Trust Issues

Chapter 1

Those last few moments haunted my nightmares—had tormented me in my sleeping and waking thoughts, pulling me from a conversation, a meal. It wasn't even the feeling of my whole body shutting down that had stayed with me; it was the horrible feeling I'd just made a terrible mistake, which I would never be able to undo. Truthfully, I didn't even remember the moment when my body had shut down.

I think my subconscious had intentionally blocked out that moment. What I did remember, what I knew I'd remember for the rest of my life, was the feeling of complete and utter dread as the last syllable of the Siren Song left my mouth. Dad had given me mouth-to-mouth, the water fraught with tension and fear as the seconds passed.

According to Mom, I'd been 'dead' for barely a minute before my eyes had flown open, my chest heaving as I'd gasped loudly, trying to get used to breathing again. Two years had passed since then, but for me, it felt like it had happened yesterday.

Since then, I'd struggled to get back to whatever passed for normalcy. Even something as simple as swimming from room to room was a challenge now. I'd exerted my body so much in the weeks leading up to my 'death' that it'd left a permanent mark. I got short of breath far too often and had to stave off panic attacks whenever my heart skipped a beat or my breath caught.

Our whole family had never been the same. Everyone had a permanent haunted look in their eyes that never went away. Even now, I still wondered if Zander had bought our ruse. We hadn't seen him since, but we had not let our guard down. Just to be safe, I'd undergone a physical transformation—dying my hair black with a bottle of squid ink and cutting it until it just barely brushed my shoulders. Until then, it had hung halfway down my back.

Now, I still did a double-take whenever I saw myself in a mirror. I knew that my blonde hair would be what stood out the most, meaning it had to change. As I glanced in the mirror in our bathing room, I barely recognized my reflection. A flash of movement behind me had me whirling around, coming face-to-face with Dad. Every time I looked at him, the ache in my heart intensified.

More than anything, I hated the terror my family had felt at the moment, the complete and utter helplessness. I hated the haunted look in their eyes—the look I was responsible for. They never spoke of it, but I knew they all coped differently.

For Drew, it was throwing himself into cometball and school; for Mom and Dad, it was making an effort to be more active in the kingdom. Once a month, he and Mom ventured outside the palace, visiting various restaurants and greeting mermaids and mermen personally. They wanted everyone to know they genuinely cared for and loved their citizens.

They'd also personally overseen the construction of the new school across from the Bronze Mermaid. There already was a school in Aegrem—Drew and I both made the journey multiple times a week—but they'd thought it would be simpler if parents didn't have to make that long journey every week. The response was more than any of us could have hoped for. More than half the citizens had publicly expressed gratitude, leaving offerings near the palace entrance.

Dad had a sympathetic look in his eyes as he met my gaze. "Waverly sent a letter asking if we would like to join her and Laguna for breakfast at the Bronze Mermaid. She also mentioned she hoped Jonah would join as well."

A blush warmed my face as I thought about my husband. That word—husband—still sent chills down my spine. Jonah had stuck to me like glue as I'd recovered, looking at me much like I'd looked at him while he'd been in the hospital. After what happened two years ago, he wasted no time proposing to me soon after I'd been released from the hospital. The rings on my right hand were proof of our love and our commitment to each other.

As if he'd heard us talking about him, Jonah swam into our suite, the door opening and closing silently behind him. "Hey." There was a brightness to his voice and expression that I hadn't seen in quite some time. His face was flushed, his eyes sparkling. Dad grinned when he saw Jonah extending his hand to shake. Jonah had an identical look on his face as he shook Dad's hand.

I mustered a weak grin. "Hey. Early-morning cometball game?" Drew had convinced Jonah to join his team, and the two practiced whenever they had a spare moment. The latter had taken it upon himself to take Drew under his wing, improving the former's technique and overall performance. Since then, they'd won almost every single game.

I left our room while talking, Jonah and Dad on my tail. When we reached the dining room, Mom was already there. She grinned at us, eyes sparkling. I drew several deep breaths, exhaling slowly, then desperately hoped no one noticed.

Jonah was at my side in seconds. "I was just telling your brother that it's always a good idea to keep your skills sharp." When the merman in question swam in seconds later, having heard the tail end of our conversation, he shot me a sly grin. His black hair shone with sweat, and his forehead gleamed, but adrenaline filled his eyes.

"What Jonah really means, Faye, is he needed that practice to keep in shape for our next match. I barely had to put in any effort while he did all he could to keep up. I had, what? Five or six points on you?" There was a teasing lilt to his voice, his eyes sparking with good-natured humor.

Jonah shook his head. "You're dreaming." They continued their banter as we left the palace and went to the Bronze Mermaid. I maintained a thin smile during breakfast but barely said a word.

Waverly and her mother were as bubbly and cheerful as ever, joining the conversation effortlessly. More than anything, I hated the pity and worry in my oldest friend's eyes whenever our gazes met. Though she hadn't been present for the accident, she'd seldom left my side during my recovery.

As for Waverly, she still had some scars that were healing as well. The anger that had surfaced in her eyes when we'd revealed to her what Zander had done was something I never wanted to see again. If scars—visible and not—were all we had to show from that day, I'd gladly live with the hitch in my chest.

Whenever I looked at Jonah, my heart clenched. I hadn't told anyone this, but in those few moments I'd been dead, an image had appeared in the white that had blinded me. Jonah, floating a few feet away from me, with a regretful look on his face as he left, taking my shattered heart with him.

I'd thrown my arms around him the next time I'd seen him, barely able to breathe through the sobs wracking my body. Along with the shortness of breath and panic attacks, I had to fight off a different sort of panic whenever Jonah and I were apart. The anxiety that despite my best efforts, despite everything we'd been through, he would end up leaving.

As crazy as it sounded, I couldn't quiet that tiny voice telling me the same thing. That, as happy and loved as I was now, it wouldn't last forever. What terrified me more than the voice and the anxiety and panic attacks was the sinking feeling that those words would eventually prove true—that I would finally have to face my most profound fear: abandonment.

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