Page 34 of Whispers of Torment

“Why? For Nathan?” She met his eyes.

He nodded slightly. “That’s part of it. But mostly I’m here because I want to help you. It’s obvious you’re in distress, and you don’t deserve to be.”

“Don’t I?”

“No,” he said forcefully. “You’re not purposefully hurting the men you love. But they’re pulling you in two directions and causing you tremendous pain.” His words, so easily assessing the situation, grew a lump in her throat.

“How am I going to Call to him now?” Her teeth clamped upon her trembling lip.

Will handed Lillian a tissue. “Call to him and let him see into you. He’ll see your pain. You can’t hide from him, Lillian. It will only torment you further. Let him in. And be easy on yourself.”

She drew a deep, shuddering breath and began a new journey. A cautious journey toward Nathan, rather than running away.

* * *

The little arts and crafts chapel grew out of the cemetery grounds, enveloped with vines. Graceland Cemetery was the kind of place that gave Lillian the impression of walking the countryside. Rather than seeing only monuments to the dead, she saw the beauty of nature.

John left her at the Columbarium Wall, which was a semicircular wall fitted with plaques marking the remains of the dead. Lillian heard the scuttle of dry leaves and lifted her face to the chapping wind. Here, there was always wind, as though ghosts rushed through at high speeds.

She shivered and huddled deeper into her sweater. John’s dark shadow disappeared on his way to find their old friend from the post-war Chicago days. Days of excess had ended that friend’s life. Tears would be shed, but John hated for Lillian to witness them.

As soon as John was out of sight, Will slunk to her side with a grin. “This is fun. Very James Bond.”

She groaned. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” She looked at him, her lip caught between her teeth. “Will, I need to be alone for a bit. I’m going to Call to him.” Her words were quiet and the breeze muffled them further, but she hoped he heard well enough.

He kneaded her shoulder and pointed to a location a short distance away where he could still see her and come quickly if needed. “I’ll be over there. How long will John be?”

“An hour, maybe.”

“Will it take an hour to speak with Nathan?”

She was reminded of the single time their voices had met in that unfamiliar realm and she had lost all inkling of time. She chewed her lip. “I don’t know if he will talk to me.”

“He will.”

“How can you be so sure? I’ve hurt him so deeply.”

“Lillian.” He stooped to plant a kiss onto her forehead. “You are his world now. He’ll talk to you.” With that, he faded into the night.

She dropped to the stone wall, staring at her hands through a film of tears. She felt his name push up against her gut, and spoke it aloud and with her soul.

“Nathan.”

There was a ripple of blond.

Turning away from her.

Nathan, please.

No, Lillian. Not now.

Please hear me. I’m so sorry. You can’t begin to understand this.

Can’t I? His tone made her flinch. She saw his long fingers squeezed into fists, the knuckles white. He let the right fist fall open to reveal a wad of paper.

The poem.

I can see it really shatters you.

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