“Stubborn.” Della smiled.
“Yeah.” I nodded, sighing again.
“Just like Ren, he’s a loner at heart, but he has so much love to give to the right person.”
“Are you sure?” I didn’t have the guts to ask if I was the right person or not.
“Am I sure?” She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
I daren’t look at her. “Are you sure he’s capable of loving? I mean…he seems pretty adamant that he’s not.”
She shook her head sadly. “Ah.” Looking at the moon, she murmured, “I’m afraid that’s my fault. Our fault.”
“Yours?”
“Ren and me.”
I waited for her to elaborate, but when she merely kept staring at the spider web of stars above, I understood there was nothing more to be said.
I spoke instead. “He knows how I feel about him. But he refuses to admit he feels something, too.” It wasn’t awkward discussing this with Della. She’d become my friend over the past weeks. Besides, her sad calmness and loving hopefulness spoke to something smarting inside me. “He refuses to see the truth.”
“And he’ll continue to refuse.”
My heart sank to the dirt below. “Forever?”
She shrugged, never taking her eyes off the dark horizon. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“On how much pain you’re willing to go through until he does.”
“And if I don’t know if I’m strong enough?”
She turned to face me, her blue gaze wise and understanding. “Then that’s Jacob’s loss.” Reaching out, her soft touch grazed my cheek. “If he can’t see how brave and beautiful you are, then he doesn’t deserve you. I’m not talking ill of my son. I love him more than I can bear, but seeing him push away happiness, all because we stupidly taught him that happiness causes so much suffering, breaks my heart. Don’t let him break yours too, Hope.”
Her hand dropped away as she pushed upward and stood over me, blocking out the moon and stars. “I meant what I said to your father. You’re welcome here, for however long you want. With Jacob or without. I hope you know that.”
My heart fisted around a nucleus of agony, but I nodded gratefully. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
“The fact that you’re trying to help my son means the world to me. It’s the least I can do.” She laughed softly. “Besides, the past has a funny way of repeating itself. I was once in love with a boy who didn’t love me the same way, and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done to make him see otherwise. But it was worth it in the end. You’re a wonderful girl, Hope. If anyone can put up with Jacob, it’s you. You’re the best daughter anyone could ask for.”
I blushed, choking on a sudden wash of tears. Tears for a mother I never truly knew. Tears for a father who was so far away. Tears for true love broken by stubbornness.
Della smiled, hearing what I couldn’t say. Knowing how much she meant to me. How much all of this meant to me.
“Goodnight, Hope.” Blowing me a kiss, she headed back to the house where soul-mates had lived, death had visited, and heartbreak continued to haunt them.
Jacob had moved from that ghost-filled house, but his heart still carried them regardless.
I didn’t belong in either home.
So I stayed in the field.
Neutral territory.
An island of confusion.
A girl blanketed by midnight.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Jacob
* * * * * *
“YOU’RE HURTING EVERYONE, Wild One. Didn’t I teach you to be better than that?”
I hung my head, slipping back into the child I’d been when I lost my father. The child who still dictated a lot of my fear. The child petrified of love.
Dad moved around the small clearing where trees canopied and protected us. The trunk I’d carved Dad’s tattoo and our initials into was already so much higher than that awful day of his funeral.
Funny that I knew this was a dream.
Funny that I knew he was dead and this was just a figment of my sleeping unconsciousness.
Funny that none of that mattered.
I was still being scolded. Judged. Condemned.
Dad moved to sit on the log in front of me. The fire that was always the heart of our campsite blazed with orange flames.
“Didn’t I tell you to look after her? Didn’t I tell you to keep her happy?”
I nodded, thinking of Mom and how I’d hurt her, thinking of Hope and how I’d broken her, thinking of my family and how I’d only caused them pain. With heavy regret and burning anguish, I dragged a stick through ash and cinders. “You did.”
“Didn’t I tell you not to be afraid? That death isn’t the end? That nothing ever truly dies?”
“You did.”
“Then why are you resisting, Wild One? Why can’t you give into life? Into love?”
“Because…you lied.” I dared look up. Dared stare into the eyes of my imagination and study the father who was no longer real. He looked healthier than I’d ever seen him. Bronze hair glowing, dark eyes knowing, a face full of immortality.