66. Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Six
Beau Drewitt
Don’t Shoot The Messenger
The knocker at the front door sounds. The sound is small, but it cuts through the silence of the house like a metronome. I lift my head from the counter and rush to the door.
“Oh, hey. Come in?” Imani steps inside, her face solemn and her lips pressed tight.
She carries something white and elongated in her hand.
She smells sour without El’s presence. Something is wrong.
Dust floats in the angled light spilling from the tall main window.
Every inch of the house stands still, but the air itself seems too tense.
Her footsteps echo softly against the hardwood.
She doesn’t look at me, rather stares at everything else that exists around me.
“Who’s here?” Kai yells from the kitchen where he’s building a LEGO set.
He decided to shut the store down earlier to come be with me since I couldn’t give less of a fuck about whether or not that place burned down or gave away at the foundation.
As long as I was waiting on Elowen’s answer, I would remain here. Right down the street.
She stops at the island and sets the folded paper down in front of me.
Her hand lingers on it for a moment before pulling away.
“She wanted you to have this,” she says.
Her voice is low, careful, as though speaking louder might shatter the moment.
I can tell she’s been crying. I stare at the paper.
It looks so harmless, but my chest tightens with a dread I can’t hide.
“What’s that?” Kai questions. Imani doesn’t answer him, nor does she attempt to explain.
She only steps back, her arms folding across her chest. I reach for it slowly as if the white paper envelope can grow teeth and jump out to bite me.
The paper is warm from her hand, the crease neat, the fold sharp.
My thumb brushes the edge, tracing the line she has pressed into it.
I open it carefully, the sound of the paper cracking open, filling the silent room like thunder.
“You don’t have to read it right now. I can leave first. That actually might be for the best.”
“Don’t you move a fucking muscle until I know what you’ve handed me,” I snap. Imani’s handwriting leaps out at me, steady but fading near the edges of the lines. It is hers. I can see how her mind worked in every curve of the letter.
The letter reads:
Dear Beau Drewitt,
I have loved every second of knowing you, even when I hated you and was scared of you and what you’re capable of. I wish things could be different but I can’t imagine a world where I live past Imani, Kai, David, Genie, or anyone else I’ve ever crossed paths with.
I’d have to hop around to different jobs.
I’d never be able to see the only father figure I’ve ever had again, or worse I’d have to watch him mourn me from afar.
I’m sorry. I really am. Nothing about this will ever be right.
If it means anything, I think you and I were right.
Just at the wrong time. I believe our souls are connected in a way that no one will ever be able to understand nor comprehend.
In a different reality, you’re not a vampire and I’m not terminally ill.
We spend every waking moment in your bookstore while you dust and I read books from daylight to dark.
We go to bed in your loft and laugh so hard every night before falling asleep that our sides still ache in the morning.
We wake up with no fear of endings, only the promise of one more day to love each other without shadows hanging over us.
We would travel to Norway to have a destination wedding under the Aurora Borealis.
My dream. Please, visit it with Imani. Let her live it for me.
I imagine you beside me in that life, reaching for my hand as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I imagine myself learning every corner of your face in the sunlight, not just in stolen glances in a bookstore.
I imagine a version of us that grows old together, where my hair turns silver and you tease me about the lines under my eyes.
And I would guarantee you still look like you never age, even as a human.
In that world, we fight about little things, then laugh so hard we forget why we were angry.
We keep building a life that feels endless.
That is the world I ache for, Beau, but it’s not the world I was given.
Beau Drewitt, you have shown me love in the most tender of ways.
Had I been given more time, you surely would’ve ruined me for anyone else.
I know you want to try to change this outcome, but we can’t.
I’m not afraid of dying, but I am terrified of leaving you behind.
That’s the cruelty of this ending, that I have to walk away from the only person who has ever truly seen me.
Imani will stay with me until I’m no longer here.
I find comfort in knowing she won’t let me go alone.
But you, Beau, you can’t sit in that chair and watch me slip away.
I’ll not let that be the last memory you have of me.
So when you think of me, don’t think of the hospital bed, or the weakness, or the days I couldn’t lift my hands.
Remember me when you change your jewelry, the way you frown at your rings and bracelets as though they have stories no one else can read.
Remember me when the leaves start to fall, when the world turns gold and the air sharpens, because that was always my favorite season.
Just remember that you are worth more than your weight in gold.
Your soul is made from the most delicate yet deliberate parts of what it means to be a good person.
To love until your lungs give out. I wish, instead of Imani writing this letter, I could use my own strength to wrap my arms around you and pull you in and never let go.
I’ll never get to touch you again, but believe me when I say that your presence will follow me hand in hand until I cross over whatever bridge waits for me.
Don’t miss me too badly. I’ll love you even after we no longer coexist.
If love is always unfinished, then ours will never end.
With love,
who you would call, mi tesoro, but to everyone else,
Elowen Briar, the girl gone too soon.
My eyes stay fixed on the last line until the letters blur.
Tears begin to well in the corners of them.
The words dig into me, tugging at every fiber of my being.
She had this written as a farewell. This is goodbye, a written break-up, another way for her to decline my offer of immortality.
She has chosen to slip away from me, not to fight for the impossible.
My hand trembles, shaking the paper within my grip.
I set the letter on the counter, but the words cling to my skin as though they had been etched into me.
She wants me to stay away. She has decided to not test fate.
The light through the window shifts, falling across the couch in long bars.
The house feels even more foreign, like I’ve stepped into a place I no longer belong.
I think of Norway. I think of the skies alive with color, of laughter echoing off my loft walls, of her short hair spilling across my pillow.
She has given me a vision of a world we will never have and expects me still not to fight for it? The thought tears through me.
I lift the letter again, planning what to do, pressing it to my chest as though it might fuse there and keep me standing.
Imani stands still, watching. She never leaves.
Her face is unreadable, though sorrow lingers in the corners of her eyes.
I can’t bear to look at her anymore. Kai stays cemented in place on his stool.
My world has shrunk to the shape of Elowen’s words, and they cut me open from the inside.
I try to speak, but no sound comes. My throat burns as my grief rises like high tide.
For the first time in centuries, I feel powerless in a way that crushes me.
I fold the letter once more, as if closing it might soften the pain.
Devastation doesn’t even cover it. I clench it in my hand until the edges bite into my skin. The sting grounds me for only a breath.
“Is she gone already?” I manage to speak.
“Not yet, but she will be soon.”
“So… you chose to come here before she passes because?”
“I told her I’d get it to you. I never told her when. She didn’t ask for me to keep you away…”
“Imani. Spit it out.” I can see the tears appear in her eyes. Kai watches us from his seat, but I can sense his anxiety from here.
“I…I want you to convince her. Or… just do it against her will.”
Kai butts in, “Woah. Woah. Woah. Wait, are we talking about Beau biting Elowen? No way. Beau, she made her decision. Don’t do this. Don’t go against her wishes. Imani, what are you thinking?”
“Do you think part of her wants me to try?” I stare into Imani’s soul.
“I think she regretted her answer as soon as I finished writing this letter. I don’t think she’ll agree until she realizes that she’s taking her last breath.”
Then I move, faster than ever before. Imani has a way of making me move, apparently.
I leave the counter in a blur, my body moving faster than thought.
The knocker rattles violently as I shove through the door, the letter still gripped in my fist. The street outside roars in my ears though it’s quiet.
Every sound carries the weight of her absence.
I won’t wait for Imani to call after me.
I won’t wait for Kai to call after me. I won’t pause to explain.
The only thing that matters is reaching Elowen before silence takes her forever.
She could be gone before I even get to tell her how much I love her one more time.
The letter pulses in my palm like a final heartbeat.
I can’t lose her. Not like this. I won’t.