Chapter 2
Chapter Two
A laric
The next day, Alaric sat in his SUV in the parking lot of Sunny Acres, willing himself to go inside. It was getting harder and harder to visit Sammy. At eighty-five, she was more bedridden than not because of rheumatoid arthritis, and over the last few months, she’d seemed to be fading fast. In his mind, she was still the bright, colorful co-ed who’d waltzed up to him in a diner, plopped down in the seat, and offered to spike his coffee with whiskey. The woman who never failed to make him laugh with her snarky wit and penchant for long flowing skirts before the sixties made them popular. Sammy had lived life her own way with a big fuck you to anyone who told her she should be less different. Less flamboyant.
He’d once watched her dance at the top of a cliff under the stars, with not one ounce of fear she’d misstep and fall over the side.
And as a confidante, she’d excelled. She knew exactly what he was and had never cared. Had in fact been fascinated by the unseen world around her, begging him to always point out preternaturals even though she couldn’t see past their glamours.
And now, she lay in a bed, barely able to move. That sharp mind had slowed, and it broke his fucking heart every time he saw her. She’d lived a long, happy life, outlived her entire family. She had only him now. And despite how hard it was to see her like that, he was still happy to sit in her presence. Happy that she still lived, because he was going to miss his best friend when her light finally faded.
That thought jarred him into action. He got out and swiftly walked inside, giving a nod to the receptionist, who waved. They were used to him here because he came every week without fail. Often more than once a week. He’d even grown accustomed to the fake floral scent—which was noxiously repellent to elves—they piped into the place, though it barely made a dent in the more hospital-like smells. He passed a giggling elderly couple, holding hands as they walked, and nodded to one of his favorite nurses.
Sammy was sitting up, awake, when he entered the room, and her smile lit up the room he’d done his best to make comfortable for her. He’d hung up her favorite pictures of places they’d been, including one of her dancing on that clifftop. Flowers decorated every available space—all brought by him—and he added a new bouquet of daisies to the mix now, replacing some that were nearly dead.
“Alaric! I knew you’d be coming to see me today.” Her voice was thready and weak, sending a pang of heavy emotion to weigh down his heart. “Jude brought me a pretty new ribbon for my hair today—what do you think?”
He smiled at the bright purple ribbon holding back her long snow-white hair. “I’ll have to thank him before I go.”
“I did enough for both of us. Always did love a nice, silky ribbon. Reminds me of a woman I dated in the seventies. Remember Josie? She was a bit too uptight for the long term, but she sure knew what to do with a yard of silk the few times she really loosened up.” Her eyes went misty with memories.
“I remember Josie,” he said softly as he settled into the chair next to her adjustable bed. “You look well today. It’s good to see you.”
“Today is a good day.” She winked. “They gave me the good stuff this morning. Almost felt like I could dance again.”
He chuckled, though he hated that she pretty much lived on pain meds now. He’d do what he could to take away as much of her pain as possible while he was here.
Sammy clapped her hands. “Tell me about your last adventure.”
He did just that, not skimping on any of the details of his fight with the wizards the night before. She knew Finn, who sometimes came along on his visits, but he made sure to paint a vivid picture of the rest of the surroundings.
Worry creased her face. “Is Finn okay? Did you heal him? Those thighs of his are a national treasure and should be preserved for posterity.”
“Since when do you care about men’s thighs?” Alaric smirked at her.
“I have eyes. Besides, I’m used to judging men’s deliciousness on your behalf.” She shifted slightly, winced in pain, then schooled her face quickly. “So did you heal him?”
“Of course I did. He’s a good friend.”
“A best kind of one.”
He gave her a smile. “You’re my best friend.”
“People can have more than one, and I like that you have him. But Alaric…” She paused and smoothed her hands down the blanket over her lap. “You still don’t let him in. Not the way you have me. I worry so much.”
He frowned. “What are you worrying about?”
She stared at him for a few moments. “You keep yourself too alone. I’m not going to be here much longer, and I need to know that you won’t stay alone. Who are you going to have when I’m gone? I know you have a big, wonderful family, but having that one person just for you is just as important. It’s something I never had, and I regret that.” She paused and took a shaky breath. “I’m talking about love. Real love.”
Her words were a punch to his gut, because they both knew they were true—and that she was only still holding on to this realm for him. They’d been best friends for sixty-five years. Never lovers, but closer than family. And now, here they were at the end of her life when in his world, he was still considered young at one hundred and thirty years. His parents had warned him about his close bond to a human, and he often told himself he should have heeded their warning.
But then he wouldn’t have had her in his life, and he’d rather have those sixty-five years of incredible friendship over a lifetime of loneliness. Something he now faced.
Because this time, he knew better than to let himself get this close to another human.
His heart would be protected against love from now on. But he wouldn’t be telling Sammy that. It would break her own.
He did what he could for her pain, then sat with her for hours, relishing every moment they had left. He stayed until her eyes drooped closed. Tucking her in, he studied her wrinkled face before glancing around at all the images of them over the years. There were even pictures of his family members peppering the walls because despite their warning, they’d taken her in and couldn’t help loving her, too. He needed to text their family chat and let them all know they needed to come see her soon. He could sense her life-force, and it was nearly gone.
It was still bright. Still beautiful. But now only a thin, shimmering thread, as delicate as spider silk, connected her to this world. And soon…it would break.