Page 80 of Living with Death

“Darling, please.”

I groan. “Azrael, I need you to go.”

Pain covers his face, but I can’t feel for him right now. I can’t do it.

“You’re breaking my heart,” he breathes.

“And you’ve broken mine.”

He looks down. His eyes are dark, no light to be found. “I will go,” he whispers, his voice sorrowful. “But please know, to me, you are everything. Everything I ever wanted, everything I didn’t think I needed.” He lifts his chin, and the whisper of despair in his eyes causes me to look away. “I’ll never get over you.” He vanishes, and my knees hit the floor. There was before Azrael and after Azrael. I’m not sure which is worse now.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The morning dew still blankets the trees. My heart beats slowly as the preacher talks about Cook's life and all he did with it. I stand alongside his family, wondering if they realize how empty my life will be without him. I’m sure they feel the same about their own. Tears fall freely, and the lump in my throat burns like I’ve swallowed fire.

It's been two days since I told Azrael to leave––two days of thinking about our conversation, playing the whole thing repeatedly in my mind.

“I’m in love with you, Mabel.”

“I asked for you.”

What does that mean––asked for me?

But hearing him say he was in love with me. Those words touched something deep inside my bones. Like a lit fuse, they burned their way into my soul, catching it on fire. The feeling inside my chest terrifies me to the core. Is this what love feels like––this intimidating and thrilling all at once?

Or it did.

Now, all I feel is hurt and deception.

The air is frosty, the ground hard from last night’s low temperature. The sun hides behind gray clouds. Even the leaves have decided to refrain from moving. It’s as if Mother Nature herself is in mourning.

I study the casket they’ve chosen for Cook, the silver markings on the sides. The American flag drapes over the top with a beautiful arrangement of violet flowers.

A proud photo stands to the left. Cook was much younger, with the Purple Heart pinned on his military uniform. Because that’s one thing we never really discussed: how Cook saved my grandpop during the war. He dragged him across the bloody battlefield, and he was the reason they both came home safely.

But I know no other details.

They spoke about the war but seemed to skim over that part. Perhaps it was too painful a memory.

The preacher asks us to bow our heads in prayer, and I release a shaky breath. My eyes go to the ground, and I close them, letting the preacher's words seep into my soul, feeling Azrael’s eyes on me just as I have the last few days.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Azrael

She told me to leave her alone, but how can I? I’ve dipped in and out of the In-Between, lurking in shadows and watching her from afar. She’s back to her old self. Staying in and letting time slip past her. I know what I did was wrong. I know I don’t deserve her love now. Who could blame her if she never wanted anything to do with me again?

But I can’t forget her taste. I can’t erase the time we shared. It was a new experience for her but a moment of liberation for me.

Finally, I got to touch her, feel her fingers run over my skin, and her tongue lick against mine. I watched as her body bent for me and savored the small, sweet gasp she released when I entered her.

I’ve sat with her and watched her favorite movies and read some of the books she’s read. We’ve shared meals and long talks, sunrise, and sunset. When she ran into that water, my throat dried, and my blood ran cold. I felt panicked. Like I’d never see her again.

I held her in my arms and carried her to bed, thinking I could do this for eternity. I want nothing more than to have her as my wife.

How can I ever let any of that go?

The thought causes my heart to slice in two. The pain is so unbearable, like nothing I’ve felt before. I was in love once, but not like this.

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