9. Summer
Chapter Nine
Summer
I go to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine, and Uriel follows me. His shoulders are still slumped, pulled down by his grief, but he seems a fraction lighter. So do I, somehow.
“Farrah hasn’t been eating either,” he says, sitting at the table beneath the window, the sun beating in, warming the whole room.
I glance at him as the coffee machine sputters into action.
“We’re all struggling in our own way,” he continues, thinking about his wife and his sons, all broken differently. I wonder if it compounds, or in some weird way, smothers his own devastation.
I look back at the coffeepot, watching the dark brown liquid drip into the carafe.
“You’re not in this alone, kiddo.” The pet name makes me feel somber for a whole other reason, evoking a sense of mourning for a family I never really had but desperately wanted.
We sit in the thick silence as I gather cream and sugar.
Once the pot is full of the fragrant brew, I carry it along with two mugs to the table.
I pour for us both before sitting across from him.
I wrap my hands around my cup, enjoying the warmth that seeps into my fingers.
It seems that I’m always cold nowadays, probably thanks to all the weight I’ve lost.
“I know it might feel like you’re alone,” he continues. “But you’re not.” Uriel adds some creamer to his coffee, turning it a light golden color. “Rafe is angry with everyone. Himself most of all.”
Why would he be angry with himself? He had no part in any of it.
Perhaps Uriel is unaware of the lingering anger that seems to radiate constantly from Rafe.
No doubt it’s now unavoidably amped-up thanks to the death of not only his brother but his best friend.
Rafe must be angry at me too. Something within me twinges.
I miss all the Morningstars, Connor most of all.
But just after, I miss Rafe and the easy camaraderie we shared.
But it would be stupid and futile to hope he would not blame me.
I am the reason he’s even more alone. I am the reason his person was taken from him.
“Your brothers miss you.”
His words take me off guard, and my gaze locks with his. My brothers?
“My b-brothers?” I ask brokenly, I don’t want to misunderstand him, but who else could he mean? For whatever reason, my body is still locked into fight-or-flight mode, just waiting and ready to retreat when Uriel snaps at me.
He nods. “You should come to Eden this weekend.” I can hear the soft lilt of hopefulness in his voice.
I frown, trying to understand why he would want that. “Really?” I ask, with more expression in my voice than there has been in a very long time.
“Yes, kiddo. Home is always waiting.”
I look down at my coffee. “What about Alice?” I ask.
Vampires are not permitted in the realm of Eden due to their predatory nature.
It is an outdated and prejudiced view, yet it is one that remains steadfast in their laws.
There has been one exception in history, and it was this past summer, when Alice was granted entry to attend Connor’s funeral.
It had required a lot of negotiation and many long, drawn-out meetings with the Eden delegates, none of which I was a part of in my catatonic state.
But I remember hearing Alice’s raised voice as she fought to remain at my side and say goodbye to Connor.
She must have pulled hard on her lineage and her royal training.
Eventually they reached an agreement. She’d had to sign a contract and leave as soon as the sun set.
I have no idea what was in the contract, but Alice and I left the second the funeral ended.
I could not stay and be there to have to face his family after standing with them as we said our final goodbyes.
“She’ll be okay for the weekend,” he says, and he’s right. Even the few hours away from me when she goes to class have helped her tremendously.
I try to think of any other excuse, but I can’t. All I know is that I am desperate for Uriel to stay. I don’t want to lose the comfort of his presence. “What if I came with you now?” I ask before I’ve really considered it.
He nods, studying me. “Can you call Alice? ”
I shake my head. She’s in class, and if I call, she’ll just come home.
“A note, then? And you can include my number so she can call when she gets home.”
I nod and stand up to grab a notepad and pen. Sitting back down, I start writing.
Al,
Uriel came to see me. I’m going to go to Eden for a couple of days. I think it might help me a little. Please don’t worry about me. Enjoy the space.
~S
I push the notepad to the center of the table where I know she will see it, and look at Uriel. He smiles warmly and says, “Why don’t you go pack and we can head out?”
I shift nervously, suddenly afraid to let him out of my sight. “You will stay?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Pain and sorrow flare in Uriel’s eyes, followed quickly by warm assurance. “Of course, Summer. I will not leave without you. We are going home together.”
I nod and hurry upstairs to pack, carelessly shoving clothes and toiletries into a bag. It doesn’t really matter what I have. I just want to be somewhere else, and everything inside me is telling me to go with Uriel. And if we get to Eden and they all turn on me?.?.?. good.
When I walk back downstairs, Uriel is just finishing writing his number on the note for Alice. He smiles at me, and even though it doesn’t reach his eyes, I can see that he is relieved that I am going with him. I don’t understand it, but it warms something within me.
“Ready?” he asks, holding his hand out. I nod and place my hand in his. We walk through the living room, and my eyes catch on the flowers on the coffee table, as they do each time I pass through. Pain slips through me, and I swear the halo on my wrist hums softly.
Outside, Uriel somehow juggles my bag and effortlessly swings me into his arms. “Hold on, kiddo,” he says before launching into the sky.
Just like his sons, he flies fearlessly.
The trust in his wings and his abilities is inspirational.
His boys are the same, even Rafe. The few times I’ve seen Rafe fly, he’s been so at ease.
His wings may not be white and cared for like his brothers’, but he soars through the sky effortlessly.
Uriel holds me in his arms, and I feel safe. Not as safe as when I was in Connor’s arms, but paternal affection radiates from him. Or I’m guessing that’s what it is. I’ve never felt it before.
Uriel moves a little faster than his sons, probably thanks to centuries of training, and I just watch his wings as we fly.
They are gilded, incredibly beautiful, and as mesmerizing as Connor’s.
My heart squeezes with the memory of running my fingers through his feathers and hearing him purr in contentment.
“I didn’t warn your mom, so we gotta move fast before she faints.” I can barely hear his words over the roar of the wind. Did he say mom ? Surely not. Uriel may be happy to see me, but Farrah hates me. She has to, yet even knowing that, I can’t wait to see her.
Neither of us says anything else, and I close my eyes and allow myself to sink into the security of his hold as we fly through the sky.
His landing is gentle and clean, and I look up as he sets me carefully on my feet.
I am a little surprised to see the elevator.
I know Uriel can land directly at the house, but he clearly wants to give me a little more time.
Or perhaps he is trying to give Farrah a bit of notice that someone has arrived, so she doesn’t faint.
We step into the elevator, and I focus on steadying my breathing as the doors close.
The memories this small space holds are jagged, slicing at me and leaving thousands of tiny cuts on my soul.
I didn’t visit the house when we came for the funeral.
I couldn’t. The last time I was in this elevator, I was with Connor.
I remember the tension as Luke fumed about leaving his mother.
My heart speeds up in my chest as the elevator stops.
The doors open, and everything comes to a complete stop.
The house looks exactly the same, and ?part of me is surprised.
I’m not sure what I expected. I think I was prepared for it to echo with the same emptiness that filled Morningstar House on campus.
Yet it doesn’t. I can still feel love radiating from within the home.
The Morningstar charm remains even after their loss.
The love imbued within the family endures, emanating like sunlight through a kaleidoscope, fractured but still warm and inviting.
“Welcome home, kiddo,” Uriel says, his gaze pressing against my profile as he lifts my bag higher on his shoulder.
Nausea churns in my stomach, and I tug nervously on the sleeve of my sweater. Farrah is in there. The warmest, most beautiful soul I’ve ever known is in there. Can I take it if she hates me? Can I take her despair?
Uriel slides his hand into mine and lifts it, letting my sleeve fall back to reveal Connor’s halo wrapped snugly around my wrist. It glints brightly in the pure, warm light of the sun. He taps his halo against mine, and they hum, resonating with each other.
“Family,” he says, and I meet his sky-blue gaze.
My eyes sting, but in my periphery, I note movement coming from the house.
My gaze swings toward it, and I see Farrah Morningstar watching me.
Her dark brown eyes are fixed on me, pinning me in place.
I can tell she is surprised to see me, and her eyes shift to Uriel for a moment, a question in them.
I’ve seen them do this often, communicating in a way that can only be achieved by being with someone for so long that you know their every thought and expression.
She looks back at me, and a tear finally escapes. The small drop of moisture tracking down my cheek is filled with so many emotions that not even I can identify all of them.
Please don’t hate me. I want to scream it. I want so desperately for it to be the truth, but she’s giving nothing away.
“Your mom is waiting to hug you, Summer,” Uriel says, releasing my hand.
I see Farrah’s face crumble and her shoulders hitch with a sob, her beautiful eyes swimming with tears. Suddenly, the space between us feels too great. I glance up at Uriel, unsure.
“Go on,” he says, his eyes bouncing between Farrah and me.
Farrah sobs out my name, the word coated in maternal anguish and loss, but founded in the purest love and hope.
I whimper and launch into a run as she jumps off the porch and sprints toward me.
The ground is swallowed between us, and I am suddenly wrapped in the warmest hug? I’ve ever experienced.
I can already feel myself breaking in a whole new way, and I cling to her.
She strokes my hair as she holds me close, holding me as if she will allow nothing in the world to separate us, holding me as only a mother could.
“Welcome home, Summer,” she whispers brokenly.
Uriel wraps his strong arms around both of us and presses a kiss to the top of Farrah’s head.
I’m not sure how long we stand like that, crying and hugging, but eventually Farrah pulls back.
She braces her hands on my arms and looks me over, concern growing in her eyes.
“My Summer.” She pulls me back in and kisses my head. “My girl is home.”
“Our girl,” Uriel corrects, kissing Farrah’s head again.
This time, when Farrah pulls back, I notice the twins watching us from the porch. Exhaustion lines their faces and shadows their eyes, but they still look better than Farrah and Uriel. I know it is because Farrah and Uriel have cared for their sons above all else, even through their own grief.
“She wanted to come home to see her mom and her brothers,” Uriel says, answering a question that no one asked. He looks at Zach and Zane. “Boys, will you set the table? Your sister is staying for a while.”
Zane nods and immediately heads inside, but Zach lingers. “She’ll need to go see him first. Or he won’t come down to dinner.”
I look at Farrah and Uriel, and I can see the weight of an added burden settle on them. There is only one person he could be talking about. “Rafe?” I ask, my voice shaky.
“He’s upstairs,” Zach replies before following his brother inside to set up.
Uriel wraps an arm around my shoulder, and Farrah slips hers around my waist, walking beside me back to the house.
We step inside, and the scent of family surrounds me.
It never smelled exactly like Morningstar House, but there were definite similarities, and somehow this house always felt so much more like home.
The decor reminds me of Morningstar House, and I didn’t realize how much I ached for it.
“Will you talk to him?” Uriel asks. I glance at him, noting the weight of the grief piled on his shoulders.
It is not all his own. He has absorbed all he can from his family, trying to ease their pain, and now he bears it willingly.
I nod, because of course I will. Rafe and I are similar in a strange way, and I want to see him.
I want to be in the presence of someone who also feels they don’t belong in this perfect family, yet is so loved by them anyway.
I look at the photographs lining the walls as I walk up the stairs.
So many of them feature Connor, and my heart shatters every time I lock eyes with him.
I miss him so completely, and I am desperate to feel close to him, to not miss him for even one second.
But while I do feel closer to him here, I don’t think I’ve ever missed him more.