Page 43 of One Last Touch

“I’m still here.”

His shoulders appeared beneath my arms. “I know. I want to remember you just like this—in my arms, content.” I smiled and he continued. “I’m going to miss your smile and the way you smell and the way you look at me.”

“How do I look at you?” I teased, pressing a kiss to the air above his cheek.

“Like there is nothing more real to you in the world.”

My heart thudded hard and I bit my lip. “Sage—”

“Don’t.” His smile seemed flimsy, like it had taken everything inside of him to prop it up. “Don’t say it like a goodbye.”

“How about as a promise?” I whispered and his lips parted. “Because I promise to love you, always.”

“Always is a very long time.”

“Oh, you’re right.” His eyes lit up when I laughed and then smirked. “I hadn’t realised.”

“I love you too.” This time, when his eyes dropped to my mouth I didn’t protest, I didn’t stop him. I just waited, my breath caught in my throat as his lips covered mine. It was a slow kiss, a promise of forever and the hopelessness of goodbye, but I didn’t let it stay that way.

I kissed him with all the heartache I possessed, and all of the strength too. Rising up onto my tiptoes I slid my hand down over his shoulders to where his heart was silent between us and pushed a small bout of energy into him. Enough to bolster him, but not so much that he would suspect or feel it.

Sage kissed me thoroughly, like I was a delicacy he wanted to both savour and devour, and I wasn’t ready to let him go.

Not one bit.

I left him with a final kiss, one last touch, before I took a step back, cutting off the flow of energy. He blinked like he’d felt something and I tried to hide my dizziness as I sat back into my desk chair, flushing when I remembered him sitting in it, looking at me in much the same way he was now—like I was something to be cherished.

He didn’t say anything else and I didn’t blame him, what were words in the face of emotion? Of the desperation we clearly both felt but could do nothing about?

I wandered downstairs a little while later, deciding to sit and actually eat breakfast for once, scooping a handful of blueberries onto my cereal and chewing thoughtfully as I watched the garden through the kitchen window.

This place had felt empty when I’d arrived and slowly but surely it felt like life had returned to Alswell. The gates were still rusty and the ghosts were still very much present, but the sunlight didn’t avoid the grass or flinch when it came through the windows. The dust motes still curled through every room but they no longer hung oppressively in the air, smothering you as you breathed. What had changed most was the feel of the place. It was not quite free of the horrors that plagued its past. Not yet. But soon, if everything went according to plan.

“You’re up!” Ms Weathers hurried into the room and I smiled. She was forever hurrying somewhere and it never failed to amuse me—what could you be late for when you were dead? “Are you all packed?”

“I’ve got everything I need.”

“Oh good. Another tea?”

I nodded, surprised when she expended a little energy to flick on the kettle and grab me a cup. When she reached for the leaves, she hesitated.

“Are you going to tell him?”

My breath rattled and I coughed as I tugged uneasily on my earring, glancing up at the ceiling as the berries started to take effect. “I don’t know what you mean.”

She nodded slowly. “Well, the choice is yours. It’s not too late.”

But it was, so I said nothing and let her set the tea in front of me. Understanding now, why she’d felt the need to do so. Gratitude wasn’t necessary but it made me feel a little better as I steadied my hand and sipped the tea. “Thank you.”

“Your mother would be proud.”

“I hope so.”

* * *

The afternoon passed slowly and I did my best to avoid Sage, lingering in the attic and looking through a photo album I’d found. When four o’clock came and went, I wondered how long it would take Sage to come looking for me. I’d had so much tea it felt like my bladder was going to burst at any given moment but as I walked to the fridge I felt calm, even as I swayed.

I grabbed the berries and then headed to the sitting room, feeling like it was fitting that he should be called back there at last. Ms Weathers walked in and sat on the couch opposite me, looking for all the world like we were about to have a family meeting other than the worry on her face. “He’s coming.”

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