Page 66 of Your Soul to Keep

Get it over with.

“I can’t have kids, Gabe.”

His lips pressed tight as he pushed off the bed and knotted the condom. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured.

I rolled to my side and lay there, cold, while outside my window the birds celebrated the long-awaited warmth of spring.

Was this it?

The bathroom door quietly snicked shut.

Over before it began?

He slid in behind me, curving his long body around mine. “Is that why you’re sad sometimes?”

A tear squeaked past my defenses. I nodded tightly. “That’s why I’m sad sometimes.”

“Did you—”

“Gabe,” I protested softly. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

He paused, then dragged his hand down the length of my side and back, pressing a kiss to the back of my head. “One day you’ll tell me?”

I nodded. “One day.”

One day when I knew it wouldn’t make a difference.

One day when I was sure he would stay.

One day.

But not today.

Today was for walking around downtown Mistlevale with my hand tucked into his.

Along the main street that show-cased the windows that made Mistlevale famous, in and out of side streets lined with century-old cottages, and up to the top of the hill the locals affectionately nicknamed The North Pole for how high and steep it was to climb.

Today was for picking up lunch at the corner café, homemade bread sliced thick and piled high with fresh cut tomatoes, slabs of cheese, and shaved turkey.

And today was for making love late into the afternoon, the taste of chocolate and coffee on his tongue, his eyes warm with worship, his hands frantically making up for lost time as they caressed and squeezed and kneaded my flesh until I lay limp, boneless, and sated under his smugly satisfied gaze.

Today was for sweet kisses and future plans, long goodbyes and hope for tomorrow.

Standing at the door, loathe to let him leave, I was thankful for the day and night we’d had and excited for next Sunday when I’d see him again.

But when his taillights turned the corner, I felt every minute of the hour between Mistlevale and Sage Ridge. Because while I spent 90% of my time in Mistlevale, 99% of my heart resided in Sage Ridge.

During the week when we were apart, I missed Gabe. Dylan scared me, but I could not deny the fact she could so easily become my favorite person.

I missed my girls. While they could easily get together for a quick coffee at The Beanery or an impromptu lunch at Susie Q’s, I could not escape my work schedule or the fact I lived a solid hour away.

Rudolpho had worked overtime, and his wife Marlena had pitched in temporarily to take the load off while Nan was sick, but I couldn’t continue to lean on them.

And I couldn’t sell Ayana’s. It was all I had left of my family, and Ayana’s staff was the only pseudo-family I had left.

I couldn’t sell. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

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