beautiful he’d never forget it for the rest of his life.

“And then?” she asked through her tears.

“And then it was gone.” His voice was soft. “Like a dream-once you wake up, you can’t remember anything.”

“Enough,” she said. “That’s enough.”