Page 56 of Never Quite Gone

We walked in silence for a while, each lost in our own thoughts. The city felt different somehow – older, deeper, full of shadows that might hold memories I wasn't ready to face.

“Michael...” I started, then stopped, uncertain how to frame the question.

“Was real,” Alex finished firmly. “Your love for him was real. Is real. Some souls are meant to find each other in every life, but that doesn't make other loves less meaningful.”

Something in my chest loosened at his words – not healing exactly, but the possibility of it. The knowledge that I could hold both past and present, both memory and possibility, without betraying either.

We reached my building as the last light faded.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For telling me. Even if I'm not ready to believe all of it.”

“You will.” His certainty should have felt presumptuous but instead felt like promise. “When you're ready. When the memories finish surfacing.”

As I watched him walk away, I touched my wedding ring – a gesture that had become habit. But for the first time, it felt less like an anchor holding me in grief and more like a reminder that love, like time itself, wasn't always linear.

Tomorrow would bring more questions, more half-remembered truths, more moments that felt both strange and familiar. But for now, the night air held possibility rather than just memory.

For now, that was enough.

CHAPTER 18

New Places

The exhibition invitation felt impossibly heavy in my hand as I waited outside Eli's building. I'd faced him across battlefields, watched him create masterpieces in Renaissance studios, heard him play jazz in smoky Paris clubs. But somehow this moment felt more crucial than any that had come before.

When he opened the door, hair slightly mussed from what was clearly a much-needed nap, my carefully prepared speech vanished. He looked softer somehow, more vulnerable in worn sweats and an oversized shirt.

“Alex?” His surprise held no rejection, just genuine confusion. “What are you doing here? Didn't we just spend the whole day together?”

“I know, I'm sorry to just show up, but...” I shifted, feeling strangely nervous. In centuries of knowing him, this part never got easier. “I wanted to ask you something. In person.”

He studied me for a moment, then stepped back. “Come in. I was just making tea.”

His apartment felt different in evening light - less a shrine to grief and more a space beginning to breathe again. Medicaljournals mixed with architectural magazines on the coffee table. A half-finished painting stood on an easel by the window.

That made Alex smile since he knew that, despite everything, the artist in Eli hadn’t been lost. Maybe it had been buried—drowned beneath exhaustion and duty—but it was still there, resurfacing in slow, careful strokes of color. A quiet kind of healing.

“There's an exhibition opening at the Morgan,” I said, watching his movements in the kitchen. “Contemporary architects reimagining historical spaces. Innovative preservation techniques, adaptive reuse...”

His hands stilled on the kettle. “Sounds like something Michael would have loved.”

“Yes,” I agreed quietly. “It is. That's part of why I wanted to ask you properly.”

He turned, something cautious in his expression. “Ask me what?”

“To go with me.” I met his eyes steadily. “As a date.”

The word hung between us, weighted with possibility and fear. I watched emotions flicker across his face - recognition, interest, guilt, uncertainty.

“I know it's complicated,” I continued before he could speak. “I know you're still processing everything I told you about our past. But this isn't about that. This is about now. About who you are in this life, all parts of you.”

“Alex...” His voice held warning, but not rejection.

“You don't have to answer right away,” I offered. “The exhibition runs for months. I just... I wanted you to know that I understand what I'm asking. What it means.”

His fingers went to his wedding ring - not twisting it anxiously like he used to, just touching it thoughtfully. “I'm not ready to take it off.”

“I would never ask you to.” I stayed where I was, giving him physical space to process. “Some loves don't need to end for newones to begin. Some hearts are big enough for both memory and possibility.”

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