But even though my voice practically pleads with him to look at me, to respond in some way, he continues to sit in silence, lost in his own mental scenery.

Choosing to take a wild leap of faith and hoping he’ll come along for the ride, I add, “Damen, I know how you feel, believe me I do. But I can’t help thinking there’s more to our story. An entire lifetime we’re both completely unaware of. I think it’s the clue, or maybe the key, as Lotus put it. The key that’ll lead us to the reason behind all of the obstacles we’ve been plagued with for all of these centuries, including the one we face now.”

But, like I said, it was a leap.

A leap that lands flat on its face when Damen rises from his seat, moves away from the table, and looks at me briefly. His gaze bleak, his voice cold, clipped, telling me he’s a million miles away when he says, “So I guess that’s it then. Your mind is made up. In which case I wish you all the best, and I look forward to your return.”

Chapter twelve

“You sure you don’t want to come in?”

I shake my head, meeting Jude’s gaze for a moment before shifting my focus to the barren winter stems that once bore the beautiful pink and purple peonies that lined the path from the drive to his door.

“So, you’re really going through with this?”

I nod. Realizing I should probably try to answer at least one of his questions verbally, but at the moment, I’m feeling far too choked up to speak. Unable to keep my mind from replaying that last scene with Damen—his final words, what he said about the possibility of my not returning, getting lost in the muck, unable to find my way back. The way he pulled me into his arms just after, stopping just short of storming out of the room to circle back to me, his body moving toward mine almost against his will. His embrace so warm, so all-encompassing, so loving, so… brief, it served as a complete and total contrast for his words, which were nothing shy of cold and perfunctory.

And even though I could sense his inner struggle, even though I recognized the signs of someone striving to detach from an outcome they’re convinced can only end in heartbreak, I couldn’t help but expect something more.

Even though I knew I had to go it alone, even though I insisted the journey was mine and mine alone, I still thought for sure he’d at least escort me to Summerland.

Pushing the thought from my mind, I resolve to focus on the present—on the space where Jude stands before me, the two of us flanking either side of his doorway.

“So where’s Damen, then?” He peers at the empty space to my right then eyeballs me carefully. “He’s going with you, right?”

I lower my gaze. All too aware of the horrible way my throat tightens as my eyes start to sting—the usual warnings that a flood of tears is in the making, but I stop it right there. I won’t let myself cry.

Not here.

Not in front of Jude.

Not for something I’ve elected to do.

Finally pulling myself together, I say, “It’s just me. This is something I’ve got to do alone. Lotus made that abundantly clear.” Lifting my shoulders as though it’s no big deal, and hoping he’ll buy it too.

He leans against the door, hands shoved deep into his front pockets. And from the look of his quirked mouth, and from the slant of his spliced brow, it’s clear he’s doing just the opposite, trying to determine what could be going on between Damen and me.

But that’s not why I’m here, so I’m quick to wave it away, my eyes meeting his as I say, “Listen, I just wanted to stop by and say thanks.

Thanks for being such a good friend to me throughout all of these… lifetimes.”

He frowns and looks past me, focusing on the street just beyond, emitting some kind of sarcastic sound, a cross between a grunt and a groan, before he says, “Ever, you might want to save your gratitude for someone who deserves it. None of my actions have proved to be the least bit helpful. In fact, it’s pretty much the opposite—I’ve made everything worse. Seems I’ve got a really bad habit of messing things up in a pretty big way.”

Since there’s no point denying it, I’m quick to agree, though I’m also quick to add, “Still, I’m not convinced that’s your fault. If anything, I’m pretty sure it’s your destiny.”

He tilts his head, scratches his stubble-lined chin. “My destiny is to mess up your life?” He shoots me a skeptical look. “I’m not really sure how I should feel about that.”

“Well, no, not just that. I’m sure there are much better things in store for you—things that have nothing to do with me. What I mean is, maybe that’s our combined destiny, you know? Like maybe you and I keep meeting throughout all of these centuries for a reason neither of us has ever thought of before…” I peer at him, trying to get a read on how that went over, but his head is leaning in a way that causes a tangle of dreadlocks to fall sideways, obscuring his face. “So, anyway…” I pause, starting to feel more than a little foolish for having come here. “I’m hoping the journey will reveal that and more.”

“So, this is it then?” He pushes his hair away, allowing his tropical gaze to light on mine.

“Looks like.” I try to smile, but just barely make it.

He nods, body jerking ever so slightly, like he’s holding something back—caught in a struggle between saying what he wants and what his better sense will allow. Finally settling on the latter when he says, “Then I wish you Godspeed.”