Page 29 of Forever Midnight

“Breathe,” Yves whispers.

I take several breaths until the world stops spinning around me. Squeezing Yves’s hand, I nod, indicating I’m okay. Bowie appears with a much-needed glass of blood. I guzzle it, exhaling as it spreads through me.

“Thank you,” I manage, handing Bowie the empty glass. “I can barely believe my own experience, but Tru just sat down and played at the piano. He played ‘Lovers Lost.’”

Both Yves and Syn gasp.

“What does that mean?” Bowie asks.

“It’s a song,” I say, even as my voice trembles. “A song written by my one true love. His name was Benedict.”

Pain sears through my chest simply from uttering the name I’ve refused to speak for decades. Centuries. I rub my forehead and push on.

“It’s impossible that anyone else knows that song. Even more alarming is that Tru says he’s never played the piano. He felt drawn to it. He said it was like his fingers knew the song.”

“All the gods,” Yves whispers, his eyes wide.

“Where is he now?” Syn asks.

“I compelled him. He was panicking and I had no answers, so I put him to sleep.”

The four of us are silent for a minute until Yves speaks up. “There has to be meaning to it. Tru has some sort of connection to Benedict.”

“How?” I ask. Rising from the sofa, I pace in front of the coffee table. “I have looked for a million signs in a million lovers that somehow Benedict would return to me, but it’s never been true. Not once. I knew I was deluding myself. So how can it be that this person, this man, just did what he did?”

“I think it means you weren’t deluding yourself,” Bowie says softly. “You looked for signs because some part of you knew it could happen one day. Seems like it has.”

I stare at Bowie, my mouth agape while my mind tries to process all of this.

“Do you think the piano could be haunted?” Bowie asks. “Like, I don’t know, Benedict’s memory is still embedded in the keys?”

“Haunted?” I say.

“Stranger things have happened. Around here, at least,” Bowie says.

“Bowie makes an interesting point,” Yves says. “The piano did belong to Benedict.”

“But why now after all this time?” I ask.

“Has anyone else ever played it?” Syn asks. “You won’t allow us to even sit at it.”

Blowing out a breath, I shake my head. “He didn’t ask. He just went to it.”

“Like he was called to it?” Bowie asks, smiling. “Maybe it’s just time.”

Some part of me, buried deep inside, springs to life with hope, but I shove it down again. Benedict haunting his piano sounds about as plausible as me becoming a vegetarian.

“Your pain causes your doubt,” Yves says, clearly aware of my thoughts. “My advice would be to stay open to it. Explore it. Don’t push away the signs, but lean into them. Perhaps Benedict is blessing your discovery of Tru. What a joy that would be, Midnight. It’s a new day. You could try again.”

My chest tightens with panic. I shake my head, already filled with a thousand reasons why it can’t work this time either.

“Even if somehow it were true, we might be doomed to repeat the same tragedy. Tru already confessed he’s not out to his parents. Their standing in society prevents it. It’s the same shit all over again.”

“Except it’s not,” Syn says. “That was nearly two hundred and fifty years ago, Midnight. It is not outlawed for two men to love each other. The modern world embraces us. Trust in your connection that this time fate brought you together for a reason.”

“But how do I know? How can I be sure Tru won’t reject me once he knows what I am?”

“Obviously, I wasn’t there back when you were with Benedict,” Bowie says. “But after meeting Syn, I believe that the person made for you will understand and even accept it. If you’d asked me a few months ago if this would be my life, well…” He laughs. “All I’m saying is that I believe in destiny now. I believe in the impossible being true. I believe in timing. Maybe the timing wasn’t right for you and Benedict before, but it can be for you and Tru now.”

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