And I’m just about to say as much when he reaches across the table, reaches for my hand, and says, “Ever…” His voice cracking in a way that forces him to swal ow, clear his throat, and start again. “Ever, what if you don’t return?”
“Of course I’l return!” I practical y jettison out of my chair, sliding al the way to the edge, hardly believing he’d even think such a thing.
“Damen, I would never leave you! Sheesh, is that what’s got you so upset?”
“No,” he says, voice steadier now. “I was thinking more along the lines of: What if you can’t come back? What if you get trapped? Lost in the muck? What if you can’t find your way out?” His stricken gaze meets mine, and it’s clear that he’s already experiencing some imagined, future loss despite the fact that I’m stil here, stil sitting before him.
But it’s not like I don’t get it. In fact, I completely understand.
Having lost me so many previous times, he’s terrified at losing me again just when he was sure he had me for eternity. The sheer depth of his emotion robbing me of breath, leaving me speechless, humbled, with no easy reply, no easy way to comfort him.
“It won’t happen,” I final y say, hoping to convince. “You and I are meant to be. It’s the only thing I’m absolutely sure of. And while I have no idea what to expect, I promise I’l do whatever it takes to find my way back. Seriously, Damen, nothing can keep us apart—or at least not for long. But for now, I have to go. And I have to go it alone, Lotus was clear about that. So please, please just let me do this, please just let me see where this leads. I can’t rest until I try. And while I know it’s a lot to ask, I real y wish you would try to understand. And if you can’t do that, then I wish you’d at least try to support me. Can you do that?”
But even though my voice practical y pleads with him to look at me, to respond in some way, he continues to sit in silence, lost in his own mental scenery.
Choosing to take a wild leap of faith and hoping he’l come along for the ride, I add, “Damen, I know how you feel, believe me I do. But I can’t help thinking there’s more to our story. An entire lifetime we’re both completely unaware of. I think it’s the clue, or maybe the key, as Lotus put it. The key that’l lead us to the reason behind al of the obstacles we’ve been plagued with for al of these centuries, including the one we face now.”
But, like I said, it was a leap.
A leap that lands flat on its face when Damen rises from his seat, moves away from the table, and looks at me briefly. His gaze bleak, his voice cold, clipped, tel ing me he’s a mil ion miles away when he says, “So I guess that’s it then. Your mind is made up. In which case I wish you al the best, and I look forward to your return.”
twelve
“You sure you don’t want to come in?”
I shake my head, meeting Jude’s gaze for a moment before shifting my focus to the barren winter stems that once bore the beautiful pink and purple peonies that lined the path from the drive to his door.
“So, you’re real y going through with this?”
I nod. Realizing I should probably try to answer at least one of his questions verbal y, but at the moment, I’m feeling far too choked up to speak. Unable to keep my mind from replaying that last scene with Damen—his final words, what he said about the possibility of my not returning, getting lost in the muck, unable to find my way back. The way he pul ed me into his arms just after, stopping just short of storming out of the room to circle back to me, his body moving toward mine almost against his wil . His embrace so warm, so al -
encompassing, so loving, so … brief, it served as a complete and total contrast for his words, which were nothing shy of cold and perfunctory.
And even though I could sense his inner struggle, even though I recognized the signs of someone striving to detach from an outcome they’re convinced can only end in heartbreak, I couldn’t help but expect something more.
Even though I knew I had to go it alone, even though I insisted the journey was mine and mine alone, I stil thought for sure he’d at least escort me to Summerland.
Pushing the thought from my mind, I resolve to focus on the present—on the space where Jude stands before me, the two of us flanking either side of his doorway.
“So where’s Damen, then?” He peers at the empty space to my right then eyebal s me careful y. “He’s going with you, right?”
I lower my gaze. Al too aware of the horrible way my throat tightens as my eyes start to sting—the usual warnings that a flood of tears is in the making, but I stop it right there. I won’t let myself cry.
Not here.
Not in front of Jude.
Not for something I’ve elected to do.
Final y pul ing myself together, I say, “It’s just me. This is something I’ve got to do alone. Lotus made that abundantly clear.” Lifting my shoulders as though it’s no big deal, and hoping he’l buy it too.
He leans against the door, hands shoved deep into his front pockets. And from the look of his quirked mouth, and from the slant of his spliced brow, it’s clear he’s doing just the opposite, trying to determine what could be going on between Damen and me.
But that’s not why I’m here, so I’m quick to wave it away, my eyes meeting his as I say, “Listen, I just wanted to stop by and say thanks.
Thanks for being such a good friend to me throughout al of these … lifetimes.”
He frowns and looks past me, focusing on the street just beyond, emitting some kind of sarcastic sound, a cross between a grunt and a groan, before he says, “Ever, you might want to save your gratitude for someone who deserves it. None of my actions have proved to be the least bit helpful. In fact, it’s pretty much the opposite—I’ve made everything worse. Seems I’ve got a real y bad habit of messing things up in a pretty big way.”