Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
Cleo
Athick sheet of sparkling snow covers the ground surrounding where we land.
On either side of us lies a line of frosted trees, leading us down a moonlit path.
I sniff the air and catch a whiff of pine and something unmistakably earthy.
I gaze up at the sky, seeing a cluster of dark clouds rolling in over us, threatening to envelop our only means of light.
The only light out here is granted from the moon itself.
“Holy shit. Did we land in Narnia?” Kai chimes while taking in the snow, chuckling.
I smile gently, continuing to trek down the narrow, well-kept path when I suddenly feel something wet collide with my forehead.
The cool droplet streams down my cheek. I raise my hand to my cheek, and my lips part as I exhale a long sigh of relief.
Nearly five decades have passed.
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
I could’ve never anticipated this surge of emotion from a mere drop of rain. “It’s been a while since my last rainstorm,” he whispers.
You have no idea.
“Oh, I don’t?” He raises an eyebrow. “Tell me more.”
I sigh, looking up at the sky and rolling my eyes. My mental shields have been seriously lacking since this man walked into my life.
“It’s been decades since I’ve felt a drop of rain,” I admit quietly as we continue walking, light rain falling more steadily with each step we take. “I’ve always enjoyed rainy weather more than blue skies and sunshine. Something about a light rain on a cloudy day soothes my soul.”
“You prefer rain over sunshine? No.” His eyes widen while his jaw drops—dramatically, I might add. “Never would’ve guessed.”
I simply nod my head. I squint my eyes and see an even narrower path veering off the current path we’re on. I’m willing to bet that path leads to the cabins.
I remember this park as if it were yesterday. Gulping, I opt to distract myself and run my hand over my face again, feeling a hint of excitement at how wet my cheeks are. I close my eyes and bite back a soft grin, then notice him staring at me. I stop in my tracks.
“You’re staring,” I accuse. He smirks before taking a step into my bubble and tucking a lock of damp hair behind my ear. He’s getting quite good at that.
“How could I not?” he murmurs, his hazel eyes drifting over me before locking onto mine.
Warmth spreads across my cheeks. Little does he know, I can hardly stop staring at him myself. Not that I can share that.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” He grins, taking my hand in his and moving forward. “I know you like the rain and all, but as a sunshine lover myself, I’d prefer to settle somewhere dry for the night.”
I incline my head toward the alternate path. “There. Let’s take that path.”
“Lead the way.”
I walk in front of him down the new path entirely engulfed in trees. After only a moment, we make it to a clearing with two lake houses.
Interesting—it appears the cabins were renovated. They’re so much larger than I remember. Chills spread across my arms as my mind threatens to unravel moments I’d prefer not to relive. I tighten my free hand into a fist.
Now is simply not the time. I need to concentrate.
Getting Kai back to the Middle Realm is my top priority.
That initiative needs to be at the forefront of my mind.
Not my memories.
He squeezes my hand reassuringly, catching me off guard. I must be squeezing his hand hard, given how tight my fist is. How embarrassing.
I curse myself and then cross my fingers that at least one of these cabins is unoccupied. If not, we’re teleporting back to the city immediately.
We quietly approach the one nearest to us and see lights on inside. I peer into the large front window and see four people sitting around a wooden table, playing card games. Two adults and two children. A family.
The youngest—who can’t be older than five—is cracking up, banging his hand against the table’s carved surface. He keeps glancing at his older sister and shaking his head. She’s covering her mouth and laughing, too, while their parents wear confused expressions. The joke is clearly about them.
There’s a softness in the father’s gaze that strikes me. Although he isn’t in on the joke, he’s grinning from ear to ear, watching his children with a tenderness I haven’t seen in a long, long time.
I wipe my eye before a single tear can escape and turn around abruptly, stalking past this home to the next one. Kai can hardly keep up, but I don’t care. As I inch closer to the next one, I clench my jaw.
Please be empty. Please be empty. Please be empty.
This lake house is slightly smaller than the other, but it’s closer to the water. When I was little, lake days were my favorite days. We’d spend all day on the water, chasing dragonflies and frogs and eating sandwiches and cookies. Playing hide-and-seek in the forest surrounding us.
My family and I thrived during those little getaways. It’s when I felt closest to them. The lake brought us together year after year, making our family bond so strong it felt tangible. Given our stubborn natures, it was one of the only things we all connected on.
All the lights in this one are off, and I don’t see a car in the gravel driveway, meaning it’s presumably unoccupied. Reaching the top of the wooden stairs and stepping onto the wraparound porch, I brace myself and turn to hold him before teleporting inside the home.
I take in my surroundings as he begins exploring.
He heads upstairs almost immediately and gasps, exclaiming about how nice the loft is.
A small kitchen and dining area are to my right, featuring a rectangular wooden table and benches on either side.
To my left lies the living room, including two brown sofas, a television, and a coffee table.
Straight ahead is a staircase that used to lead to bedrooms. I glance up and see that it’s changed.
As he mentioned, it’s a loft now. How modern.
Although the home looks different, the energy is familiar, even after all these years.
In fact, a lot of the wooden beams here look like the original wood. If I walk outside and peer closer at the wooden floorboards, I’ll find the name ‘Graves’ carved in one of the planks.
I lost my first tooth in the living room.
My brother took his first steps right next to the dining table.
My sister learned how to ride a bike here.
My mom and I baked homemade bread using that kitchen counter countless times.
My dad taught me how to swim in the lake outside.
This was our family’s vacation cabin for years. My home away from home.
And for some unknown, objectively idiotic reason, I thought I could handle staying the night here with him. It’s been so long since I last thought about this place that I assumed I had moved on. I thought wrong.
Foolish. I should’ve known I’d never be strong enough, even to face something minuscule like this.
Coward.
My strength isn’t real. It’s a facade. Just like the relationship I’m building with the angel upstairs. How could he care for someone like me?
I gaze down at the original warm oak wooden flooring.
At first, the memories fall gently like rain. I catch myself nearly smiling at the innocence in them.
Then, without warning, the memories begin crashing against me harder, hitting me like a riptide; they pull me under and drown me without reprieve.
Coward.
Suddenly, I’m crashing to the floor, squeezing my eyes shut and trembling.
I can’t let him see me like this. He’ll leave again.
“Cleo, you’ve got to see—” His voice cuts off. Before I can even turn my head in his direction, he’s on the floor with me, kneeling before me, grasping my shoulders with both hands. I keep my eyes sealed shut.
I can’t believe this.
I’ve never cried in front of anyone outside my family. Ever. What horrible timing.
I’ve cried a handful of times, and a majority of those times, I was utterly alone.
“Baby, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here. I’m with you.”
As he’s stroking my cheeks delicately, it hits me.
I’m not alone anymore.
But as much as I want to believe him, my mind won’t stop chanting: this isn’t real.
“Kai, I’m f-fine. Seriously.” I shrug him off and open my eyes, making sure to look into his eyes despite the burning sensation. I work hard to control my trembling. Instead of releasing my shoulders like I expect, he pulls me into him, cradling me in his arms.
“You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m not letting go of you, little angel.” His voice rumbles as he runs his hand through my damp hair, pulling my head deeper into his chest. “Unless you want me to.”
I can’t make sense of much right now, but he’s warm. So warm.
“Stay,” I whisper so softly it’s barely audible.
Then, and only then, do I let the tears fall freely.
“This place just triggers a lot of memories for me,” I mumble into his chest. “I thought I could handle this, but it’s all so overwhelming.”
He strokes my back soothingly and kisses my forehead. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”
“But you left me.” I open my eyes slowly and crane my neck to look up at him. “You left without a word.” I ask, tears streaming down my cheeks. The tears are warmer than I expected. It’s been so long since I let myself cry that it feels foreign to me.
As he tilts his head, a sobering look crosses his face. With his brows drawn, he stares back into my eyes, then cups my neck in his hands.
“I could never leave you, Cleo.”
“But you did.”
“Not forever—I won’t do that to you. I promise.”
I thought he left for good. Everything is so jumbled in my head right now that I can hardly think straight.
“I’ve made my choice. I’m not going anywhere, angel.”
Exerting so much energy into this has drained me.
I continue to weep, then melt into his strong arms, savoring the warmth of his strong embrace. Something about him disarms me. As different as we are, it’s like he truly understands me. I find myself comfortable sharing more with him than anyone I’ve ever known.