Page 27 of Synodic

“Those are so incredibly good for you. You better be drinking them.”

“You don’t have to keep cooking for me. You’re way too busy as it is,” I said for the millionth time.

“I know, but I enjoy doing it for you, okay? Growing up, I never had anyone to cook for or eat with. It was always just me.” Natalie was very open about her childhood. With neglectful parents, she’d practically had to raise herself. For as long as she could remember, she’d done everything on her own, and I admired her for it. “Being there for each other seems like something families do. And I have that with you. I really miss our breakfasts together. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much lately, and when I am, only terrible things happen.”

“Hey, we’re together now, and having a great time. Even if our server is scowling at me as we speak.” We both burst out laughing when we confirmed that he was indeed looking at me not all too pleasantly.

We finished the rest of our meals, exchanging easy conversation before parting ways at the sidewalk.

I window-shopped the streets of the new art and shopping district, thinking about what a consistent figure Natalie had been in my life these past few years. I found comfort in our friendship, and though there were parts of me she would never understand, I was glad I had her. But I still found myself longing for something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

I continued to walk down the busy sidewalk, a sea of unfamiliar strangers surging by. I found myself scanning each face in hopes I’d see Rowen making his way toward me through the crowd.

I knew it was impossible and foolish, but I couldn’t seem to get him out of my mind. Quite literally. Any man that looked vaguely like him had me turning my head.

He was in so much more than just my dreams. He was in the beating pulse of my veins, the unheard whisper across my ear, and the flicker of shadows in my periphery.

I’d been dreaming about him for a month now, each encounter more real than the last. Especially last night. I had felt every inch of him pressed up against me as he shielded me from the forest laiths. Looking back, I should have been more terrified, doing everything I could to claw myself away and run.

Rowen said my lowered inhibitions were from the poisoned water, but there was no water, was there? Just my mind creating these scenarios I had no idea it was even capable of making.

Still, I had been too oblivious, too distracted by his breath and hands on me. Even now, just thinking about it had my palms sweating and heart racing. The mere thought of him made my body react physically. It seemed I could never escape him.

An alert on my phone suddenly knocked me back to reality. A reality where Rowen didn’t exist. Not my favorite place to be, but the real world was a bitch that way.

Excited to see me tonight?

Annoyed, I left Harlan’s text on “read.”I was going to see him in a few hours anyway.

With time to kill, I moseyed around the colorful shops and art exhibits, knowing full well I should work instead. I’d let the emails pile up in my inbox, and for the most part, I’d been doing an outstanding job of avoiding them. The thought of inputting even one more number had me wanting to rip my hair out. I couldn’t believe how long I’d been doing work I absolutely hated.

As much as I’d tried to avoid it, my dreams had officially started to hinder my day-to-day, but I feared the worst was yet to come. Because as much as I fought to deny Rowen, I wanted to know him—in every way.

12

I headed to Harlan’s after forcing myself into a somewhat productive day, miraculously managing to get some work done. It had taken nearly every ounce of willpower to concentrate on the menial tasks at hand, but a girl still had bills to pay.

I’d come straight here, wearing my high-waisted jeans, crop top, and chunky heeled boots from my lunch date with Natalie. There was no reason to get dolled up. This was Harlan’s last chance, not mine.

I rapped my knuckles against the door, secretly hoping he wouldn’t answer, but when he threw open the door and gathered me into a hug, I was taken aback. Not because he looked so good framed in the doorway, barefoot in his fitted jeans and t-shirt, or because of the overly fragranced aftershave wafting off his skin, not even for the way his lean body molded around me. But because standing before me, I could see, smell, and feel him just as easily as I could Rowen.

“Is everything alright?” Harlan asked, catching my head in his hands and staring at me with wide brown eyes.

It was disorienting how Rowen was just as real to me as Harlan. Even though Harlan was about the same height as Rowen, he packed nowhere near the raw muscle and strength the man from my dreams did.

“No. I mean, yes,” I said quickly and awkwardly. “I’m alright.”

With a full-fledged smile, he led me into his sleek, modern apartment, all chrome, straight lines, and skylights. “Let me get you a drink,” he said as he stalked off toward the kitchen.

Harlan’s home was installed with all the latest technologies and smart devices on the market, not a single out-of-date item in sight. His materialistic tendencies hadn’t bothered me in the past, so long as he didn’t force them on me, but looking around now, it just seemed excessive and exhausting.

I let my thoughts wander to what Rowen’s home might look like but I stopped myself short.

Why was I thinking about Rowen right now? He was just a beautiful delusion my imagination invented to either delight or torment me, and to be honest—it was beginning to feel more like the latter.

Whereas Harlan was real, made of flesh and bone, not shadows and mist.

A notion struck me. Was that what my dreams were trying to tell me? That I shouldn’t keep entertaining the idea of a fabricated life, but focus on the real one right in front of me? Had I been clinging to this false hope for so long that it sabotaged everything in my path, even my relationships?

---