“Okay what?”
“I'll go to your family's house for Thanksgiving. And we'll go to Ivan's wedding.”
He filled his lungs and nodded quickly to himself, like he needed reassurance, while I sat, stunned.
“Seriously? I kinda expected you to fight a little harder at least.”
He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Nope.”
“Why?” I asked against a burst of incredulous laughter.
“Because you'll be there,” he said with finality. “And I just decided that, for as long as we have together, I'll go where you go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHARLIE
MASSACHUSETTS, PRESENT DAY
“The right woman won't run away.”
Luke had said it firmly enough that I wanted to believe him, but I hadn't—Ididn't.
And every day since Stormy had arrived, I awoke with the chilled fingers of dread and fear wrapped around my heart, certain I'd find myself alone in my bed. But every day, my eyes would open to find her still there. Always asleep. Always wearing a smile.
Then, just like that, the sickening feeling of being left would dissipate quickly, and we'd begin our day.
We’d take a shower together, and I’d make us breakfast before opening the gate. Then, we’d take a nice drive through the quiet, empty cemetery to the parking lot, where, together, we’d heave the two iron sides of the gate open. Afterward, we'd go our separate ways. I would begin my work for the day, and she would either head back to the cottage or get into her car to do whatever it was she had to do around the city before heading to work.
At sundown, I'd lock the gate and head back to the house to draw or read before returning to the gate, happy to see her return. I would then make dinner, and after, there was always the promise of sex and deep, wonderful sleep, void of nightmares.
Suffice it to say, I was content, and although it seemed silly and extreme to declare it the best week I'd ever had, I was also never one to use my head when it came to relationships. But Luke had said the right one wouldn't be afraid of that, nor would she run away, and as the days went on, I found myself growing less cautious and more hopeful that Stormy could, in fact, beher.
The right one.
I wish Luke were here, I thought as I pulled into a parking space just around the corner from Salem Skin. He would like Stormy. She had enough in common with me to make this work, but the similarities in personality she shared with him startled me.
Sometimes, she even made missing him a little more bearable.
***
I got out of the truck and walked down the street to the shop, keeping my head down to avoid eye contact with the pedestrians on the sidewalk around me. On my way, I passed the open door to a tarot reading shop, the earthy scent of nag champa drifting along the November breeze. I didn't look inside to grab the attention of a woman standing near the doorway, her long skirt the only thing visible to my downturned gaze, but she spoke anyway.
“Your old soul has seen many things, but the other has now seen more,” she said, her old voice a whimsical, singsong whisper against the cacophony of cars and chatter around me. “She was sent for a purpose. You have no reason to doubt.”
Stormy was waiting for me at Salem Skin. It was her day off, but she'd gone in to set up some new supplies in her station. I had dropped her off after swinging by Jolie Tea, and she'd asked me to pick her up later in the day. She'd asked if I wanted to grab some dinner, maybe go on a real date, as she’d put it, and I'd reluctantly said yes.
She was waiting, but I stopped anyway to raise my eyes to the silver-haired woman in a gauzy-looking purple top and long, flowing black skirt.
“Were you talking to me?” I asked almost defensively and more than a little spooked.
“I was,” she crooned with a flutter of her eyelids.
She wore no makeup, and her skin was heavily lined with age. But there was a soft, gentle quality in her features and a youthful sparkle in her gray eyes that told me she must've been stunning years ago.
Honestly, she still was.
I studied her suspiciously, and she huffed a short laugh.