With Love from the Past Read online

  ALSO BY LAUREN SMYTH

  STORIES OF THE NIGHT

  MADE FOR MERCY

  WITH LOVE FROM THE PAST

  ©2022 by Lauren Smyth

  All rights reserved

  ISBN: 978-1-64960-137-7

  eISBN: 978-1-64960-187-2

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2022930543

  Cover Design by Hannah Linder Designs

  Interior Typesetting by Dentelle Design

  Edited by Megan Gerig

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the publisher using the information below.

  AMBASSADOR INTERNATIONAL

  Emerald House

  411 University Ridge, Suite B14

  Greenville, SC 29601, USA

  www.ambassador-international.com

  AMBASSADOR BOOKS

  The Mount

  2 Woodstock Link

  Belfast, BT6 8DD, Northern Ireland, UK

  www.ambassadormedia.co.uk

  The colophon is a trademark of Ambassador, a Christian publishing company.

  To Mom and Dad, who helped me overcome the injury that inspired this book, and to my physical therapist, who motivated me to turn a tough situation into a story to inspire others.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Information

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Contact Information

  I want to be in control of everyone so I can know how you felt. I want to be the author of your story.

  Writing was my favorite—my only—pastime. I wrote on the walls and on the floor because nobody would give me a sheet of paper. That’s when I first started thinking about writing for you.

  Ari sat up and rubbed her eyes, dazed from sleep. What was that noise?

  The high-pitched ringing made her ears ache. She rolled out of bed and onto the floor, crawling slowly toward the source of the sound. Since when had her apartment gotten so dark?

  Her hands scraped across the carpet, and the crumbs stung her palms. Maybe getting up wasn’t worth it after all, not if it meant leaving the warm solitude of her bed for the dingy nightmare that was her apartment. And the sound—it was just her phone, after all. It was plugged in on the kitchen counter, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d touched it. Why was it ringing now?

  She pulled it out from under a pile of trash, dragged herself back to the bed, and pulled the blanket up over her face.

  “Hello?” she murmured.

  “Hello!” A playful voice screeched so loudly that it disintegrated into static. “It’s Lia!”

  “Why are you calling so early in the morning?”

  “You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

  Ari clenched her fists around the blanket. The wedding. “No, I haven’t. Of course not.”

  “Aww, I knew you wouldn’t. You’d never do something like that.” Lia laughed. “You’re such a tease. Can I throw you the flowers? I really want you to have them. They would look so pretty in your apartment.”

  “I don’t want you to waste the bouquet.” Ari let her phone slip through her fingers to the floor. She could hear Lia’s voice faintly: “Hello? Hello? Ari, are you okay? Are you there?” She reached down and hung up. Bad service. That’s a good enough excuse.

  She peeled away the covers and swung her legs off the side of the bed. The air in her apartment was stale and chilly, like an icy blanket against her skin. She pulled a brush through her hair, avoiding her own eyes in the mirror, then dug through the wad of wrinkled clothes in the corner of her bathroom floor and pulled on a sweatshirt.

  She went to the kitchen and opened all the cabinets one by one. Empty. She tried the fridge next. It was empty, too, and it reeked of stale cheese. Ari slammed the door shut before the smell could leak into the room.

  A sense of unrealism hit her. The clothes piled on the floor, the food wrappers scattered on the table, the unwashed dishes piled on the sink. The musty scent of the carpet, the thick coating of dust everywhere, the mold thriving near the trash can. She slid down to the floor with her back against the fridge, pressing her freezing hands to her hot cheeks, wondering if she was awake or if this was all just a horrible dream.

  This is what you’ve been doing this whole time.

  Did you think it would all just go away after you forgot?

  The grocery store had always been the bane of Ari’s existence. It was her only unavoidable chore, and it meant going out into the world and facing strangers—strangers who could see the reflection of her dirty apartment in her eyes. They could read her pale skin and know she hadn’t been outside in weeks. They couldn’t hide the sneering flicker of judgment on their faces before they looked away, too preoccupied to spare her a kind thought.

  From the moment she left her apartment, she kept her gaze fixed firmly to the ground. The street noises faded away into a dismal hum at the back of her mind, and it was easy to drown them behind the whispering voices in her head.

  As she reached the grocery store, she felt a wet drop on her shoulder, then another and another. The drizzle soon turned into tiny pellets of hail which clicked loudly against the roof. Ari avoided the windows, filling her basket with groceries, trying not to stray too far from the aisle with the fewest people. In one of the freezer doors, she accidentally caught a glimpse of her reflection. Stained sweatshirt, several sizes too big because it was the only one she had left. Messy hair bunched up on one side. Dazed eyes that were barely visible in the glass, sunk like holes into her face.

  You’re disgusting.

  She wanted to escape the endless rows of glass freezers, but she couldn’t walk home in a hailstorm. So she slipped into the checkout line and paid for her groceries. Her wallet was almost empty. It reminded her that her rent payments were on auto-deposit, and she didn’t know if there was anything left in her bank account to withdraw. Well, there was nothing she could do about it. Maybe she would become homeless. Maybe she would just have to get used to being outside in bad weather.

  She plopped down on a wheelchair, surrounded by brown paper bags, and let her head fall back and her eyes drift shut.

  “Jules?”

  Ari jumped to her feet so quickly that the bag on her lap slipped and sent cans rolling across the floor.

  “G-Grey!” she stammered, scrambling to clean up the mess. “What are you doing here? Where’s Lia?”

  “I think she’s getting ready for the ceremony.” Grey shot her a friendly smile and picked up a stray can that had stopped against his shoe. “I’m supposed to pick up some snacks, but I saw you here and figured you could use an umbrella. Want me to help you get these bags home?”

  Can I say I’ve been sick? Out partying? How do I explain why I look like this?

  Grey bent down and picked up the rest of the cans. “You coming?”

  Ari hesitated. But since he had her groceries hostage, she couldn’t refuse.

  They walked along in silence for almost a block, their conversation drowned out by the hail pattering on the umbrella, the chatter of people around them, and the traffic noise. Ari was glad Grey couldn’t ask any questions. She avoided looking at him, stifling her curiosity to see what he looked like. It’d been so long.

  They turned down a side street, and the noise around them faded to a gentle hum.

  “How are you doing?” Grey asked. “Have you heard from any of your friends? Found a new job?”

  Ari shook her head, and a few drops of melted ice fell onto her face from her hair. “I don’t keep in contact with anyone,” she answered.

  Grey cleared his throat. “Have you thought about a government career? The NDEB, maybe?”

  “I wouldn’t know how to apply.” Ari flushed. Just as she’d suspected, he saw right through her excuses. He always did.

  “That’s where I work. I’m sure they’d be happy to take another veteran.”

  She forced a smile and clenched her fists around the handles of her sacks. “I don’t know if it’s worth it. I’m sure I could find work at one of the stores near here if I needed to.”

  “You might as well try it out.” Grey sounded pitying—not at all the reaction Ari was hoping for. “You really should be doing something productive, Jules. I’ll submit all your details to the chief. Promise me you’ll consider it if they ask you to come for an interview?”

  “Sure.” She stopped abruptly in front of a row of apartment buildings—much nicer ones than hers. For a moment she felt almost envious. “This is my place. You can just hand me the groceries. I’ll take them up.”

  Grey helped her gather all the paper bags into her arms, then stepped back. “You sure you’ve got that?”

/>   “Yeah.” She paused, took a deep breath, and added, “And please stop calling me Jules.”

  “Sorry . . . ” Grey dragged the word out like he wanted to say something else, but Ari turned away without giving him the chance.

  Once she safely rounded the corner, she slid down against the wall, her arms burning from the constricting paper handles. She was still half a mile away from her apartment, but she couldn’t stand another second of Grey’s well-meaning condescension. Better to carry the eight paper bags herself than listen to him talk about how much better his life was now that he’d found work, a wife, and a reason to stop and help someone he hadn’t spoken to in years.

  You’re sad you can’t be like him?

  Poor you!

  She shook her head, trying to dispel the voices. The worst thing was that they never lied to her—whenever they accused her, their words rang true. She hated how they always harshly dragged her out of her self-pity, and she didn’t want to listen. The longer she sat still, the louder they’d get.

  She peeked around the corner, half-hoping Grey would still be there, worrying about her, waiting to see if she’d gotten inside safely. But he was gone.

  Ari turned her back to the mirror and glanced over her shoulder to see her reflection. Her long, navy blue dress brushed the floor with a soft rustle. It was wide open in the back, and Ari felt uncomfortably exposed. Somebody was sure to ask about her scars, but this was the only formal dress she had. She couldn’t show up at Grey and Lia’s wedding in uniform.

  She took her keys from the hook beside the door, looking closely at the key fob. It had been so long since she had driven that she had forgotten which button unlocked the car. And when she went outside, she realized that she had also forgotten where she parked her car. She paused at the bottom of the steps and looked around uncertainly.

  Far corner, of course. Where I always park it.

  But when she got in the car and felt the cold leather against her bare back, the draft against her face where the windshield had cracked and never been fixed, and the grime on the steering wheel that she hadn’t bothered to clean, her resolve weakened. She knew she wasn’t the person Lia wanted at her wedding. Lia was looking forward to seeing the Ari she remembered from the army days—the composed, disciplined, self-motivated Ari. The one who knew how to clean a saber and march in line and salute her superiors, not the one who hadn’t left her apartment in months and didn’t look anyone in the eyes. Despite all the time she’d spent in front of her mirror, Ari hadn’t managed to change back into her old self. Whatever she’d done since the army wasn’t reversible, and Lia would know it the moment she saw her.

  Ari turned her key in the ignition, guiltily suppressing her excuses. She had to be there for Lia, just like Lia had always been there for her.

  But the engine didn’t start.

  Ari’s frustration got the better of her, and instead of investigating, she climbed out of the car and bolted back inside. She had a real excuse now—if her car wouldn’t start, she couldn’t get to the wedding. End of story. That was all she had to tell Lia, and she’d be free from all her obligations. If there was any money left in her bank account, maybe she could even have a late wedding gift delivered. By mail, not in person, of course.

  She changed back into a sweatshirt and jeans and tucked her face securely under her hood. There was a bar just down the street from her apartment, a sleazy place where she wouldn’t be an eyesore. Maybe, after a few drinks, she could work up the courage to call a taxi and go to Lia’s wedding.

  She left the apartment and hurried along the sidewalk, nearly slipping in the puddles left from the hailstorm. Her phone was ringing in her pocket, but this time she ignored it.

  She’d never been to this particular bar before, but she’d been watching it from her window, keeping tabs on who went in and out. She knew how long they stayed and who the designated drivers were, who left drunk and who left only a little tipsy. They all looked just like her—lowlifes, she told herself. She could tell from the way people walked in front of the lights on dark nights that the counter was in the back. That was where she’d feel the safest. She walked inside, perched herself on a stool, and ordered a shot of straight vodka from the bartender. He slammed the glass on the counter without sparing her a second glance.

  One tentative sip. Then another. Then the glass was empty. Ari’s eyes glazed over. People mingled and flowed around the room, their movements dizzying. Now she remembered why she hated crowds. There was too much to take in, and she felt totally out of control. She ordered another drink and rested her elbows on the counter.

  A strong hand clamped down on her shoulder. “Miss Ari?”

  She glanced up, startled and ready to fight, and found herself staring into a pair of unfamiliar blue eyes framed by whitish blond hair. His pupils were dilated, and it was obvious he’d been drinking. Not much of a threat.

  “Relax, we’re all here to have fun.” The man sat down and offered her his hand to shake, which she ignored. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. Or see you again, rather.” The man took a swig from a glass the bartender handed him.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Ari shot a quick glance across the room to see if anyone was within earshot. But the music was loud, and nobody had been paying attention to the silent girl who looked like she wanted to be left alone. “Do you know me?”

  “From the army. How could you have forgotten?”

  Ari shifted uncomfortably. Strange man, strange drink, strange environment. Her eyes were crossing. There were two columns, one, then two. How had she gotten drunk so fast? She put a finger in her drink and stirred. Maybe . . . there was something powdery in the texture. Or maybe there wasn’t. Her finger trembled against the glass.

  The man’s friendly smile changed to a pitying smirk. “You’re exactly what I thought you’d be—a hopeless, lazy shut-in. I was going to help you, but now I’m not sure there’s much left to be helped.”

  Ari staggered unsteadily to her feet, realizing that she ought to feel offended. The room blurred around her. Voices swirled into an indiscernible medley of empty noise.

  Now she was on the floor, staring blankly up at a woman’s face. She seemed scared. Ari wondered what she was worried about.

  How did I get here?

  He was balanced on the edge of the roof, swaying back and forth, his heels barely touching the edge. A few more seconds and he’d fall.

  She tried to take a step forward. Her legs were heavy and stuck to the ground. She couldn’t lift her feet. She opened her mouth to scream. No sound came out. Her throat was hoarse with yelling, yet she couldn’t even hear her own voice. She reached out her hands, praying he’d somehow hear her movement and turn around, yet even the soft rustling of her clothes as she moved was inaudible.

  He was going to fall, and she couldn’t stop him.

  “Kira!” she screamed.

  His name echoed, and Ari took a deep, ragged breath.

  Where am I? What was that?

  “Kira?” Lia’s twittery voice sounded sharp. “Did you have a nightmare?”

  Ari managed to focus her eyes on Lia’s face. She had changed out of her dress and was wearing a sweatshirt over leggings, but her bridal makeup was still intact. Rhinestones that looked like tears sparkled under her eyes, and they made Ari dizzy.

  “What happened?” She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in the front of her head forced her to lie back down. She closed her eyes and shivered. “How did you get here?”

  “Apparently, I’m the emergency contact in your phone,” Lia said. A dry edge to her voice suggested the discovery wasn’t welcome. “I got a call from your number and thought you might be explaining where you were. But instead, a paramedic said you needed somebody to drive you home or you’d have to spend the night in the hospital. You’ve been here for hours already.”

  “I could’ve called a taxi.” Ari tried again, successfully this time, to sit up and take a deep, comforting breath. Her tongue was dry, and her head was throbbing. Where have I felt like this before? She shook her head gently, trying to clear her thoughts. That feeling . . . something about it was painfully familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

  “I was worried when you didn’t show up.” Lia leaned back in her chair and clasped her hands together. “I was afraid . . . ” Her voice trailed off.