Chapter 42
Elowen
Hey love,
It’s been a week since I returned to Pa’s house. As I’ve said a thousand times before—I love this place. This house and its land were built to be cherished in every season, every part of the day. When we get married, we’ll build something like this for ourselves.
Tomorrow, Ma and Pa leave for their annual trip to Norway, for their favorite meteor shower. Grandpa Matthew and Grandma Flora are going too.
I’m thinking of joining them. They won’t mind, I’m sure of it. And I could really use the fresh air.
I haven’t told them yet. I’ll just show up tomorrow morning with my bags packed, right in their faces.
And now I’m daydreaming about you meeting me there. We could secretly watch the meteor shower together. A lot of sneaky make-outs would definitely be the best part.
I miss you.
Your Elowen
I close the journal, slide it back into the drawer, and take out the golden box.
Ma gave it to me when I told her I wanted somewhere safe to keep something precious.
It’s made of some kind of strong metal, plated in thick, beautiful gold, with delicate floral carvings.
I lift the small lid on its side and enter the code on the tiny lock.
The box opens silently, smoothly, on its own.
Inside, nestled in blue velvet, are three dried roses.
I trace the petals with reverence and longing.
It feels like a lifetime since I last touched him. Since I last heard his voice. The longing has become an ache—I feel in every part of me, in every breath I take.
I close the box, rise, and step out onto the balcony. The night air is cool against my skin.
I look up at the sky, vast and filled with stars.
“When will you come, Salvario?” I whisper to the stars.
I’m stuck in a time worse than when people communicated by pigeons. Those pigeons don’t exist anymore, and the devices that replaced them, that were supposed to bring convenience, have become my greatest enemy.
How long must I carry this ache? When will it get better? And how?
I take a deep breath, trying to fill my tight chest.
I walk back inside, grab my small keyboard, and carry it out to the balcony.
I settle onto the chair and begin to play. It’s the only way I know to pour out these suffocating feelings.
I start with a slow beat, letting it pulse in my heart, eyes closed. Slowly, the music leads me down the beautiful path of memories.
Memories of his touch. His eyes. His skin against mine. Memories of our love.
The ache tightens around my ribs. The composition carries it out—a melody of my incomplete love.
I let the music soothe me with a promise. A promise of happiness. A promise that this story will find its ending. A promise of forever in my lover’s arms.
I end on a hopeful note and open my eyes.
The silence of the night rushes in to fill the space my music left behind. I lean back and look out at the farmland stretching before me, vast and dark. Moonlight sketches the shapes of crops and trees, rendering the whole scene hauntingly beautiful.
A rustle of leaves pulls me from my daze. I rise, cross to the railing, and grip it, peering down into the darkness below.
It’s dark there. What happened to the light? I make a mental note to tell Pa tomorrow.
I step back inside, Rosie at my heels. I leave the balcony door open and turn off the room temperature regulator.
I lie down on the bed, and Rosie climbs up beside me. I hug her, kissing her face.
“Good night, baby.”
She burrows closer, tucking herself against me.
I wake to the sound of Rosie’s barks. Half-asleep, I turn onto my back and look around. The moment my eyes land on the shadow standing in my room, I sit up, jumping out of my skin.
There’s a man in my room. Rosie is jumping around him, tail wagging.
It takes only a heartbeat for the shock to shatter. And then I’m off the bed, running straight to the tall, broad man standing inside my room.
He crushes me against him, lifting me, inhaling against my neck. I wrap my legs around his waist.
“You shouldn’t run into the arms of a man who broke into your room in the middle of the night, Princess.” His voice is a low rumble against my neck.
I pull back just enough to capture his lip and kiss him like a woman possessed. God, I missed him. He kisses me back with the same desperate hunger. It’s barely a kiss, we’re devouring each other.
My hands roam everywhere—his hair, the nape of his neck, his shoulders, his back. I want to touch every part of him, all at once. I cling tighter, terrified he’ll disappear again. Vanish for another three months.
He carries us to the bed and lowers us down, settling me on his lap.
I break the kiss, breathless, but keep my mouth a breath from his. He’s panting just as hard.
“I missed you so much.” My voice is thick with unsaid emotions, choking my throat.
He kisses me again. One hand cradles the back of my head, tilting my face for deeper access. The other bands around my waist, gripping tight. Our lower bodies press together in a pressure that’s almost painful, but still not enough. I want to be closer. I need him like air. More than air.
Salvario
She is everywhere. Once more, she has consumed me.
She’s in my arms. The only thing I can feel is her skin on mine, her mouth on mine. Her scent of roses fills my lungs. She is the only thought in my head, the only beat left in my heart. Every drop of my blood chants her name.
Elowen. The first ray of light. The woman that brings me back to life.
And she doesn’t hate me. She didn’t stop loving me.
I can live—she still loves me.
I tear myself from her lips, gasping for air.
“Tell me you love me,” I whisper, the plea barely escaping my lips.
She chuckles, breathless. “I love you.”
I find her eyes in the dark. “Again.”
“I love you.” She says it with the smile that is my entire fucking world.
“More.” I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in.
“I love you, Salvario De Falco.”
I crush my mouth to hers again. I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. I’m fucking possessed by her.
She’s finally in my arms, speaking the words my soul has been starving for.
I lay her back on the bed and cover her body with mine.
She unbuckles my belt urgently, unbuttons my pants while I pull off her shorts. She fumbles with the buttons of my shirt. It takes me no time to strip her T-shirt away, freeing her beautiful breasts for my mouth and hands.
I take her nipple into my mouth, sucking hard, while kicking free of my pants and boxers. I kiss my way up her breasts, along her throat, over the curve of her neck, positioning myself at her entrance. I pull back just enough to watch her face as I push inside.
She’s tight. Just like the first time. She winces as I sink deeper, but despite the pain, she lifts into me, taking more. I pull my shirt off while her body adjusts to the fullness of me.
Then I withdraw. And thrust back into her.
After a few strokes, her expression shifts from discomfort to the raw hunger of arousal. I don’t hold back anymore. I drive into her harder, faster. Her eyes roll back. She bites her lower lip to muffle the sounds I’m pulling from her.
I quicken the pace and crush my mouth to hers, freeing her lip, only to catch it between my teeth.
She digs her nails into my back, pulling me deeper, arching to meet every thrust.
My mouth fills with her moans. We cling to each other, hold on tight, and come together.